Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 68293 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 341(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68293 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 341(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Gus burst out of the car the second it stopped, and ran to the pile of boxes.
“Daddy, this one’s for me!”
“Christmas presents?” Wes asked.
“Not from me,” Adam said.
He had a brief swell of hope that maybe Mason had decided to shower Gus with gifts to make up for being an absolute failure, but he knew in his heart it wasn’t the case. Mason wasn’t the bother-with-the-post-office type any more than he was the amends-making type.
Adam insisted on opening one of the packages addressed to him first, in case this was a prank. He slit the first box open with his house keys and pulled out two boxes of Christmas lights.
“Oh!” Gus’ mouth fell open.
“I’ll be damned,” Adam said. “The Instagram post worked.”
Darren and Rose McKinnon, the Mills’ next-door neighbors, picked that moment to come outside with their sons who were the same age as Gus—Dustin and Derek, or Donny and Derek, or Dennis and Dunstan; Adam could never remember.
Wes retreated to the side of the house.
“Looks like Santa came early this year, huh, sweetheart?” Darren McKinnon called to Gus.
“Oh, there’s no such thing as Santa,” Gus called back.
The McKinnons looked scandalized and Rose clapped her hands around either Derek or Dunstan’s ears to try and shield them, but she was too late and had only the two hands.
“Of course there’s a Santa Claus,” she called, eagle eyes trained on Adam. It was clear she expected him to correct Gus. He smiled back at her, no intention whatsoever of doing so.
Gus laughed, then she waved. “Hi, Drake, hi, Dakota.”
They ignored her.
Adam stopped bothering trying to remember their names.
Darren and Rose shepherded their kids to the car and drove off without another word.
“I don’t think you’re supposed to tell other kids that Santa doesn’t exist, sweetie.”
Gus shrugged.
“Santa’s stupid. If Drake and Dakota want to think some old man is climbing down their chimney that’s their problem.”
Wes emerged from the shadows, nodding like this was a perfectly reasonable stance. Adam bit his fist to avoid laughing.
Having had the final word in the Santa Claus discussion, Gus turned to ripping open the rest of the boxes, eyes glowing with delight. All told, Adam’s fans had sent him twenty-nine strands of lights: twenty-one white, five multicolored, and one package of three strands of bright pink lights, which Gus declared “Weird, but cool.”
Many of the packages had notes with them, wishing Adam and Gus a happy Christmas and good luck with their project. A couple were from people Adam had worked with, and those had more personal messages.
One card was from a woman named Claire whom he’d shot a few years before, coincidentally on Gus’ fourth birthday. During the shoot, he’d started crying thinking about how big she was getting and how much he loved her. He’d been mortified at his lack of professional veneer, but Claire had been lovely and hugged him, and told him that feeling never went away.
Her note was to Gus.
“Sweetie, this one’s to you. It’s from a friend of mine in Boulder. ‘Dear Gus, I’m not surprised that your dad is doing something to make your dreams come true because that’s the kind of father he is.’”
Wes put his arm around Adam’s shoulders and squeezed.
When Gus had turned four, Adam had been overcome by the feeling of her growing up. The knowledge that his baby was gone and a small person was there in her place. Now, he looked at the strong, smart wiseass Gus had become, and his heart swelled with pride.
“‘He loves you so much and I hope you never forget all the wonderful times you spend together. All my best, Claire.’”
“Thanks, Daddy,” Gus said quietly, and fit herself to his other side.
With the man he was falling for on one side of him and the daughter he loved more than anything on the other side, Adam Mills felt utterly and completely at peace.
Chapter Fourteen
Wes
With the lights that Adam’s Instagram followers had sent him, the Mills’ house was beginning to look more like the competition for Most Lights Ever that Gus wanted.
Of course, they would never actually achieve that. Wes had looked it up the first time she mentioned it to find that the Guinness record for most Christmas lights ever on a residential property was held by the Gay family in Lagrangeville, New York, with 641,695 lights.
With each passing day, more and more lights were delivered. Adam had Wes take a picture of him and Gus standing in front of their newly illuminated house that he posted to his Instagram account, thanking everyone who had sent lights and announcing that they were still looking for more if anyone had them.
The Mills house was no Lagrangeville, but at least now when Gus got home from school and flipped the power switch, the lights no longer looked depressing.
In fact, this evening it looked downright inviting. The lights cast a glow around the house, every window downstairs was lit, and Wes imagined he could hear laughter and chatter coming from inside. He’d been glorying in the versatility of algae for hours now, but he couldn’t help getting up every ten minutes or so, going to the periscope, and peeking at the Mills’ house.