Page 19 of Mistletoe Mistake
His jaw clenches and it takes him a beat too long to answer.
“There’s not many. I lost touch with most people from high school when I moved to Washington for college. After I lost Dad, I was written off by pretty much everyone there when they got tired of putting up with my shit. After I lost my job, I decided to cut my losses and move back home.” He cuts his eyes to me and I detest the unhappiness I see in them. “I wish I could say I came back for more honorable reasons, but I really just wanted somewhere to crash while I drank my life away.” He white-knuckles the steering wheel. “That was really my only plan back then.”
“What changed?”
“What changed? Someone told me to take my head out of my ass and get my shit together. It seemed like good advice, so I gave it a go.”
“Well, she sounds delightfully astute.” I try to keep my tone playful but I can’t deny it feels good to know our conversation had an impact on him. I remember those days vividly, the worry Brandon felt for his best friend and the strain it was putting him under. I honestly can’t even fathom what Nick was going through. If we lost my dad, I… I can’t even think about what I would do.
“Seriously, I’m glad I helped, but I’m sure there was more to it than that.”
“Yeah...” He trails off, swallowing hard and then clearing his throat. “My mom pulled me up on my shit. I got in at some ungodly hour one morning and she was waiting up for me. Her face was all red, like it had been scrubbed raw and her eyes were glassy, but she wasn’t crying.” His voice is rough and forced and I know this is hard for him. I want to offer him support so I do the only thing I can think of and place a hand on his knee, squeezing lightly.
His eyes drift to my hand resting there, but he says nothing about it, he simply continues his story.
“She told me she couldn’t watch me destroy myself, that she loved me too much to do it and I had two choices. Go and talk to someone about losing Dad and show her I was making a real effort to get my life together. Or get out.” His mouth tips in a half-smile. “I had never seen my mother like that before and it scared the shit out of me. I had just lost Dad and I couldn’t risk losing her too. So I started seeing a psychologist once a week and cut back on the drinking. I got a job in construction, doing pretty much what I was doing back in Washington. But I needed a distraction when I wasn’t working, so I started building stuff. Small things at first, but then I built a dining table for Mom and a friend of hers loved it and asked me to build her a TV unit.”
“And that’s how your business started?”
“Pretty much. One job led to another, and suddenly I had enough business to leave the construction job. Cohen helps me out with the business side of things, and Brandon and Amy are always recommending me to people. So, yeah, my circle is small, but it’s strong and I’m grateful for each of them.”
“I’m really happy for you, Nick. You deserve to be happy. I hope you know how proud your dad would be. And. God, starting your own business. I don’t think I could ever do that, I’m not brave enough.”
“I think you’re plenty brave.” He clears his throat again but keeps his eyes straight ahead. “But it seemed right. I think I was always a bit envious of your family growing up, and the family business was a part of that. Your parents worked just as hard as mine, but it felt more grounded in family, you know? Because it was all going to be yours one day, if you wanted it. I like the idea of that. Building something that my kids can have.”
I break out in a small sweat at the idea of Nick with kids, but force myself to ignore the image.
Images.
So many images.
Nick holding a sleeping baby.
Nick tucking a sleepy toddler into bed.
Nick holding a tiny hand in his own large one.
Removing my hand from Nick’s knee, I rub both hands across my eyes, trying to shake the pictures loose.
“It’s definitely different when the business is yours. Brandon and I practically lived there growing up. Mom technically worked part-time after we were born, but she and Dad built the company up together, so it’s in her blood just as much as his. It was kind of instilled in us that the business was a part of our family, and Brandon and I grew to love it as much as Mom and Dad did.”
“Brandon was always so sure that he wanted to work there, and I guess you were too?” He cuts his eyes to me, looking for confirmation.
“Yeah, it seemed inevitable. We were lucky enough to spend time in each department and get a feel for where we fit,” I muse. “God, we really were so lucky.”
“You know, I always wondered… the name. Where didAvondalecome from?”
“Oh, that’s where my parents are from. It’s a tiny town in Minnesota. They moved to New York after college, but they missed home, so when they set up the business and decided to focus on greeting cards,Greetings from Avondalejust made sense. It was their way of honoring their family, I guess.”
“Your parents are good people.”
“Yeah, they are. So are yours.” I shrug. “They’re just diff—what? What’s that look?”
He turns to me and straight away I think of the expression Tahlia has when she’s up to no good.
“We’re here.”
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