Christmas By Design

19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Beckett

Book, brandy, cat. That’s what I want. It’s what I do every Christmas Eve.

I repeat it to myself like a mantra as I retrace the route from Gemma’s parents’ house back to the highway. As if repetition could make it so.

In true suburban fashion, there is a giant mall just before the entrance to the highway. Sitting at the stoplight, I watch as last-minute shoppers crowd the parking lots and wonder if Gemma will be able to sneak away to buy Nova a present.

One of the anchor stores is a bookstore. Seeing it reminds me that I, too, didn’t get a chance to get to the store and buy myself a book for the evening. I always buy myself a special new hardcover to crack open on Christmas Eve, but I’ve been so busy with the Dash house that I hadn’t gotten around to selecting one. From the families walking in and out of the store, it looks like they’re still open. I might as well stop here since there’s no guarantee I’ll make it back to my local bookstore before they close for the holiday. Grumbling, I signal and pull into the turn lane.

When I push open the large, oak doors at the entrance, I’m greeted by the warm, vanilla-and-almond smell of new books. I veer straight for the table of new-release hardcovers. With any luck, I’ll find something quickly, and then I can be on my way.

But what catches my eye isn’t the hardcover books. It’s the table next to them that’s full of overpriced, impulse-buy toys set out for shoppers to grab for the kids on their way to the checkout.

Gemma was heartbroken about not having a gift for her daughter. There’s no way she’s going to be able to sneak away to get one this afternoon. The stores close soon, and she won’t want to leave Nova, anyway.

Before I can talk myself out of it, I grab the baby doll from the middle of the table and carry it under my arm to the checkout.

It isn’t until I’m pulling out of the parking lot and turning left, back toward Gemma’s house, that I realize I never bothered to pick out a book.