Single All the Way (Single Dads of Dragonfly Lake #2)

Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

Emerson

B y Sunday evening I’d like to say the kids and I were settling into our temporary new normal. Xavier was completely comfortable, and Skyler was a lot more content and seemed to be getting used to living with the Holloways. The problem was me. I didn’t know if I’d ever be able to fully relax around Ben. I was too drawn to him.

I suspected it was because I’d been alone for so many years. I longed for a man, a partner, in general. Ben was a wonderful person, but I kept reminding myself this was because of our proximity more than anything.

I’d caught myself more than once today nearly reaching out to touch him as we laughed at something the kids said or almost leaning into his side as we walked next to each other. In other words, if I dropped my guard, I might cross a line or three.

As the six of us walked with Luke Durham toward the section of his tree farm that had the type of tree Ben wanted, the tiny snowflakes falling from the sky became bigger at once, as if a switch had been flipped.

“Nice effects, my friend,” Ben said to Luke, laughing. “It’s like you powered up a snow machine.”

“Wish I had that kind of control,” Luke said. “We’d crank out just enough to drive business.”

“I bet so.” Ben had a daughter on each side, holding their hands like the loving father he was. I wasn’t sure which of the three of them was most excited.

“Douglas firs are through here,” Luke said, his words coming out with puffs of frost in the air. “As far as you can go that way.” He pointed. “Text me if you need any help cutting it?—”

“I won’t,” Ben said. “You’ve got plenty of other customers tonight who might.”

“Okay, then happy tree hunting, guys,” Luke said to all of us with a friendly smile that looked tired around the edges.

“Thanks, Luke,” I said as he headed back to the open-air shelter that served as tree HQ.

“Have fun, kids,” he called as he walked away.

“Come on, Sky,” Xavier said, bursting with enthusiasm as he took his sister’s hand. “Let’s find a perfect Christmas tree!”

“We’re gonna find a perfect one too,” Ruby said with more glee than competition. “Let’s go, Evelyn.”

“Here’s the deal,” Ben said, stopping all four of them in their tracks. “Xavier and Sky, you go down this row.” He pointed. “Ruby and Evelyn, you come over here and check out this row.” He indicated one row over. “Let us know when you find a good one. Miss Emerson and I get final approval.”

“Let’s go!” Xavier said.

Skyler let out a happy giggle as she looked up at her brother, and they rushed down the row. It never failed to make my heart contract in my chest when Xavier took his little sister under his wing.

“You and I will keep an eye on everybody,” Ben said to me as his kids skipped over to their assigned row.

“They’ll be okay even when we can’t see them?” I asked. Xavier and Sky were already a good forty feet away.

“We can hear them,” Ben said.

I realized he was right as I heard Evelyn ask Ruby what she thought of a particular tree. When Ruby replied, “It’s too little,” Ben and I laughed.

“While they’re busy,” Ben said, taking a thermos out of an inside pocket in his thick coat, “I brought us a hot adult beverage.” He handed the top, which served as a cup, to me, then unscrewed a second cup from the bottom.

“What is it?” I asked, catching a whiff of chocolate.

“Hot cocoa with Bailey’s. It’s cold tonight.”

He poured some for each of us, and we clinked our stumpy metal cups together, laughing.

The warm, sweet liquid went down easily as we kept an eye on all four kids and embarked in a lighthearted debate about which trees were contenders and which weren’t. His preference was for a fat tree that was nearly as wide at the bottom as it was tall. Knowing the living room corner we planned to put the tree in, I was worried about it fitting and pointed out thinner, more elegant-looking trees.

There wasn’t a lot of spiked cocoa, just enough for the beginnings of a warm, buzzy contentedness. As the huge snowflakes came down heavier and accumulated on the ground, I felt like we were in a magical, insulated-from-reality snow globe where everything was peaceful and beautiful and in harmony.

Ben and I kept things between us light and full of laughter as we checked in on both sets of kids from time to time and tried to convince them there wasn’t one perfect tree but rather many of them that could serve our purposes. They were having none of it and in no hurry.

For once, I embraced that. I let them go at their own speed, sipping my cocoa, enjoying Ben’s company, laughing more than I had in ages.

I didn’t want the evening to end.

When the cocoa was gone, I handed my cup to Ben. He returned them both to the thermos.

“Didn’t even have to fight the kids off from the adult beverages,” he said, grinning. “That was the objective all along.”

I laughed. “Mission accomplished.”

“Let’s go see if they’re close to deciding on a tree.” He extended his arm, and I wove mine through his.

The kids had disappeared from our current row, so we slipped between two bushy trees to the next row over to find Skyler and Xavier running in our direction.

“Mommy, we found one!” Skyler called out.

“It’s way down there where Ruby and Evelyn are standing,” Xavier said.

Ben let go of me, leaned down, and picked up Skyler when she reached us. “Is it a fat tree or a skinny tree?” he asked.

“A big, fat one!” my daughter said joyfully.

Ben shot a private, handsome look of victory my way, making me laugh.

“Show me the way, Sky Blue.”

“Hey, Xav,” I said before my son could run off after them. He turned back to me, his eyes lit up and curious. I bent down and hugged him. “Thank you for being such a good big brother. I love you, kiddo. Your sister does too.”

He hugged me back, wrapping his arms tightly around my shoulders. “This is the funnest night ever, Mom! It’s like…Christmas magic!” He ended the hug and took off toward the others, his excitement too much for him to stand still for things like moms and mushy stuff.

My heart overflowed with gratitude and love—gratitude that Ben had included us in his family’s special tradition and love for my kids and this experience I’d unknowingly deprived them of for all these years.

With our noisy group in my sights down the way, I took a few moments to myself to soak everything in. The smell of pine filled the brisk, snowy air. Laughter rang out frequently, warming me as much as the Bailey’s had. I leaned my head back and looked up at the zillions of snowflakes fluttering down so peacefully, several of them landing on my face.

I sucked in a deep, cleansing breath of fresh, cold air, imagining it replacing the lingering stress from another jam-packed day at work and the season in general. This was what it should be all about. Families. Memories. Snowflakes and laughter.

By the time I finally rejoined our group by the chosen tree, Ben was lying on the ground, reaching under the branches, sawing the thick trunk, a lantern nearby. Ruby and Skyler stood behind him, out of the way, and Evelyn and Xavier were on the other side of the tree, pulling it slightly as Ben directed them.

“I can tell this isn’t your first time,” I said as I joined the two older kids to help.

“You’re just in time,” Ben said, pausing the saw. “You kids move over here with Ruby and Sky. Let Miss Emerson hold the tree. I’m about through to the other side of the trunk.”

We all did as he said, with me reaching into the branches to grab the trunk up high so it wouldn’t fall on him.

Minutes later, the tools and supplies were stashed back in Ben’s bag and the kids were practically jumping up and down with adoration for our “perfect tree” that was, indeed, an extra-wide one.

As I picked up the bag, Ben singlehandedly hoisted the tree up to his shoulder. Not gonna lie…the sight of him being all lumberjackish, lifting a heavy tree, his eyes lit with happiness, had me lighting up on the inside in forbidden ways. Down, girl , I thought.

The kids raced ahead of us, two by two again, toward the shelter and checkout, leaving Ben and me alone.

“I understand it now,” I said, walking next to him on the opposite side of the tree.

“Understand what?” he said on an exhale, telling me the tree was heavier than he made it seem.

“Why you go to all the trouble to pick out a tree, cut it yourself, take it home. The kids will remember this forever.”

“Yeah,” he said, his lips stretching into a sexy grin. “It’s always a special night.”

While I wasn’t committing to cutting our own tree next year, when I wouldn’t have Ben’s help, I’d remember the evening too…to say nothing of Ben carrying that tree as if it weighed ten pounds.

Ben

I’d set out to show Emerson and her kids what the Christmas season could be like. Based on what she’d said as we headed to pay for the tree, I suspected I’d succeeded tonight. What I hadn’t counted on was screwing up my own head even more in the process.

We’d just hung the last few ornaments from the branches, with Emerson-approved instrumental holiday music playing quietly in the background. The rotund tree overfilled the corner of the living room, as Emerson had feared, but I didn’t regret our choice for a second. We couldn’t go tall because of low ceilings in this old farmhouse, but we could go wide, and we had. It gave the room a cozy warmth.

There’d been a poignant moment early on when we’d unpacked the heart-shaped ornament with a verse about remembering loved ones we’d gotten in memory of the girls’ mom. Our ritual was for Evelyn to read it out loud, then both girls kissed it and hung it together. Xavier and Skyler had respected the moment by listening solemnly and watching.

Emerson had sidled up to me and quietly asked if I was okay. I’d easily nodded. At moments like that, my heart ached for my girls and the loss of their mother, but the pain of my own loss had dimmed significantly over the years as I’d come to terms with the ups and downs that had been life with Leeann.

Now Emerson and I were packing up the empty ornament containers as the kids chattered about the prettiest decorations and whether white lights or multicolored ones were better.

“The aroma’s pretty incredible; I have to admit,” Emerson said to me. “Not sure we’ll be able to go back to fake after this.”

“You’ll smell it every time you walk in the house from now till New Year’s.”

“Nice.” She stacked some of the boxes. “I told your girls I’d take them shopping to buy gifts for you next weekend. I hope that’s okay.”

“Of course.” I straightened and stretched my back before taking the load to the basement. “On a similar note, Xavier pulled me aside earlier. He has a special idea for you.”

“Oh? Should I be worried?”

I laughed. “Not at all. But it’ll take some time. We’re planning to start on it Sunday, so that’ll work out well.”

“You don’t have to do that, Ben.”

“I know. I want to,” I reassured her.

“Is Skyler helping?” she asked.

I shook my head. It’d be a surprise for Skyler and my girls as well as Emerson. “Would you mind taking her with you and the girls?”

“We’ll make it a girls’ day.”

Xavier and I had come up with an idea for the parade after all. He had hopes of winning a prize for his mom, but we’d have a backup plan in place just in case, because there were a dozen variables of this thing even working.

Though it’d be a multiday project, I was all in. I liked to think Blake would approve of his son and me bonding over a project that would require power tools and manual labor.

“Mommy, come see,” Skyler called out.

All four kids were lying on the floor on their backs, shoulder to shoulder, in a semicircle, their heads partially under the tree, gazing at the lights above them.

When I came back from taking boxes to the basement, Emerson had joined the kids, lying next to her daughter on the end, her knees up, caramel hair draped across the floor.

“Come on, Daddy!” Ruby said.

“Is there room for me?”

“We’ll scoot.” Evelyn directed the group, and they made room for me next to Emerson.

I lowered my big frame onto the floor and wedged it in between Emerson and the hearth. I had to lie on my side to fit. I shared a smile with Emerson, which put our heads just inches away, so I quickly turned my head and averted my gaze to the lights above.

“Magical, right, Daddy?” Evelyn said.

“Absolutely,” I confirmed.

We did this every year, usually just the three of us. Another tradition. An attempt to ensure we all took time to stop and take in the beauty of the tree. I knew from experience how easy it was to walk by it without seeing it. The girls had taken to it immediately and never let me skip it or forget it.

I breathed in the pine and noted the hint of Emerson’s feminine scent mixed in. Letting the calm and peace of the rare quiet moment settle into my bones, I watched the sparkle of the colored lights reflect off our beloved ornaments.

As contentedness seeped through me, I rested my hand on Emerson’s arm, which was draped over her middle. I propped my head up on my other arm just enough that I could see past her to the four smaller faces. All four kids gazed upward with expressions of enchantment and wonder. I couldn’t help but feel the moment deep inside me, and with it came a kernel of a thought, an inkling of What if this was forever? What if this was my family?

I couldn’t deny the warmth that shot through me.

Seconds later, the moment was interrupted by Emerson’s ringtone. I shifted my hand away as she rolled partway over to get her phone out of her back pocket.

“What time is it?” she muttered.

“Ten till nine,” I said.

Once her phone was out, I could see the name on the screen—Darius Weber. He was a real estate agent in town. I knew she’d been looking for a home, checking online listings, but his name in black-and-white made it more real.

Emerson sat up and answered.

Unlike me, the kids were unbothered and uninterested in Emerson’s conversation. They pointed out the ornaments that sparkled the most, trying to one-up each other.

I tried to give Emerson privacy by tuning in to the kids’ talk, but she sat right there in the middle of the living room floor. I couldn’t miss that something had come on the market, and Darius thought she’d want to look at it as soon as possible.

Before ending the call, she stood, paced to the dining room as she asked questions.

I waited until it sounded like her call was over, then I joined her with a questioning look.

“That was Darius,” she said, her face lit with hope. “A three-bedroom house came on the market outside of town, on the road to Runner. He hasn’t seen it yet, just saw it pop up a few minutes ago, but we’re going through it tomorrow morning.”

That was all it took for the contentedness and the what-ifs from under the tree to float away.

“That’s great,” I said, reminding myself it was indeed a step toward her goal.

I needed to be happy for Emerson, not sad that my farfetched pipe dream moment under the tree had been crushed. She’d made it clear what her plans were and that they didn’t include me.