Page 21 of Never Sleigh Never
Moisture burns my eyes. Now, they’re only memories. There’ll never be a new picture. Not after that late summer day when meningococcal meningitis took her away from us. She fought hard, though. Just like everything she did, she gave two hundred percent.
“Daddy!”
I flinch and catch the picture frame before it crashes to the floor. Quickly, I shove it in the nightstand drawer and slam it closed.
“Yeah.” I rub away the moisture in my eyes.
Josie hovers in the doorway, pink tablet clutched to her chest. “Grandma says I can come over and watch movies.” She turns her tablet around, and my mom’s face fills the screen.
“Yeah, okay.” A night to myself will give me time alone to wallow in self-pity. “Pack a bag and I’ll drop you off.”
Josie turns the tablet around. “Yay! I’ll be over soon, Grandma.”
“Okay sweetheart. See you soon.” My mom’s voice sounds through the speakers.
She runs over to me, tosses her tablet on my bed, and wraps her arms around me. “Thank you.”
“Of course, Peanut.”
Josie pushes off me and scampers down the hallway. With my elbows on my knees, I scrub my palms over my face, trying to stitch my thoughts together. A big reason we moved to Mount Holly was so my parents could help me raise Josie. I tried to do it on my own for three years. Mostly because I was stubborn and didn’t want the help or to burden anyone else. I thought I had something to prove. That I could do this on my own. Needing help doesn’t make me a terrible father. In fact, asking for help was the best thing for Josie. She was grieving just as much as I was, so the support was not only for me, but for her as well. Plus, Brooke always dreamed of creating a big Christmas carnival. It wasn’t my thing, but she loved it. And I loved her. It never fully developed because she got sick. So I want to do it for her. To make her dream come true.
I thought I was doing better at letting go of Brooke. Even my therapist said I was making great strides. I don’t have to forget her, but I need to move on. I did that for a while, mostly because I had hockey to occupy my time. But retiring and moving back to Mount Holly to put this carnival together is opening old wounds. I just need a night. I’ll be back to my normal self tomorrow.
A few minutes later, Josie barrels into my bedroom with a backpack slung over her shoulder. “I’m ready!”
“I think you’re the fastest packer I know.”
She latches onto my hand and tugs. “Hurry. I want to watch as many movies as I can before bedtime.”
“Alright. I’m coming.”
After dropping Josie off at my mom and John’s, I drive back toward my house. But two blocks down the road, I think better of it and turn around in the next driveway to head in the opposite direction toward the Crooked Reindeer. Maybe it’s best I’m around other people for a bit. It has to be better than sitting alone in misery.
Inside, the bar’s relatively quiet. A few regulars all wave and say hello to me. At the far end of the bar, I claim a seat on an empty stool, hoping to have a little time to myself. Simon gives me a chin nod as he finishes with a customer.
A few seconds later, he greets me. “Hey, man. Want a spiked eggnog or Tom and Jerry?”
I grimace at my options.
He laughs. “Too festive for you? How about a beer?”
I eye the taps but know they won’t cut it. “Give me a scotch on the rocks.” Simon’s brows raise. “Make it a double.”
“Well, that’s not a casual drink for six o’clock at night.”
“It’s been a day. And it’s still not over.”
Simon plants his hands on the bar and leans in. “Anything you want to talk about?”
“Not especially.”
“Alright. Well just know I’m here if you need anything.”
“Just make sure my glass isn’t empty.”
“Got it.” He raps his knuckles against the bar as he pushes off and pours my drink. Once he’s finished, he slides the lowball of scotch in front of me.
The first sip burns clean—like it might cauterize whatever’s fraying inside. This carnival was a dumb idea. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. If I didn’t have a crew of guys to help me get everything set up, I’d still be sitting in an empty field. This was Brooke’s passion. Not mine. God, I miss her. Her smile. The way she wouldn’t let me get away with anything. I wish I could have done something. I wish I had tried harder to convince her to go to the doctor sooner. Maybe she’d still be here. I just never expected it to happen so fast. In the blink of an eye, she was gone.
