Page 8 of A Season of Second Chances
Alana has syrup on her cheek and is telling me an elaborate story about a snowman she built last year that was taller than her daddy, and Winter is watching his daughter with so much love in his eyes it makes me wonder what it would be like if I had stuck around.
This is what I left behind. Not just Winter, but the possibility of this.
"Joy?" Winter's voice pulls me back. "You okay?"
"Yeah," I say softly, picking up my fork. "Yeah, I'm good."
And for the first time since last night, I think I might actually mean it.
Six
Winter
"The main road is closed," I tell the person on the other side of the phone. They've called to check on their reservation. With it being the weekend before Christmas, they're obviously upset. "I can give you a refund, or a voucher for any other time in the next year. I'm so sorry; we didn't expect this large of a snow storm." They say they want a refund, and I make a note to process it later on in the day. "The refund will probably take twenty-four to forty-eight hours to process. We hope to see you again at some point."
"Thank you for your help."
And with those words, they hang up. I hate the fact that we can't make Christmas special for everyone. Christmas was always a hard time for me and my family. We never had the money for gifts, and there were a few holidays we didn't even have a roof over our head. That's why when I bought this place I wanted to make it a destination for families at Christmas.
"You look like you could use this."
An ice cold Sprite is set down in front of me. My mouth waters because it's my favorite drink, and I try to limit them. Too much sugar is bad for your teeth. "Thank you," I tell Joy as I pop open the tab and take a big gulp.
"Are people calling to cancel their reservations?" She asks, leaning against the counter, glancing around the almost empty lobby.
"Yeah." I sigh. "It sucks, but it's a part of the business. More than anything I hate disappointing families who were really looking forward to coming here, and having a good holiday."
Her eyes roam my face, before she smiles softly. "Do you ever think about the night you asked me to dance?"
I groan, throwing my head back. "Yeah, when this place was just where we had our holiday dances for school? I remember. I was so damn nervous that you'd say no. Didn't know that would lead into us being together for years." And then you leaving, but I don't say those words out loud.
"You were so cute in your button-down and dress pants," she grins.
"I thought you were the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen in your green dress."
Her cheeks turn pink, and she laughs. "I can't believe you remember I was wearing a green dress."
The smile fades from my face, my eyes meet hers. "Believe it or not, I remember everything about our relationship."
She's about to say something when Alana comes running through. "Dad, can I go with Carol to feed the birds?"
"You can, but listen to her and put on your snowsuit."
She pouts, her bottom lip sticking out. "I hate the snowsuit."
Lately she's been pressing her boundaries, and I wish she'd just agree to everything I say like she used to. "I know you do, but it's cold out there. If you wear the snowsuit we can have hot chocolate tonight when we decorate the tree," I offer, tilting my head to the bare tree in the lobby.
"You promise?" She questions, her eyebrows raised.
"I promise." I make a cross over my heart and blow a kiss toward her.
Apparently happy with that answer, she nods, and turns, running toward where Carol is holding the employee door open for her.
"She's really cute, Winter."
"Thank you." I can't help the pride that fills my chest when someone compliments my daughter. "She's the best thing that's ever happened to me. Being her dad? That's what I was meant to do. Some days I wonder how I got so lucky."
Joy's expression softens, and she looks toward the door where Alana and Carol disappeared. "She seems really happy. That says a lot about you."
