The Christmas Proof: Chapter 3

I’m off today. I wake up and start my morning in a familiar and anticlimactic fashion. Shower, slip into another onesie (a fox this time), text Tory a meme, make tea, read. I usually don’t get hungry until around lunchtime, so the tea is enough of a “breakfast” for my body. I decide to start another book that I’ve been wanting to read by an author other than Reave because there’s no way I’m going to be able to concentrate otherwise.

Dad calls to give me an update on the trip, and it sounds like they’re both having a fantastic time. I’m glad I was able to contribute in some small way by housesitting. I tell him about Reave being in town, and he brings Mom to the phone so we can all freak out about it. I leave out all the flirty stuff, of course. But they are as excited as I am at the prospect that I might see him a few more times before I’m no longer in Big Canoe for most of the year as an Atlanta transplant.

After our call, I do a little tidying up. As I’m finishing sweeping the porch, I realize that I never brought my Santa Cheese in. I’d been too excited about talking to Tory. Sitting the broom inside the front door, I go and grab the IGA bag, the cheese still chilled from being out in the cold all night, and make my way up the porch steps. Behind me, I can hear the sound of a car making its way past our house, headed to the last cabin on this street, meaning…