Page 6 of Under the Mistletoe

“Oh, hush. You know I’m just excited for you.”

“I’m excited, too. I would be even more excited if all that furniture in that truck would miraculously move itself into the house.”

“Only one way that’s going to happen.” Dad lowered Ava to the ground. “Let’s get to it.”

I nodded, then followed him over to the truck. He slid open the back hatch, and when I saw all the boxes and furniture, I let out a groan. “I wish Davis was here.”

“You know he’d be here if he could.”

“I know.”

My dear brother had acquired my parents’ giftedness with computers and technology, and he’d been offered an unbelievable opportunity to work with the Navy and the nuclear program. He loved what he was doing, but he couldn’t come home very often. “I just hope we’ll get to see him over the holidays.”

“He’s working on it.”

Dad handed me the first box, and the rest of the afternoon became a blur of unloading. Dad took charge of the ‘heavy lifting’ while Mom and I brought in the boxes. Ava discovered the joy of bubble wrap, and by the time we unloaded the truck, she was wearing most of it like a suit of armor, popping her way through the house.

“Ava, be careful,” I warned.

“Oh, she’s fine.” Mom opened another box and started pulling out all the kitchen stuff she’d bought. “I got you a few things.”

“I see that.”

“It’s nothing much.” She held up some new Tupperware and a fancy charcuterie board. “Just a few things I thought you might’ve forgotten.”

“When am I ever going to use a charcuterie board?”

She winked at Ava. “You’ll need it once you start hosting.”

“What’s ho-sing?” Ava asked, sounding confused.

“Something you and Mommy aren’t going to be doing any time soon,” I muttered. “I think we’ll stick to mac and cheese for now.”

“I want some mac and cheese.”

“I’ll fix some in a bit. For now, why don’t you go to your room and take your toys out of the boxes.”

“Ah, man.”

“Go on and do what your momma said,” Mom pushed. “I’ll be in there in a few minutes to help.”

Ava did as she was asked and went to her room to unbox her things while Mom and I continued unpacking the dishes. The sound of clattering plates almost drowned out the muffled conversation coming from the front yard. I recognized Dad’s deep rumble, but it was the other voice that stopped me cold.It was low, smooth, and unmistakably familiar. I froze, and a shiver slipped up my spine.

I’d spent years training myself not to think about that voice, and now, it was at my front door.

I knew I would eventually see him.

I just wasn’t expecting it to be so soon.

“Hey, Beck!” Dad shouted, jolting me from my spiraling thoughts. “We’re bringing in the sofa.”

The words had barely left his mouth when they appeared. Dad was carrying one end of my worn-out sofa, and Torch was carrying the other. The sight of him brought a lump to my throat.

Torch adjusted his grip, eyes locking on mine for the briefest second. “Hey, Torch.”

He gave me a nod—just a nod, like I hadn’t spent my entire adolescence mooning over him and he hadn’t broken my heart when he completely blew me off.

“Thanks for helping.” It came out strangled and barely audible, so I forced myself to say, “I really appreciate it.”

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