“We all wanted to make Remi’s first Christmas real special.” Austin smiles in a way that makes him seem exactly his twenty-two years as he points at the framed picture of Remi on my desk. “We know you’re private but we’re still a family here. You made us a family and you’re here all day. You honored your promise so everyone else could spend it with theirs tonight.”
Sitting back, I study the young man in front of me, touched by his words and also relishing the fact that I made the right choice when I hired him. He’s still green, but his uniform is pressed, his shoes are polished, and he’s eager to make a difference.
He reminds me of me at that age.
“I’m not sure what to say,” I start, my eyes landing on the neatly wrapped packages for my daughter.
“We’re excited to meet her, watch her grow up.” With his eyes twinkling, he adds, “Maybe drive her home from a few parties when she’s older when we get calls for kids out in the fields and she wasn’t where she was supposed to be.”
“It’s too soon to give me that much anxiety.”
He laughs but I’m not kidding.
“Fine. Any news on that baby that was surrendered to the FD a couple of weeks ago?”
I nod. “A family member reached out to the caseworker after they found out what happened. They want to adopt her,” I say, my throat dry as equal parts joy and devastation course through me.
Being a father has changed me, and I send up a prayer that her family will love her to the end of the world like I know Hayden and Everett do. The complexities of the situation make it impossible to notfeelsomething. The onslaught of emotion is never-ending, but I’m saved from delving any further down the rabbit hole when a friendly face appears in the doorway.
“Knock, knock,” Miss Thelma says before walking in and joining us in the office. She has a couple of gift bags and a basket of muffins which Austin helps her set down. She’s decked out in a red-and-green-swirl print top with a picture of Louise wearing a Santa hat front and center.
It’s truly an eyesore, but as always, I’m sure that was her intention.
“Mornin’, Miss Thelma,” I say, standing and rounding my desk to give her a hug. “Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas to you too.” She pats my cheek, her face full of affection before turning to Austin and repeating the greeting.
“Big plans today?” he asks her and she nods.
“I’m heading to the Thayers’ tonight and then a couple of the widows are headed out for drinks.”
“Make sure y’all have a ride or call us,” I say pointedly and she shrugs.
“How much trouble do you think a bunch of old gussies can get into on Christmas? I mean really, Jensen.”
“A lot if you’re involved.”
Austin snickers as she grins because we both know she’s proud as hell of that fact.
My cell phone rings in my pocket, and I pull it out to see my mama’s name flash across the screen. Excusing myself, I step out into the hall and answer, “Merry Christmas, Mama.”
“Merry Christmas, Jensen. How is our sweet girl?”
“She’s good. We’re celebrating tomorrow; I’m on another double today.”
“It will be so special.” Her voice is subdued, and I know she’s thinking about not bein’ here.
“Mama, there was no way to know how everything was gonna work out. We’ve always celebrated when we could all be together, and it’s a tradition we’ll continue.”
“I know.” There’s a muffled conversation before my father joins her on the line.
“Merry Christmas, son.”
“Merry Christmas, Dad. Did you make Indie waffles this mornin’?”
“Course. She wanted chocolate ones and we made a caramel sauce to drizzle over the strawberries. Then sprinkled powdered sugar on top.”
“Always a classic,” I concur with a nod even though they can’t see me. My father and Indie have a binder full of winning waffle combinations from every Christmas since she was seven. They’d included a few other special occasions over the years that had been particularly momentous, but the binder remained sacred.
