Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 29018 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 145(@200wpm)___ 116(@250wpm)___ 97(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29018 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 145(@200wpm)___ 116(@250wpm)___ 97(@300wpm)
Operation: PD – Present Drop – is completed flawlessly like it is every year. Coming up with a mission plan and executing it was an odd bonding project encouraged by Jaye. When Rainne was born, Charles explained what he used to do for Jaye, what his own parents had done for him, and then asked what I had always wanted for myself. From there we created an elaborate idea that allowed for keeping the magic of Christmas alive at every corner for as long as possible and having prepared answers for the inevitable pending interrogations. From the beginning, part of me thought this was Jaye’s way of giving us something to hone our shared skill sets on. And once he retired and I took a corporate gig, it was evident she was right.
Pulling off our Christmas Eve mission does fulfill a piece of ourselves we don’t get elsewhere.
Camaraderie.
Brotherhood.
Victory.
And of course, the honor that comes from doing something not for the glory but for the greater good.
The greater good being that my kids have the best experience possible for as long as possible.
Finally finished with the holiday assignment, I slip back into our bedroom where my wife is settled comfortably in the middle of the bed, biting her bottom lip in such a way I know exactly what she’s reading.
She only does that shit when it’s a sex scene. Wanna bet she’s squeezing her thighs together too?
“Good book, sweetheart?”
She less than innocently glances my direction. “Hm?”
I lightly chuckle, lock the bedroom door, and remove my fake beard.
Truth? I don’t like this shit anymore than Henz does.
“Everything good?”
Dropping the face piece on top of the nearby bookshelf is done in tandem with answering, “All set for the girls inevitable six a.m. wakeup.”
Jaye’s giggles stretch my own smile wider.
“And rumor has it the elves are very thankful that we will be sending cookies back to the North Pole from this point forward.”
The eye roll she delivers is attached to another giggle.
“I also heard from Jedd. He made it back to his hotel safely, got a kiss under the mistletoe – his own Christmas wish come true – and will be ready to be picked up whenever we’re ready to grab him. I figured we’d drop off cookies at the shelters and then snag him on the way back home.”
At that, she puts her tablet down on her nightstand. “We need to talk about Jedd.”
Knowing this was coming is what prompts me to fold my arms protectively across my chest prior to kicking my chin her direction to continue.
“Is it safe to assume he was the reason for the shopping sprees?”
“He needed clothes. Particularly ones he could wear to work.”
“And the hotels?”
“It’s not like I could move him into our garage.”
The poke back at our beginning causes her to slightly blush.
“I would’ve put him in an extended stay while we get him settled into a place of his own but due to the holidays, none were available, so I took the best deal I could get.”
“The extra groceries?”
“He was practically starving and needed to eat.” A small shrug is wedged between sentences. “Your dad also brought leftovers by the office for me to take to him.”
“Of course he knew all about this before I did,” she mumbles under her breath in slight irritation.
“Yeah. I needed him to check Jedd out the same way he did me. Not because our daughters were going to date him, obviously, but because before I invested the time and the money and the fucking energy into this total fucking stranger, I wanted to know he was who he said he was and not some con artist.”
A faint hum is followed by the expected question. “And is he who he says he is?”
My nodding is slow. Intentional. “In some ways it was like having the ghost of fucking Christmas past remind me where I came from.”
Her eyebrows lift in question.
“Shit childhood. Father died early. Mother worked three jobs just to try to keep a roof over their head. No military experience, but he pulled himself up. Built a better life. Worked shit jobs while putting himself through enough school to land something bigger. Better. Got a wife. Kids. House. The whole fucking shebang until the corporate company he was employed by does what they tend to.”
“He was laid off.”
“And never recovered.” I nod again at the same speed. “I was left for dead by a system not designed to care if I live and he was held down to die by the lie they label as being in the middle class.” Shrugging again is mindlessly done. “He made some mistakes, but nothing too crazy. Nothing he couldn’t grow from with a little…compassion.”
My wife beams brightly.
“The only reason I kept all this shit from you was because I didn’t wanna get your hopes up. People are…unpredictable sometimes. You can study their behaviors and their patterns all you want. You can plan until you’re blue in the balls and still be blindsided. I didn’t want that. I didn’t want you to go through that. I didn’t want you to have that hope built and then have it taken from you.” This time my headshaking is frantic. “That shit would hurt a million times more times than you being pissed at me for keeping some shit a secret for a couple weeks.”