Page 61 of Single Dad's Christmas Cookie

“Datebook!” I yelled out when I remembered I had written her information into a small datebook where I sometimes took notes.

I grabbed the leather-bound volume and flipped through the pages until I found the date when I had hired Nova. Name, Social Security number, phone, address, everything I needed to keep legal records for paying her. I knew many people who would have paid her under the table for her few weeks of work. It only took one audit for a man to lose a fortune. I didn’t like to take risks like that.

And that caution now paid off. I had Nova’s address.

“Got it! Let’s go!”

27

NOVA

Iabsolutely resented the fact that my body was used to waking up early so that I could be on time at whatever job I had. Today was not the day to be awake and functional. I did not want to be awake. Maybe if I pretended I was still asleep, I would return to dreamland. Not that my dreams were particularly good, but they were better than reality.

The front of my face throbbed in pain from having spent the entire night crying. The crust in the corner of my eyes was thick. I had to peel my eyelids open.

“No!” I groaned loudly and grabbed my pillow and rolled over. I wanted to be asleep. I wanted to sleep through today and tomorrow. I didn’t want to have to face the decisions that I had to make, and I certainly didn’t want to have to be awake to endure being alone on Christmas.

My eyes felt gritty. I knew if I didn’t get up and wash my face, I was risking something like conjunctivitis. Pink eye was exactly the Christmas present I did not want to get.

With another loud groan, I managed to sit up. My apartment was cold and it still smelled funny from the day before. If I had a small apartment within the school, on campus like they promised, would I still be cold? Would the residual heat from the school building have kept everything much warmer, the way it had at Bryan’s large house?

I threw my sheets back and slid my feet directly into a pair of fluffy slippers. The fake fur lining was cold. It was a miserable feeling. They were supposed to be warm and cozy and right now, they just felt cold and hairy.

I shuffled off to the bathroom to wash my face. Hot water ran over a washcloth. Once it was dripping wet, I wrung it out and I pressed and held it to my eyes for a few minutes. The compress felt good and helped to relieve the pressure in my sinuses. This was not starting off to be a promising Christmas Day. If I managed to give myself a sinus infection or pink eye, I was going to be pissed off. It was bad enough that I was miserable. But miserable, sick, and mad without any recourse were a trifecta of ick that I did not want. I examined my eyes in the mirror. They didn’t look particularly pink. They were a bit swollen and I had massive bags under my eyes. There was red around the edges that looked like I had been crying for hours on end, more than anything else, which was exactly how I had spent half of my night. So maybe I wasn’t getting sick. I was still miserable.

My hair was a complete mess. Let it get matted. I didn’t feel like bothering fighting the knots that formed in my sleep. Merry Christmas to me, I decided to take the day off and not brush my hair.

I plodded back to my bedroom and flopped on the bed. Sleep did not take over as I so deeply wished. Instead, my brain started to overthink everything. Maybe I needed to shift pillows? Was itdark enough in my room to sleep? Would I be able to go back to sleep if I crawled under the covers? What would I make myself for breakfast? I stared at the ceiling as I mentally went through the contents of my refrigerator. While I had been taking care of Bryan and Amelia’s culinary needs, I had been neglecting my own. I had some cheese and I might have some eggs.

I was fairly certain I saw an egg carton the night before when I was looking for something to make for dinner. If nothing else, I would have a bowl of Christmas ramen. Not that Christmas ramen was a thing, but since today was Christmas, anything and everything I did today would be prefaced with Christmas—Christmas shower, Christmas nap, Christmas Chinese takeout, Christmas movie—it was simply how my mind worked.

What I needed was a Christmas fall-back-to-sleep, but it seemed like I wasn’t even going to get that.

What I really wanted was a Christmas rom com moment where Bryan showed up on my doorstep with a message scrawled out on poster board telling me how absolutely perfect I am in his eyes. I wanted to know that he and Amelia would be willing to go door to door to find me. I wanted a Hollywood perfect romance and not the ‘I’ve got a crush on my boss’ reality that shouldn’t be.

My phone started to buzz.

I picked it up without even looking at the caller ID. “Whoever this is, it is entirely too early to be calling me on Christmas morning,” I groaned into the phone.

“Merry Christmas!” Veronica’s cheerful voice sounded through the speaker phone. “That’s exactly why I’m calling. It’s early and it’s Christmas. And I wanted to be the first person to wish you a Merry Christmas.” She sounded too exuberant.

I sat up. “I take it Santa was good to you this morning.”

“Not Santa, silly.” She laughed.

“Okay, not Santa. Then somebody was good to you this morning.” I was not in the mood to play games right now.

“You could say that again,” she practically purred.

Gross. “I do not want to hear the details of your relationship right now, trust me.”

“Nova,” Veronica started. “You really do. Put me on video.”

“I don’t want to be seen this morning,” I grumbled.

“You may not want to be seen,” she said, “but I have something to show you.”

“Okay, hold on.” I flopped over onto my stomach, resting on my elbows, running my thumbs over the front of the phone until I got the video feature turned on.

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