Page 56 of 2204 Hunter Lane
She threw a hand over her mouth, giggling, when she spotted the scarf I’d bought her at Rivertown Bay, folded into a square.
“This is hilarious,” she let out, petting the soft material.
I caught myself smiling at her smile, clearing my throat before I got too excited. “There’s more um, I kind of shoved your other gift inside.”
“Oh?”
Her tiny fingers worked their way around the stitching of the scarf until they latched onto my embarrassing little I <3 Nebraska keychain.
At first she looked confused, holding up the tiny metal trinket but her grin stretched across her face when I explained.
“I saw the I <3 NYC keychain when I carried your luggage up to the cabin an’ I thought, well, New York ain’t your home no more… maybe it’s time for a replacement.”
Without a word of warning, Bambi leapt into my lap and wrapped her arms around my neck, squeezing tightly.
I was completely frozen, holding my hands out like they were immobilized and fucking broken. But when the warmth of her frame settled into me, I let my hands touch the wool fabric of her sweater.
The familiar scent of lavender and honey emanated off her neck as I rested my head on her shoulder, holding her until she decided to let go.
When her gaze met mine, a lustrous sheen had lightened her pupils, making the brown in her eyes appear almost golden.
“I’m going to change the keychain as soon as I get home,” she smiled, bright like a damn star.
I preserved it in my brain for as long as I could, realizing how much of an idiot I was for thinking this girl was like my ex, chalking her up to be a vicious viper when she had no malicious bone in her body.
Bambi was exactly that… a Bambi. A deer in the headlights who trusted the road so much she didn’t think she’d get hit. She was a naïve, curious little thing who saw the world in colour, not black and white. A pure soul tainted by hardships of the past. And I wasn’t proud to be one of them.
But if I could capture this moment, her sitting in my lap, smiling at me like the world was made of fireworks, then I would. I’d bottle it up forever cause no woman had ever looked at me the way Bambi had.
“Merry Christmas, Hunter.”
I paused for a second, taking all of her in; the closeness of her body, the warmth of her proximity and I beamed. I beamed like a goddamn idiot.
“Merry Christmas, Bambi.”
And a merry fuckin’ Christmas it turned out to be.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Marley
The rest of the day was a complete and total blur.
The Lanes had a Christmas family tradition called “Down it for Derry” which was essentially a drinking game named after Hunter’s great grandfather. Was there a point? Nope. I guess the man just loved to drink so when he passed away, they named a card game after him.
The objective of the game was to get drunk, naturally, so if you picked up any card under a ten, you took one shot and if you picked a face card, two shots.
Like I said, no significance, no purpose, only obliteration.
And that is exactly what happened until right around nine p.m.
“Holy dicks, it’s bleedin’ snow out there.” Glen said, opening up a window shutter. “Still got that spare room, Dex?”
The rest of us flocked to the window, staring out at the icy tundra that swallowed our cars.
“Shit, that’s gon’ be a bitch to clean off in the mornin’.” Betty gaped, running stressed fingers through her hair.
Payton began swatting us away from the window, shooing us to the kitchen. “Alright, alright, we got two spare bedrooms upstairs. Ain’t nobody drivin’ in this.”
