Page 58 of Mr. Frosty Pants
“Hanging on by your fingernails.” Becca groaned. He could hear her pacing again. “He could help you. His family—”
“Stop. No. There’s no way in hell I’d take money from Jonathan Asshole Stevens. Besides, his folks have always hated me, so there’s no way they’d offer.”
Joel heard Andie’s brassy voice call out to Becca that it was time for them to leave if they were going to make the movie. “Got the day off?”
“Andie’s taking me to see some art flick she says I’ll love.”
“You’ll hate it.”
“Probably.” She whispered, “I’d be out of this relationship in a heartbeat if I didn’t want to ruin her holidays.”
“So you’ve said.”
She clucked her tongue at him. “If I had something like you have with Casey, I’d never let it go.”
“Better go racing after Andie, then. We’re a holiday fling, too.”
“Wow. That’s sad, babe. And utter bullshit.” Becca growled when Andie yelled again. “Shit. Bye, Joely. I love you.” She hung up, and Joel walked to the other side of the privacy screen to watch the cars zoom by.
He wished he saw a future where he and Casey could be together. But all he could imagine was Casey kissing him goodbye sweetly and his own heart breaking as he watched Casey walk away.
That’s what always happened. People died, or they left. The story of Joel Vreeland’s life.
Chapter Seventeen
“Ho, ho, ho!Merry Christmas!” Casey stepped into Joel’s place with a giant, green, nylon shopping bag tossed over one shoulder. He’d put on a red button-up shirt his mother had gotten him the prior year and which he’d never worn. He figured he looked enough like Santa to make a joke of it.
Feet bare, Joel wore a white V-neck T-shirt and a pair of black jeans, and he had a few scratches on his face and neck that hadn’t been there when Casey had left that morning.
Casey dropped the food to the floor, and Bruno scampered to investigate the bag. “What happened?” he asked, gently thumbing the scratch on Joel’s cheek. “How’d you get hurt?”
“It’s fine. I survived Thunder Trees.” Joel reached up to pull Casey’s thumb away. But, to Casey’s thrilled joy, he didn’t let go of his hand, twining their fingers together instead.
“Explain.”
“Two trees enter. One man leaves.”
Casey shook his head. “I still don’t get it.”
Joel laughed. “It’s dumb. I was distracted at work and tripped over a tree. It fell on me and brought another down with it. It’s just a scrape. I’m fine.”
“Did you put hydrogen peroxide or alcohol on it?”
“Yes, Mom.”
Casey leaned forward and gently kissed the mark. “That should make it better.”
Joel swallowed hard, and he darted his gaze away. “It did. Thanks.” He bent to pick up the grocery bag. “Let’s put this in the kitchen before Bruno decides to move from snuffling to chowing down.”
Casey saw the new Christmas tree in the corner of the living room, already decorated with colored lights. His heart rose giddily. The spangles of color reflected in the mirror over the entry and on every shiny surface around. Next to the tree sat a box markedORNAMENTSand some new boxes of bulbs that Casey recognized as being from Vreeland’s Christmas stock.
“I put the lights on earlier,” Joel said over his shoulder. “It’s the least fun part, and it got my mind off… Well, I had some time to kill.”
“It’s great. I love colored lights.” In that moment, he decided he’d only use colored lights on his own tree from then on.
As Joel unpacked the groceries on the kitchen counter, his eyes grew wider and wider.
“It’s not a big deal,” Casey hurried to explain. “Chips and salsa for a snack. And popcorn, of course, for stringing on the tree if we want. Or we can just eat it. But then I saw those doughnuts, and I figured if I was going to stay the night again—which you pretty much said I was?”
