Page 45 of Once Upon a Holidate
The idea had come to him a couple of days ago. He wanted to give his daughter something special for her baby. Joylyn and Chandler had a gift registry and he’d looked over that. There were a lot of great items, but rather than buy any of them, he was going to give the new parents money to use as they liked. But he also wanted to give them something personal. He’d always enjoyed woodworking and had made a few pieces of furniture. From what he’d learned online, a simple wooden bassinet wouldn’t be too difficult a project. If he got started this weekend, he should have it finished in plenty of time.
A little before eight, Joylyn wandered into the kitchen.
“Morning,” he said cheerfully. “Happy Thanksgiving.”
“Happy Thanksgiving,” she said, her expression neutral.
He tried to find comfort in the fact that she wasn’t glaring at him. Progress. Of course it was still early—there was plenty of time for her to get pissed at him for no reason.
He poured her juice. “Do you want bacon with your blueberry pancakes?”
“Yes, please.”
“How are you feeling?” he asked as she took a seat at the table.
“Awful, but regular awful. Nothing worse.”
“Counting the days?” he asked sympathetically.
She rubbed her belly. “Being pregnant is harder than I thought it would be.”
He knew her doctor’s appointment the previous day had gone well, so there were no physical concerns about the baby, but just looking at her belly and the way her back bowed when she walked made him uncomfortable. He couldn’t imagine having to live it.
He was just about to pour the batter on the griddle when her phone chimed. Joylyn glanced at the screen before smiling at him.
“It’s Chandler. Can we hold off on breakfast?”
“Sure,” he said, even though he was already talking to her retreating back. She ran down the hall and disappeared into her room.
He stood at the counter, not sure if he should make his own breakfast or wait for her to come back. He figured there was a fifty-fifty chance of him picking wrong regardless, but he erred on the side of waiting. It seemed more polite.
As Joylyn took her call, Garrick carried his coffee out to the living room and stared out the big front window. He supposed he should be happy that things weren’t worse between them, but he sure wished they were better. He missed his little girl.
Okay, Joylyn wasn’t a child anymore, but it wasn’t about her being small. It was about them being close. He loved her and wanted the best for her, but he also wanted them to be friends. He wanted to know what she was thinking and feeling. He wanted to be a part of her life—only they’d been apart for so long, he didn’t know how to get them connected again.
About fifteen minutes later, she came out of the bedroom. Her eyes were red and swollen and her face was wet with tears.
“I hate this,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “Being apart from him like this. He’s so far away. I miss him and I can’t do this without him.”
He instinctively reached for her. She jerked free of his touch.
“You can’t make this better,” she screamed. “You can’t. Just leave me alone. I don’t want to see you or talk to you. I don’t want to have Thanksgiving with you. Leave me alone. Just leave me alone!”
She returned to her bedroom and slammed her door shut. Even from the living room he could hear the sound of her sobs. He stood where he was and had absolutely no idea what to do next. Finally he walked into the kitchen and dumped the batter into the trash before changing into sweatpants and a T-shirt and heading out for a run.
***
Wynn looked around the kitchen, double-checking that she had everything handled. The turkey was in the oven and threepies were cooling on a rack. She had the casserole dish with dressing ready to go in the oven when the turkey came out. She and Hunter had already watched the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade, and now her son was curled up in the family room, watching the football game and reading comic books.
She crossed to the dining room to make sure that was ready to go, as well. She’d set the table earlier that morning, using her good china and the seasonal table linens. Instead of flowers as a centerpiece, she had small gourds running down the center of the table, along with red and orange leaves, a few pinecones and several beautiful seashells she added for texture. The largest shell she placed in the center was red, but the rest were cream and brown and pink, blending with the autumn colors of the linens.
The side table was set up to serve as the buffet. Wynn had all her serving pieces out to make sure there was room for everything. Renee and Jasper were bringing a sweet potato casserole and Drew, Silver and their daughter Autumn had offered to provide green beans and fresh rolls that Silver and Autumn were making fresh this morning. Garrick, of course, had his Waldorf salad.
She liked the idea of a full table at the holidays. Friends that were her family. It gave her a sense of belonging and showed Hunter the importance of community.
She heard her front door open.
“It’s me,” Garrick called.
