“No one is perfect, Nick.” Thomas’s voice deepened as he made eye contact across the table. “That’s the whole point of Christmas, you know? God coming to us through the baby Jesus to be perfect when we couldn’t measure up. That’s the first and best thing you could demonstrate to any kid. But you have to believe it yourself.”
Hmm. Did he hold himself to too high a standard?
“People fall off pedestals.” Thomas shrugged. “And in my experience raising teenagers, they respond well to sincerity. Adults owning and admitting when they screw up. That’s much more admirable than pretending to never mess up at all.”
“He’s right.” Grace nodded.
“You being human is the best ministry you could give those kids you want to be an example to.”
Nick wadded up his napkin. “Maybe.” But if that was true, why did he still feel like he was seventeen all over again? Disappointing everyone who was supposed to care about him?
He’d been so close to his dream. Now the thought of returning to his cubicle and doing the same thing, day after day, felt like a prison sentence, but he’d done it to himself. The Sinclairs had a point, but at the same time, if he’d handled the past week with the maturity he should have—the maturity necessary to inspire troubled youth toward making better decisions—Holly wouldn’t be hurting.
And Nick wouldn’t be heading home to spend yet another Christmas with a bowl of soup.
But there was something else he had to say first for Holly’s sake.
With his fork, he traced a pattern in the leftover icing on his plate. “I’m not sure if you noticed, but Holly seemed to be the only Sinclair kid not thrilled about this move.” He set down the fork with a clatter. “I can’t be the reason she loses the home she was just starting to love again.”
“Holly? Upset about the house?” Grace blinked a few times. “I didn’t catch that last night. I thought everyone took the news so well.” She chuckled. “I was even berating myself for having been so worried everyone would lose their minds.”
“Yeah, she seemed quiet, but that’s Holly sometimes.” Thomasshrugged. “I didn’t realize either.” He looked to his wife. “We should talk to her.”
“Just please don’t tell Holly I told you.” Nick pushed back from the table and gathered his plate and trash. “I think feeling seen by you two would mean a lot to her right now.”
Thomas and Grace exchanged another look. Grace touched Nick’s arm, pausing his route to the sink. “Please don’t be too hard on yourself. You’re a good man—always looking out for others.”
Nick swallowed the lump in his throat. “I’ve been pretty selfish. I wanted this property too badly. For the future campers, yes, but also for myself. I was ready to start a new chapter in my life.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that.” Thomas frowned.
“There is when you hurt people along the way trying to get it.” His stomach knotted. The second cinnamon roll had been a bad idea. “Maybe there’s some truth in what Holly thinks of me after all.”
“I doubt that. Sure, you made some mistakes the last week, but we did too.” Grace gestured with her hand between her and Thomas. “We shouldn’t have asked you to keep our secret. It sounds like that one started the whole chain.”
“I agree. We apologize for anything we added to this mess.” Thomas cleared his throat. “I truly hope you can stay and patch things up with Holly. And hey…” He patted his shirt pocket and smiled. “I’ve still got that calculator whenever you’re ready.”
Tempting. So tempting.
But Nick slowly shook his head. “I appreciate it. Appreciate everything. But…I need to go.” He set his dishes in the sink, picked up his suitcase, and checked his watch. Seven o’clock. The rest of the family would be rising soon, and who knew what fun Christmas Eve activities they had planned?
Who would have thought he’d actually be sad to see the holidays go?
Nick blew out a short breath as Thomas and Grace stood to join him. “The rolls were amazing. Please tell everyone I said Merry Christmas.”
“We will. Telleveryone,that is.” Thomas pointedly raised a brow.
Nick offered a half smile, then slipped out of the kitchen, wresting open the front door before he could change his mind. Holly might get the holiday message, but it wouldn’t matter.
It was past time for Operation: Ramen for One.
Christmas Eve Night
Me:
You were right. I was wrong.
Piper:
