A Magical Christmas. Elizabeth Rolls
took another bite of toast. “It’s family night tonight. Everyone is coming, even Uncle Sean. Had you forgotten?”
Tyler groaned. “Team meeting and Fright Night? Whose idea was that?”
“Grandma’s. She worries about me, because I live with you, and the only thing that never runs out in our fridge is beer. And you’re not supposed to call it Fright Night. Can I come to the team meeting?”
“You would hate every moment.”
“I wouldn’t! I love being part of a family business. The way you feel about meetings is the way I feel about school. Being trapped indoors is a waste of time when there’s all that snow out there. But at least you get to ski all day. I’m stuck to a hard chair trying to understand math. Pity me.” She finished the toast, and Tyler frowned as crumbs fell on the floor.
Ash pounced on them with enthusiasm.
“You’re the reason the fridge is empty. You’re always eating. If I’d known you were going to eat this much, I never would have let you live with me. You’re costing me a fortune.”
The fact his joke made her laugh told him how far they’d come in the year they’d been living together.
“Grandma says if I wasn’t living with you, you’d drown in your own mess.”
“You’re the one dropping the crumbs. You should use a plate.”
“You never use a plate. You’re always dropping crumbs on the floor.”
“You don’t have to do everything I do.”
“You’re the grown-up. I’m following your example.” The thought was enough to bring him out in a cold sweat. “Don’t. You should do the opposite of everything I have ever done.” He watched as Jess bent to make a fuss of Luna, and the medal around her neck swung forward, almost hitting the dog on the nose. “Why are you wearing that?”
“It motivates me. And I like the example you set. You’re the coolest dad on the planet. And you’re fun to live with. Especially when you’re trying to behave.”
“Trying to—” Tyler dragged his gaze from the medal that was a painful reminder of his old life. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I mean I like living here. You don’t worry about the same stuff as most grown-ups.”
“I’m probably supposed to.” Tyler ran his hand over the back of his neck. “I have a new respect for your grandmother. How did Mom raise three boys without strangling us?”
“Grandma would never strangle anyone. She’s patient and kind.”
“Yeah, right. Unfortunately for you, I’m not, and I’m the one raising you now.” The reality of that still terrified him more than anything he’d faced on the downhill ski circuit. If he messed this up, the consequences would be worse than a damaged leg and a shattered career. “So have you finished your assignment?”
“No. I started, but I got distracted watching the recording of your downhill in Beaver Creek. Come and watch it with me.”
He’d rather poke himself in the eye with a ski pole.
“Maybe later. I had a call from your teacher.” Casually, he changed the subject. “You didn’t hand in your assignment on Monday.”
“Luna ate it.”
“Sure she did. You are allowed one late assignment in each trimester. You’ve already had two.”
“Weren’t you ever late handing in assignments?”
All the time.
Wondering why anyone would choose to have more than one kid when being a parent was this hard, Tyler tried a different approach. “If you have five late assignments, you’ll be staying late at homework club. That cuts into your skiing time.”
That wiped the smile from her face. “I’ll get it done.”
“Good decision. And next time, finish your homework before you watch TV.”
“I wasn’t watching TV. I was watching you. I want to understand your technique. You were the best. I’m going to ski every spare minute this winter.” She closed her hand around the medal, making it sound like a vow. “Will you be at race training tomorrow? You said you’d try to be there.”
Floored by that undiluted adoration, Tyler looked into his daughter’s eyes and saw the same passion that burned in his own.
He thought of all the jobs that were piling up at Snow Crystal. Jobs that needed his attention. Then he thought about the years he’d missed out on being with his daughter. “I’ll be there.” He strolled through to his recently renovated kitchen, cursing under his breath as cold seeped through his socks. “Jess, you’ve been dripping snow through the whole house. It’s like wading through a river.”
“That was Luna. She rolled in a snowdrift and then shook herself.”
“Next time she can shake herself outside our house.”
“I didn’t want her to get cold.” Watching him, Jess pushed her hair behind her ear. “You called it our house.”
“She’s a dog, Jess! She has thick fur. She doesn’t get cold. And of course I called it our house. What else would I call it? We both live here, and right now there’s no chance of me forgetting that!” He stepped over another patch of water. “I’ve spent the past couple of years renovating this place, and I still feel as if I need to wear my boots indoors.”
“I love Ash and Luna. They’re family. I never had a dog in Chicago. Mom hated mess. We never had a real Christmas tree, either. She hated those because she had to pick up the needles.”
Tension and irritation fled. The mention of Jess’s mother made Tyler feel as if someone had stuffed snow down his neck. Suddenly, it wasn’t only his feet that were cold.
He clamped his mouth down on the comment that wanted to leave his lips. The truth was that Janet Carpenter had hated just about everything. She’d hated Vermont, she’d hated living so far from a city, she’d hated skiing. Most of all, she’d hated him. But his family had made it a rule not to say a bad word about Janet in front of Jess, and he stuck to that rule even when the strain of it brought him close to bursting. “We’ll have a real tree this year. We’ll take a trip into the forest and choose one together.” Aware that he might be overcompensating, he reverted back to his normal self. “And I’m glad you love the dogs, but that doesn’t change the fact you should keep the damn living room door closed when they’re in the house. This place is no longer a construction site. The new rule is no dogs on sofas or on beds.”
“I think Luna prefers the old rules.” Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “And you’re not supposed to say damn. Grams hates it when you swear.”
Tyler kept his jaw tightened. “Well, Grams isn’t here, is she?” His grandmother and grandfather still lived at the resort, in the converted sugarhouse that had once been the hub of Snow Crystal’s maple syrup production. “And if you tell her, I’ll throw you on your butt in the snow, and you’ll be wetter than Luna. Now go and finish your assignment or I’ll get the bad parent award, and I’m not prepared to climb onto the podium to collect that one.”
Jess beamed. “If I promise to hand in my assignment and not tell anyone you swear, can we watch skiing together in your den later?”
“You should ask Brenna. She’s a gifted teacher.” He was about to reach for a beer when he remembered he was supposed to be setting an example, so poured himself a glass of milk instead. Since Jess had moved in, he’d disciplined himself not to drink from the carton. “She’ll tell you what everyone is doing wrong.”
“She’s already promised to help me now I’ve made the school ski team. Have you seen her in the gym? She has sick abs.”
“Yeah,