Page 25 of Tee the Season
“UNCLE RORY!”
Then she’s there, barreling into view with a gap-toothed grin, dark curls in a messy ponytail, and pajamas with cartoon cats reading books. I can’t help but smile.
“Want to help with a special project?”
I still at the gentleness in his voice. I’ve seen him manage Hays, advise, cajole, and definitely give a hard time to his best friend, but seeing him so soft and patient and present with his niece? It hits differently. I turn away, adjusting lights that don’t need adjusting.
“Yes! Are you at a bookstore? Is that the lady from the pictures?”
I freeze. The lights slip from my suddenly numb fingers.
“Pictures?” he stammers, momentarily confused.
“Yeah, you know, the ones where you were dressed up all fancy and—”
“Oh, the wedding. Um…yeah, this is that lady.”
He showed his family pictures of me? Of us? I drop to grab the strand of lights, glad for the excuse to look away.
Don’t, I chastise myself.Don’t let this mean what I think it means.
My stomach drops as I loop the lights back over the hook.
Rory clears his throat. “But, about the special project, I’m going to text you a link, Soph. Click on it and tell me what you see.”
“Okay!” Sophie’s face disappears as she presumably shifts to look at the device.
He types quickly on his phone. A moment later, “Got it! Oh wow, Uncle Rory, I can see the special chair and the decorations and all the books! It’s so pretty with all the lights!”
I turn to look at the reading corner, seeing it from the little girl’s perspective thousands of miles away.
“Perfect. Keep that open, and we’ll stay on FaceTime so you can tell me if anything goes wrong. Sound good?”
“Sounds good,” she echoes.
Rory settles into the reading chair withThe Night Before Christmas, and I position myself behind the laptop where I can monitor both the test stream and the FaceTime call.
And I watch something I wasn’t prepared for.
Rory captivating me. He’s good at this. Like really good. His voice drops low and mysterious for the opening lines then brightens with excitement when the children appear. He adds dramatic pauses in all the right places, builds anticipation before the big reveal, makes reindeer names sound magical instead of silly. He’s animated without being over the top, engaging without trying too hard, and holds up the picture book, so she can see the illustrations.
On Rory’s phone, Sophie’s transfixed, her eyes glued to the screen. And I’m frozen behind the laptop, watching this man read with such natural warmth, and such easy affection, I can barely breathe.
This is what he’d be like as a father someday. Patient. Playful. Endearing. An image hits me unbidden. Rory reading to a little girl with his dark eyes. A daughter, curled up in his lap.
I blink hard, shoving away the thought.
“That was amazing!” Sophie announces when he finishes.
“So you could see everything and hear okay?” he asks, returning to my side and the video call.
“A-okay. I heard you really good.”
“Really well,” Melissa corrects in the background.
“Really well,” Sophie amends with an eye roll.
“I’m glad,” Rory says.
