Page 130 of Holiday Romance
“That doesn’t make it better.”
“I’m just realizing I was an idiot.” I wipe a tear and then two away, blinking to make sure no more will follow. “I suppose asking you to turn the car around would be too much?”
“We’d need some serious sobbing for me to do that.” But he glances at me as though afraid I’m about to do just that.
“I think I’m in love with your brother,” I tell him. “And I think I need to fix what happened this morning.”
“Good for him and yes, you do, but I’ve got an airport pint with my name on it and I’m not turning this car around.”
“I’m not above bribing you.”
He laughs. “And I’m not above being bribed.”
“I’m just saying, I’ve done it before. I’m very good at it.”
“I’m dropping you home,” he says. “And then I’m getting out of here. Just give yourselves both a break, see your nephew, see your family and then give him a call. He’ll know you’ll need the space.”
“Or—”
“Not happening,” he says, and I slump back in my seat.
He’s right though, I know he is. “You’re pretty good at relationship chats,” I say. “For a boy, anyway.”
“Yeah, well. It’s always easier when it’s about other people, isn’t it?” He tilts his head then, peering out the windshield at the thick gray clouds with an almost wistful expression.
“What do you know?” he mumbles. “And only a day late.”
I follow his gaze, though it takes me a moment to see what he’s talking about. The droplets on the window I first think are rain and then are most definitely not.
“It’s snowing,” I say, unable to hide my surprise.
“It will probably melt immediately,” Christian says, echoing Andrew.
But it doesn’t. It sticks.
It sticks and it keeps falling and by the time we get to Dublin, it’s really coming down.
We crawl to a halt as we reach the city center, mainly because the flurry of snow has sent everyone haywire. It feels like everyone in Dublin is outside, kids and adults playing or simply standing about with big, delighted grins on their faces as the city gets its white Christmas. I start to worry I’m going to make Christian late, but he just shrugs me off.
I direct him back to my street and he drops me off, waiting for me to dump his mother’s leftovers in the hall before driving off with a wave. As he does, the door two houses down opens and my sister appears, holding a baby carrier in her hands. She smiles as soon as she sees me, walking down the street, before doing a double glance as Christian passes.
“Who’s that tall glass of water?”
“Andrew’s younger brother.”
“You little—”
“Don’t be gross,” I complain, already knowing what she’s going to say.
“How is that gross? I’m impressed.”
“Shut up. Should you be on your feet right now?”
“Yes,Mother.If I can birth a human, I can walk the two doors down to the neighbor to show it off.” She holds up the baby carrier and I peek inside.
My nephew is fast asleep, almost completely covered up by a variety of brightly colored blankets.
“How did Christmas in the countryside go?” she asks while I poke where I think his itty-bitty feet are.
