“We’re out camping in December because you can’t handle what’s been happening with Grandma’s case,” Dean pointed out, pausing to blow hot air into his hands. “No offense, Dad, but I don’t think you’re in a position to lecture me about how I handle my problems.”
Ian shoved his gloved hands into his pockets. “You do make a good point.”
Dean’s head swiveled in his direction; disbelief written all over his face. “That’s it? No lecture about how I should learn from your mistakes, do better, et cetera?”
Ian gave his son a small smile. “Well, you should anyway, but I’m not leading by example right now, am I?”
Dean frowned. “No, I guess not.”
“Life’s not always going to work out the way you want it to, and it’s important to be able to make your peace with that anyway.”
“How?”
Ian wrenched his gaze away and stared at the wet snow steadily falling a few feet away. “I don’t know, exactly. I guess you put one foot in front of the other and take it one day at a time. And you do your best and pray that things get better.”
“That’s good advice, but I think we should do one more thing.”
Ian swung his gaze back to his son’s. “What’s that?”
“Don’t go camping in December,” Dean joked, shaking his head. “Can we please go back home? I’m pretty sure I heard something in that cave.”
Ian chuckled. “We’ll wait for the snow to ease up, and we can go.”
Dean threw his arms around his father and squeezed, and Ian suddenly saw an image of a much younger Dean, clinging to him like his life depended on it. “For the record, I think you’re handling things way better than a lot of people in your position would’ve. I don’t know how you’re doing it, but you must be doing something right.”
Ian clapped his son on the back. “I’m still not investing in your friend’s project.”
Dean laughed and pulled away. “It’s okay. We’ll figure something out.”
“Honey, we’re home,” Ian grunted as he and Dean dragged the Christmas tree in. As soon as it was in, Dean kicked the door shut with the back of his leg and set it down on the hardwood floor. “We’ve got a surprise for you.”
Kelli and Dana poked their heads out of the kitchen, their hair piled on top of their head and white masks plastered to their faces. Dean kicked off his shoes, took one look at them, and burst into laughter.
“I didn’t know the circus was in town.” Dean wiped tears off his face and clutched his sides. “It’s too bad my battery is dead, or I’d have plenty of pictures of this.”
Kelli stuck her tongue out at him. “You’re just jealous because we’re going to have better skin than you.”
Dana stood up straighter and folded her arms over her chest. “Don’t hate us because you’re not us.”
Dean rolled his eyes. “Oh, please. You two spend hundreds of dollars on products, and you’re wearing Disney footie pajamas. Why would I want to be you? I don’t even want to be associated with how embarrassing you are.”
Ian glanced over their shoulder and back at his daughters. “Where’s your mom?”
“She said she wanted to get something from upstairs, but it’s been a while,” Kelli told him with a frown. “We were making some snacks before we went up to check on her.”
“I’ll do it. Can you help your brother carry the tree into the living room?”
As one, Kelli and Dana nodded.
Loud bickering ensued as Ian turned his back on them and took the stairs, two at a time. In the doorway to the bedroom, he stopped and rapped. Lucy’s soft voice spilled out. He pushed the door open and found her perched on the edge of the bed in her pajamas and robe, her feet stuffed into a pair of slippers and a picture frame in her lap.
She turned tear-stained eyes to him, and Ian’s stomach dipped.
“What are you doing back home? Did you forget something?”
Ian crossed over to her and lowered himself onto the bed next to her. “Yeah, I don’t even know why we went. I know there’s nowhere else we’d both rather be.”
Lucy sighed and placed her head against his shoulder. “I’m getting my honey and cinnamon mask all over your clothes.”
