Page 99 of For Fox Sake

Epilogue

Jake

The plow bounces over a snow drift and Ari whoops in the seat next to me, lifting her arms in the air like we’re riding a roller coaster. “Go faster!”

I chuckle. “Pretty sure this thing tops out at thirty-five.”

Not to mention the fact that it’s still pitch-black outside and the twinkle lights are muted with snow.

Ari woke up at five this morning.

When we were kids, it was the same every Christmas. Aria woke me at the crack of dawn, always too excited about all the presents under the tree to sleep in past six.

Ryan is still sleeping, so I bundled up Ari and took her out to plow away some of the snow that fell over the camp last night.

I’m trying to keep her distracted until it’s late enough to meet up with the rest of our family.

“I think we’re about done.” At least, the main road that winds through the camp has been taken care of.

I spin the wheel, turning the plow around. “What do you say we head back and have some hot cocoa?” And I can brew up some coffee. A jolt or twelve of caffeine is exactly what I need.

“Do we have marshmallows and whipped cream?”

I press a hand to my chest, feigning offense. “Do I look like a cocoa amateur?”

She laughs.

I come to a stop in front of our cabin, the same one Finley always sets aside for us, the one we stayed in a year and a half ago during Ryan and Ari’s first visit to Camp Aria.

Ari scoots across the bench seat to get out on my side, and I lift her out and down to the slick snow. “Be careful.”

“I will.” She scampers up the walkway to the cabin, not careful in the slightest.

I sigh and follow her inside, hanging our coats and scarves up on the rack in the entryway, exposing our matching Christmas pajamas. Finley bought coordinating sets for the entire family, all red flannel and green stripes. The woman is a menace. But Ari does look pretty adorable and she absolutely loved the fact that the whole family matches.

Ari hops up on the stool at the kitchen island. “Can we go to the big house after cocoa?”

I glance over at the clock. It’s six. “Maybe? I’m sure by the time your mom wakes up and gets ready it will be time to go. How does that sound?”

“Good.”

Oliver and Piper are more than likely up and about. Their son, Benjamin, is only ten months old and doesn’t sleep past seven. I move around the kitchen, pushing the button on the coffee machine and grabbing the milk from the fridge for the cocoa.

Finley is probably awake too. She was just as excited about Christmas as Ari. It’s not often she manages to gather the whole family in the same spot at the same time, and the mountain of presents under the tree is mostly a result of her efforts.

Everyone is eager to see Ari’s reaction to the gift I got her.

Anticipation twists in my stomach. I really hope she likes it.

We drove in from Binghampton yesterday morning. We’ve been renting a house there for almost a year now. Binghampton sits in between Whitby and Ithaca, an hour away in either direction. Ryan started classes at Ithaca last spring. She’s also been helping Finley part-time with a variety of tasks in her downtime, some of which she can do from home—like payroll and accounting. Most of our weekends are spent at the camp anyway, much to Ari’s delight.

Yesterday after we arrived, we rode on snowmobile, went ice skating, and built snowmen, and then after dinner, we played Uno and charades with everyone.

The milk steams, and I remove it from the heat, pouring it into the mug. I stir in the chocolate and marshmallows and add a dollop of whipped cream on top before setting it in front of Ari.

“Thank you.” She picks up the spoon and shovels a giant bite of whipped cream into her mouth. “Daddy, do you think Santa knew to bring my presents here?”

My heart tumbles, the way it always does when she uses the moniker.

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