Page 6 of The Holidays with Mr. Mitchell
“Ah,” I said. “What’s it about, so maybe I’ll watch too?”
“Nope,” she popped her lips as she dragged out the word and grinned. “It’s the show we watch when you leave, so that way we don’t miss you so much.”
I smiled at her and hugged her. “Perhaps that’s a fantastic way to pass the time. I know how it feels to miss all of you, and I don’t want any of you to feel that way.”
She leaned into me, and I watched the characters narrate their way through some issues that had likely occurred two seasons prior. As much as I wanted to stay with Izzy in this state, I really needed to check on Avery. And, of course, finish responding to those goddamn emails.
“All right, kid,” I said. “Mom’s going to be here in a bit to tuck you away for the night, and now that my cookie is all gobbled up, I need to finish some last-minute things for work. Enjoy your show until Mom busts you for watching it without her.”
“I was going to turn it off,” she said contemplatively, “but since you and Mom always talk forever, I think I’ll watch another episode.”
“It’s nine-thirty, dude. It’s time to wrap it up,” I challenged my feisty kid. “Go brush that sugar out of your teeth first.”
“Fine,” another eyeroll.
Girls were fun to raise and bond with as a father. You’d usually get greeted with a snarky comment, followed by an eye roll, earn their appreciation, exert some authority, and wrap it all up with a parting eye roll. Damn, I loved it.
I walked out to Avery just as she stepped from her office. Pulling her into my arms, I studied her tired eyes. “What happened today?”
“It’s the woman who wanted to come to the center today. She went to the hospital tonight. Apparently, it was a domestic case,” she said against my chest.
“Fuck,” I said, resting my chin on her head. “I know you can’t give personal details, especially since I may know her husband, but is there anything you can say?”
“Sadly, she didn’t want to come to the center, but I still don’t feel right saying anything without the woman’s expressed permission.”
“It’s understandable,” I said, holding her tighter. “I’m so sorry you have these days, Av. I wish I could fix it all for you.”
She stepped back and smiled. “A hot bubble bath and my favorite glass of wine will most definitely take the edge off.”
I arched an eyebrow. “I can offer more than that, my love,” I said, running my hands over her shoulders.
“Oh, trust me, you will. I just need to get these raw nerves settled, then your gorgeous self is going to finish what we started last night after I got home.”
“You’re damn right we are,” I cupped her chin and kissed her lips. “Let me get the candles lit and the water flowing.”
“I’ve got all of that,” she smiled. “Go take care of those emails, then join me when you’re done.”
“Deal.”
I walked into my office and rushed through the emails that needed my approval before morning. It was hard to focus on work with nights like these, knowing my wife needed me in more ways than words could express. I still hadn’t had enough of her since returning from London yesterday.
Three emails down, and I noticed that my secretary had flagged the Special Events Department memo as “holiday approval.”
My lips twisted with annoyance at the endless list of holiday obligations. It felt like we’d just finished with all this crap, and here it was again. I scanned the list, thinking maybe this year we could switch it up instead of repeating the same tired routine. Still expensive enough to show appreciation, but different—because we’d done the same damn thing last year, and the year before that, and every fucking year before.
Click. Charcuterie boards. Click. Champagne. Done. Seven seconds and everyone was covered—from the hospital to the London office to downtown Los Angeles, and, of course, every company Mitchell and Associates had acquired. Everyone would be receiving fresh, unique, and different Christmas gifts this year, and it took less than a blink to make the decision.
Not that anyone would notice. Everyone had too much shit going on in their lives these days to even notice me trying to change up their holiday gift this year.
What was important now was enjoying the rest of the night with my wife and being quietly proud that it only took me thirty minutes to handle these minor details before work tomorrow.
THREE
Avery
I was steppingout of the bath by the time my tall, dark, and so-handsome-it-was-beyond-me-at-times man walked into the master suite. Steam still curled around me from the bathroom, scented with lavender oils I’d poured into the tub. My mind had finally begun to shift from the heaviness of Claire’s situation to the quieter ache of how much I’d missed my family tonight.
The bath and wine helped me peel away the weight. Still, the guilt lingered. I always wondered if I was doing enough, if offering women like Claire a safe place to land ever truly counted. I couldn’t save her, not completely, but maybe I could be a voice, a helping hand, or even just a presence when she needed one most. Hopefully, the counselors at Saint John’s, where she’d been taken, would encourage her to step toward saving herself. That was something I couldn’t do for her.
