Page 88 of The Christmas Eve Delivery

I wasn’t going to say perfect. I was thinking more along the lines of the stuff of horror films. But he was smiling, and I could see his mind working as his eyes darted around.

“Stay here. I’ll be right back.” He got out of the car and took a few steps forward.

He put his hands on his hips and simply looked out at everything. He looked like a man overseeing his kingdom. At that moment, I somehow understood what this project meant to him.

The baby began fussing. I climbed out of the passenger seat and into the back and began making shushing noises. That didn’t stop him from waking up.

I carefully removed him from the buckles and held him so that I could breastfeed. As I looked down at the baby and then out at Miles, suddenly, I knew what his name was.

He wasn’t Chris, and he definitely wasn’t Noel.

He was Nick. Nicholas, the bringer of presents. Nick Carlisle. That was his name. When he finished feeding, I changed him and secured him back in the car seat, all before Miles returned to us.

“I’m going to have to go back to the city,” Miles announced.

“For how long?”

“I have to?—”

“No,” I interrupted him. “For how long? You can go, but I have to know exactly when you’re coming back.”

“I’m coming back to you, Lydia.”

“You’ve said that before, Miles. I can’t do that again. I have to know.”

“I understand, darling. I won’t leave until after the new year. I’ll be gone for four days.”

“Four days,” I repeated.

“I’ll call you every day,” he said.

“You promise?” I asked.

“Yes, Lydia, I promise, and I know that you need something more than empty promises to know that you can trust me.”

I gave Miles a sharp smile. “I do, but I’m going to trust you to come back, okay?”

“I will not break that trust. I promise,” he said.

I felt tears stinging my eyes. I didn’t expect this to be this hard. I didn’t want him to go. I didn’t want him to go, even if it was only for four days. I swallowed around a lump in my throat.

“You have to come back, Miles, because I love you.”

“I love you,” he said. His voice was so low, I almost didn’t hear him. “And I love the boy.”

“Nicholas,” I said. “His name is Nicholas, Nick.”

And then I lost it. I couldn’t stop crying.

Miles climbed out, walked around, and pulled me out of my seat and into his arms. It was the first time in a very long time that he had held me like this.

“Nicholas.” He smiled as he said the name. “That’s a wonderful name. I thought you were going for something with a Christmas theme.”

“Old Saint Nick,” I said. “Santa Claus himself. After all, you said he was a present.”

“Santa Claus brings presents to all the good little boys and girls. And you’ve been a very good girl this year, haven’t you?”

“I tried,” I admitted.

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