Page 118 of Pucked Up Plans
A mini-squeal makes Aubrey gasp but not because she’s scared. Oh no. Because she’s spotted Anna and Elsa blow-ups. Her exhilaration displays differently. While Lennon’s all aboutpointing, screeching, and bouncing in her seat, Aubrey’s more reserved, her eyes glued to the window, her smile growing wider as we pass each new house, completely enchanted by the scene in front of her. Her eyes barely blink.
“I think she likes it,” I mutter from the driver’s seat, discreetly folding Tate’s hand in mine.
“Just a little.”
As inspiring as the light displays are, I focus solely on Aubrey. Watching her experience this for the first time is as mesmerizing as I predicted. Her joy is infectious, her eyes glowing as the multi-colored lights reflect off the windows, her lips spread into a huge grin, elation exuding off.
We spend another twenty minutes driving around to different houses. My favorite is the one with the light show set to music. Despite the yawns from the back seat, I convince Tate to stay an extra few minutes so I can enjoy the display.
“Thanks for tonight.”
“You’re welcome, Tate. We’ll hit up another town this weekend if the weather’s good.”
“Another one?” she prods, confused by my suggestion.
“It’s what we do. Every night during the holiday season. A different part of our town each night or a different town altogether, like tonight.”
“Wow. I’m honored to be included.”
Stopped at a red light, I study her, fighting any urges of wanting more. “I’m pretty sure she’ll let you share it with us, even beyond this year. What do you think?”
It’s a bit of a rhetorical question, but I wait expectantly for an answer.
“Yes. I think I’d like that.”
“Great. This time next year, pencil us in for the holiday lights tour.”
It should feel weird to be making plans for a year in advance with our relationship being so new, but it only feelsright.
CHAPTER 27
TATE
If I thought the time between Thanksgiving and Christmas flew by, it’s nothing compared to Christmas and the start of the new year.
Aubrey and I hopped a plane to Kansas for two weeks, and Aunt Marsha joined us the first week so I didn’t have to fly alone. My mom couldn’t contain her elation at having us home and Marsha visit. She cried no less than a dozen times. Each occurrence, I guarded my heart against the guilt trying to worm in.
It was nice to be back in Kansas, spend time with my family, and even sneak out for a coffee date with Carley. Except being cornered by Damon’s mom. She looked paler and more frail than I remember, certainly not the regal woman who spat horrible things in my face when she learned I was pregnant. My defenses up, they weakened slightly when she told me they were dropping the custody suit and would leave me and Aubrey alone for a peaceful life. Through tears, she asked for an updated photo once a year, and putting myself in her shoes—losing my child and the only piece to her—I agreed. She thanked me profusely and walked away.
With the final burden completely lifted, I enjoyed the rest of my trip. But it didn’t feel like “home” anymore. By the end, even Aubrey was itching to get back to our new normal, the chaos of the holidays and being constantly crowded by her grandmother setting the introvert in her on edge.
It took us about a week after traveling to get back into a routine, but three weeks into January, it’s almost as if we’d never left.
This afternoon we’re making apple cider donuts at Walsh’s house. Aubrey mentioned something about donuts earlier in the week and when Walsh heard it, he took it upon himself to get everything we needed. My heart nearly burst into pieces at his generosity and accommodations for my girl. I got the sense Lennon wasn’t happy about it, but I assured him I’d make it up to her with cookies. That’s on tomorrow’s agenda.
As short as the drive to the Keeley’s usually is, the snow makes it a little more treacherous. I’m still overly cautious, even though it’s been about two months with it here. Thank goodness it’s not still snowing.
White knuckles grip the steering wheel the entire drive, but soon I’m pulling into their driveway. I spot Lennon in the front window watching for us.
The front door flies open, and she and Walsh stand there, huge matching grins on their faces. Emotion explodes in my chest at the sight. It’s not just Walsh who invokes these newfound feelings of love. His little girl has captured my heart too.
As I unbuckle Bree from her seat, her hands find my cheeks. “This is going to be so fun. I love you, Mommy.”
“I love you, Bean. No matter what happens, my love for you won’t ever change.”
I don’t know why I feel the urge to make the statement, but she accepts it easily. If she even comprehends it. If she doesn’t, it’s a reassurance to me.
Upon entering the house, Lennon throws her arms around my legs, her new favorite way to greet me. It took me a few times to get used to it, but now I expect it. She lets go and looks up at me.
