Unexpected Gift Page 7

  Mom bends down holding out a beautifully wrapped gift with a bow on top calling Grace’s name. She beelines from Ivy’s hold not even giving me a chance to give her kisses. Mom instructs her to pull a name out of the box. She does with gusto. Ironically enough, the first two names are mine and Roan’s placing us on a team. Then it goes Brad and Ivy. I don’t even try to stifle my laughter over Jake’s pissed off stance. Jake ends up with Grey who decided to join us today and then, of course, Mom and Dad are on the same team.

  I have no idea how my parents rig up the drawing of teams every single year, but they do. I don’t question it.

  Dad ushers us out to the yard with his stern voice in place. “Okay, you’ve been assigned to a designated area with a pile of snow. You may only use the snow from your area.”

  Sure as shit there are large squares painted in bright red and green spray paint lining out each section. Dad assigns each of us our spots. Grace races through each area squealing with delight. We all go to our area and wait for Dad to blow the whistle. In three, two, one shit is about to get intense.

  I have big shoes to fill if I’m ever going to live up to my mom’s reputation. I rip the lid from our box examining the items. They’re unique as hell with no sight of a carrot, rocks, or buttons. Nope, there’s lace, ribbon, a Christmas stocking, stop sign, confetti, and among other shit.

  “You build the snowballs and I’ll plan,” I shout over my shoulder.

  Roan nods. I don’t pay him any other attention as I dig through the box. Grace shoves her way in digging for things. She ends up tangled in tinsel while I put together a master game plan. I know better than to eye Mom and what she’s doing. I’ve done that many times and failed.

  I bend over grabbing the last items from the box and of course there’s chaos in the background but I ignore it. That’s what you learn to do when you have twin brothers like Jake and Brad.

  “No way he’ll do it.” Is the last thing I hear.

  Before I have the chance to stand up and see what in the hell is going on I hear a pop and then a stinging sensation on my ass. I yip and stand straight up grasping my ass cheeks whirling around to see Roan with his chest puffed out proud.

  “And I told you I could,” he replies to Jake whose tipping back a beer bottle.

  Grey has a bottle of Jack in his hand and mentally I chalk them out as competitors. However, I have a bit of my dad in me and don’t take to losing very well. I’m not talking about the snowman competition either. I go back to the box of decorations making no show about being nailed in the ass by a snowball.

  Grace gets bored with our treasures throwing herself down in the snow making snow angels. I sort my items all the while making a little nice pile of snowballs. Since I didn’t react Jake, Grey, and Roan took their attention elsewhere. I’m proud to say Roan is busy rolling out three good-looking snowballs that will make the perfect snowman.

  I continue on minding my own business until I hear the perfect moment to attack. Once everyone is busy and Grace is out of the way to get nailed by one of my snowballs.

  “Babe, you ready yet? I’ve got ours built.”

  I don’t turn when I hear Roan’s voice. I grab three snowballs two in one hand and one in the other and turn on my own teammate. I cock my arm back before he has any idea what is going on. I throw as hard as I can missing him on the first shot, but nailing him on the last two.

  I have just enough time to snag three more snowballs and they hit dead bullseyes. Once Roan catches on he’s being ambushed the snowball war amps up. He doesn’t need time to form his snowballs. Nope, he bends down scooping them up in his hands and tossing them my direction as fast as they can.

  I know when I’m on the losing side and go another route. I close the distance deciding on a jump attack. Roan suckers in walking closer to me. I pounce trying to take him down to the snow. Wrong move. He sees it coming and has me pinned down to the powdery snow in seconds. He straddles my middle holding a ball of snow above me threatening to whitewash my face.

  “No. No. Don’t you dare Roan Donald McDaniels.” I wiggle the best I can underneath him.

  Wrong mistake. Actually, it’s the worse kind I can make. He loathes his middle name and I can’t blame him it’s a horrendous combination. His parents see it otherwise, they view it as prestigious.

  I snap my eyes shut before the freezing snow smears on my face. I fight harder to get him off of him, but it doesn’t help. Grace’s tiny voice comes squealing in to save the day catching Roan’s attention. He freezes looking to his side. Grace is his kryptonite. There’s no way he’d ever put in the tiniest glimpse of harm even if that meant two adults horse playing. He’s shown that over and over again from Santa’s workshop to plucking her from Jake and Brad’s arm wrestling tournament even though it was safe.

  “No! No!” She points her tiny finger at Roan.

  It’s a low blow, cheap shot, but I take it flipping him over opposite of Grace. I urge her on to help me. At some point, our perfect constructed snowman tumbles down as Roan lets Grace and I cover him in snow. We don’t stop our playful banter until a shrilling whistle sounds. It breaks apart the three of us. Roan does his best to brush the snow from Grace then me. The fact is we are a wet mess. But a damn happy one.

  Roan brushes away the chunk of snow from my cheekbone then lays a searing kiss on my lips. My thick mitten glide against the stubble relishing the last moment of the kiss.

  “Okay, times up. Step out of your painted line.”

  We follow Dad’s instructions. I take a moment to survey our surroundings. Mom has outdone herself with a boho replication of a snowman. She planned everything down to the tee. It’s a masterpiece. You wouldn’t even notice the stop sign perched on its side. It all fits together. Ivy and Brad might just rival Mom this year. Ivy pulled out all of the stops even with intricate hair made from twigs which makes Brad’s clarification crystal clear when he asked if natural elements were legal. Dad will still find a way to win.

  Our snowman is nonexistent in a crumbled mess. Jake and Grey’s, I’ll admit would beat ours even though they broke every single rule. They didn’t use any of the items from the box. Their snowman itself is damn impressive. They used their fingers to punch holes in the towering snow for eyes, two pebbles for nipples, and then an empty beer bottle for what I’d guess is a dick. It doesn’t end there because their snowman has two nuts which are frozen acorns.

  Dad packs Grace around to each one having her choose her favorite. Of course, she’s my girl and loves our snowman the best. I know it’s because of the people she’s pointing to and not the piece of art. She doesn’t give Jake and Grey much attention even though they get a big chuckle out of their work. Dad not so much, but I don’t miss the smirk on his face.

  Ivy suckers her in hard. If I was a betting woman, I’d put all my poker chips on her snowman. It’s not until Mom fires up the lights on her snowman placing the perfect finishing touches. Grace swoons wiggling out of Dad’s arms and walking up to the piece of art in awe.

  “We have a clear winner,” Dad announces.

  “You cheated, Mom, this is clear-cut bullshit,” Brad announces.

  “No. It’s not.”

  “Yes, it is. Mom you cheat every year. What’s excuse this time? There was no damn lights in your basket!” Brad heads over to her snowman clearly protecting his own.

  “It was a wrapped box, son. And the tinsel has solar powered lights if you would’ve found the button.” Mom’s victorious smirk is undeniable.

  She’s the only shit that would know the tinsel would light up since she purchased all of the items, but not one of us protest.

  “Huddle around for picture time,” Dad hollers from his place by the tripod as he lowers his glasses to figure out the self-timer.

  Once he starts sprinting for the crowd of us we know it’s on because if Mom doesn’t get her annual picture it will be hell for all of us. We learned that lesson one year. It took one time for us kids getting socks and underwear for Chr
istmas when we refused the picture.

  We all smile bright cuddling up next to each other and holler cheese when the camera warns us it’s about to take the pic. Snowman Big Dick Richie proudly in the background.

  Chapter 10

  There’s no mistaking the cheer in the air. It’s Christmas Eve. Grace is bouncing between Roan and I. He doesn’t grumble or throw a fit about a toddler busting in on us sleeping. Nope, he does the exact opposite cuddling her right into our sides. It’s the perfect picture ideal scene and Grace absorbs it all in.

  “What do you want for Christmas?” Roan taps Grace’s nose.

  “Mmmmm.” She taps her chin. “A pony named Bella.”

  I roll my eyes and bite down on my lip. She’s been asking for the same thing for months now. There’s no way I can keep up with the inn, her, Ivy, my brothers, and a damn pony. I listen every time she asks and then brush it off by distracting her.

  “A pony. Man, have you been good. You know Santa has been watching and checking his list.” Roan brushes her hair out of Grace’s face.

  This only ignites her into singing a Christmas song which is a version of her own. It doesn’t matter that Roan can’t make out her words. He picks up on the song and hums the tune.

  The rest of the morning happens in a rush as we get our gang out the door to the local soup kitchen. Cringle Cove may come across as a high resort town, but there’s plenty in need.

  “I ride wif you, Oan.” Grace clasps her tiny hands over chest. “Pease!”

  “You got it, baby girl.”

  “I’m not a baby.” She puts on her best mean face and slaps at Roan.

  “My bad. You got it, big girl.”

  And just like that everything is right in the world. Roan grabs Grace’s booster and makes sure it’s strapped in properly. I don’t even want to know how he knows this. I stand back watching my two worlds collide. They crash so hard I don’t know where I begin and end.

  Roan comes to my side brushing away my worry with his gentle touch. “I searched this shit up on YouTube knowing damn well she’d ride with me one day and before you start judging me based on my knowledge from YouTube, I watched twenty damn videos, Poppy.”

  “When?” The one-word question ghosts from my lips.

  “When I was watching you sleep.”

  With that he shoves me into the cab of the truck. I don’t mind sharing the middle seat with my daughter. Any other strong, independent woman I’d be clawing their eyes out. It’s how I roll.

  I listen to the two of them chatter about ponies and princesses on the entire drive. When we hit the soup kitchen Grace is out and ready to attack the job ahead. Her zest for life is like no other I’ve ever seen. I don’t want to see that light ever diminish.

  Grace runs off with my dad and Roan lets it all go.

  “You do realize all that shit you’ve been baking all week is going to others, right?”

  I smirk and nod. “I sure do.”

  Roan whips his ball cap off and rakes his hand through his hair. “And that doesn’t bother you with all of the stress you have on your plate?”

  I’m not sure what’s building up the tension in his heart, but what I do know is that I want to soothe it away anyway I can.

  “Hey.” I wrap my arms low around his waist. “I don’t have much to give back to the community. My way of doing it is by baking and it makes me feel good to do so.”

  Something in him relaxes. I don’t have time to question him as we are swept into the crowd of people preparing the Christmas feast. It’s great to see so many familiar faces here ranging from friends, family, and complete strangers. It’s magic as we all come together to give back. Watching Roan with his sleeves rolled back peeling potatoes is quite the sight. His phone has still been going off non-stop, but he hasn’t been answering it. When we're about to leave I watch him turn it off and shove it in his back pocket.

  My hands are emerged in a sink of hot soapy water as I clean the last pile of dirty pots and pans that were assigned to me. My stomach growls with the smell of the food. I guess staying in bed enjoying Roan and Grace’s company wasn’t the smartest idea since I was only able to grab a chocolate chip muffin on the way out the door. I guess a little hunger pain was worth it.

  My heart drums in my chest when I hear Grace’s piercing cry. It’s one of those where you know something is wrong. I dart out of the kitchen scanning the room looking for her. There’s a group of people huddled around something. Her cry pitches to a deafening sound.

  “Move,” Roan roars, standing up with her in his arms.

  I race over to them. “Roan, what happened?”

  My skin chills and knees go weak when a sea of crimson blood comes into view. It’s all over Roan’s shirt and covering her face. There’s so much it throttles me into a panicked state. Her cries grow louder making my head spin. It’s a mom’s worst nightmare and I freeze unable to think or help her.

  “Come on. I’ll drive Mom’s car.” Jake wraps his arm around my shoulders.

  Somehow I end up in back seat of Mom’s SUV behind Roan who has Grace on his lap in the passenger seat and a rag placed on Grace’s forehead.

  “Mommy.” She raises her hands up.

  It’s her innocent loving voice that snaps me out of it. I perch up on my knees leaning over her letting Roan continue to hold her. I have no idea what happened and don’t want to move her.

  “I’m here, baby girl.” I brush her cheek. “I’m here.”

  A sob hiccups out of her chest. “Owie.”

  Her bottom lip pops out and her cries begin again. My tears flow right along with hers. I’d give anything to take away her pain. It’s tearing me apart watching her.

  “Mom, what do I do?” I glance up to the passenger seat.

  She twists in her seat reaching her hand back to clutch mine. “We’re almost there.”

  Her cries grow louder. Roan begins to rock her back and forth singing one of his songs lightly to her. I continue to brush her cheek and sing the song with Roan. Our voices do the trick bringing her cries down to low sobs. A tear drops down on my hand and when I look up it’s Roan’s slipping from his face.

  As we pull into the ER parking lot, her long lashes begin to flutter shut. Roan doesn’t stop singing to her as he races into the hospital keeping Grace clutched to his chest. I’m right behind him and when a nurse spots us and the blood covering us she ushers us right into a room.

  “What happened?” I plead again, as Roan settles Grace into my arms once I’m up on the exam table.

  Roan steps back leaning on the wall staring down at his boots ignoring me completely. Mom goes to his side.

  “It wasn’t your fault, Roan, so let’s just get that out of your head.” She squeezes his middle.

  I peer down to Grace who I’m endlessly rocking back and forth. She’s on the brink of slumber. I’m guessing it’s from what her little body just went through. A crying fit can really take a toll on a little body.

  Mom continues on, “Grace was just being a kid plain and simple. We’ve been lucky since she’s always been such a little acrobatic monkey. She was helping Roan and I put out place settings and climbed up on a chair. Her foot slipped off the chair, her head hit the corner of the table.”

  “She was right by my side,” Roan adds.

  “And so was Poppy when she was four and put her hand on a burner. Jake was in my lap when he was two and decided to leap out of it and knock himself out on the coffee table.”

  Relief washes over me. A monsoon of emotion just wiped out my world and now I’m standing here thankful and shaken up. “There’s so much blood, Mom.”

  She lets go of Roan and comes to my side. “It’s a head wound. They bleed the worse. I’m guessing a few stitches and she’ll be just fine.”

  A doctor walks in. Most of it’s a blur until the stitching part comes out. I grow sick when he tells me how he’s going to numb the area. Grace is awake and not having any of it. More tears roll down my face than hers. This is pu
re hell.

  “Oan.” She screams throwing her arms out in his direction.

  He moves and has her in his arms. He keeps her to his chest cradling her head to his shoulder with the cut on the doctor’s side. He begins singing to her easing her crying and somehow the doctor is able to numb the area. I rub her back thankful she’s calmed down.

  “She’s sleeping,” the doctor whispers, as he stitches the wound shut. “Her little body is exhausted from the trauma of it. This is very typical. She’ll more than likely sleep the rest of the day. The area will be a bit tender. I’ll recommend children's Tylenol, lots of fluid, and of course unwrapping presents.”

  “Thank you,” I reply as I process everything. “I have Tylenol at home.”

  “There will be no need to come back in to get the stitches removed. They will dissolve on their own.” The doctor continues to tell me things to watch for.

  The car is silent on the way home. Roan keeps Grace clutched to his chest as Jake drives with extra caution back to the B & B.

  “I’m so sorry, Grace, I’m so sorry.” He kisses the top of my head and squeezes my hand in his.

  “It was an accident,” I whisper. “And probably not the last with this one.”

  Exhaustion settles over me once we manage to get Grace into some clean clothes and tucked in the middle of my bed. It’s only noon and I find myself kicking off my boots and slipping into the bed right next to her.

  Roan leans over placing a soft kiss on her forehead and goes to stand back up. My arm shoots out grabbing his hand. “Stay, please.”

  He scrubs his face with his free hand. “I feel so awful.”

  “I do too. I’m pretty sure it will never feel good.” I tug his hand encouraging him to climb in the bed with us. “It’s the ugly part of parenting. It’s not an easy job.”