Page 95 of Mistletoe and Mischief

Eddie, their son, who was home from college, came out of his bedroom. He’d spent most of the afternoon there, which was unusual. Eddie was tall and lanky, and he’d shot past Zach’s six feet by two or three inches. Eddie must be working on some project in his room, but when he heard the commotion in the hallway, he hurried out, earbuds plugged into his ears and his iPod playing. He yanked one plug free. “What did you say?”

“Your sister and Anson are here.”

“Cool.”

Zach already had the front door open. The decorative lights on the roof flashed on and off, their colors reflecting in the layer of fresh snow. Anson waved. He’d flown in from Washington, D.C., that afternoon.

Anson had entered the army at eighteen and currently worked in Military Intelligence at the Pentagon. Zach was proud of Anson’s achievements, although there’d been a time he was convinced the young man was a felon. Zach had done everything he could to keep his daughter away from Anson.

Fortunately, as Zach had discovered, he’d been wrong about his daughter’s boyfriend. Anson hadn’t been born with many advantages, but he’d risen above those difficulties, thanks in part, Zach believed, to his daughter. The two of them had met in high school, and they’d maintained their relationship all these years.

At this stage, Zach would welcome Anson as his son-in-law. Rosie cautioned him not to rush their daughter into an engagement, and she was right. Allison and Anson were still young and, as Rosie said, these things had to develop on their own. Parents shouldn’t involve themselves one way or the other.

Zach opened the screen door for his daughter and Anson, who set down his bag as he stepped inside and extended his hand. “Mr. Cox, thank you for having me.” His handshake was firm and solid.

“My pleasure.”

Rosie came forward and hugged Anson. “Merry Christmas!”

“You’re bedding down with me,” Eddie said, leading Anson down the hallway to his room. “You can have the top bunk.”

While Eddie showed Anson where he’d be sleeping, Allison followed her mother into the kitchen. “The traffic was a nightmare,” she said. “I can’t believe this many people are out on the roads on Christmas Eve.”

“Everyone has places to go,” Zach said, tagging behind his wife and daughter. “Hey, it smells good in here. What’s cooking?”

“Honestly, Zach, I’ve baked ham every Christmas Eve since we were married. You’d think after twenty-four years you’d remember that.”

“Right. Ham.” Now that he thought about it, they did seem to have ham every year. Rosie used the bone for a black bean soup she served on New Year’s Day, which was some Southern tradition she’d read about and adopted. It was supposed to guarantee good luck for the upcoming year. He doubted anyone believed that, but he liked black bean soup and so did Rosie.

By New Year’s, the kids would be heading back to school, and he and Rosie would be alone again. Zach had to admit he missed his children. Without them, the house seemed too quiet.

“What can I do?” Allison asked, reaching for an apron.

Zach smiled at his daughter’s eagerness to help. She was an intelligent, considerate young woman, and one day she’d make a fine attorney. In her first year of law school, Allison had gotten top grades. Zach was proud of her.

“Dinner won’t be ready for a while, but if you want to make the salad you can.”

“Sure.” She went over to the refrigerator, collecting the lettuce, tomatoes and other vegetables.

Normally, Zach would’ve sat down in front of the television at this point. He and Rosie both enjoyed football and had spent many a lazy Sunday afternoon watching the Seattle Seahawks. At first she hadn’t understood much about football, but she was a fast learner. Before long, she knew the players’ names and positions and understood the game. Spending Sunday afternoons with his wife wasfun.

Anson joined him at the breakfast bar, pulling out a stool and sitting down.

“So how does it feel to be back home?” Zach asked him. Anson wore jeans and an army sweatshirt, and his hair was shorn. Very different from his high school days when his hair straggled to his shoulders and he wore a long black raincoat. The difference between then and now was striking.

“I talked to my mother,” Anson said. He looked down as if to hide his reaction.

“You’re welcome to invite her for dinner, if you’d like,” Rosie offered.

Zach wasn’t keen to spend Christmas Eve with Cherry Butler, but he certainly wouldn’t refuse to entertain her.

“Thanks, Mrs. Cox, but Mom has other plans. She’s got a new...friend.” Anson’s tongue seemed to trip over the word. “She’s sure it’s love this time and wants to be with him.”

“You’ll have a chance to see her while you’re on leave,” Rosie said reassuringly.

“I probably will.”

Zach noticed that Anson didn’t sound all that confident.

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