Don't Promise (Don't 3)

“Like what? We were ready to go. You wrapped everything up at work. Is it Aiden? Did he do something?”

Cole and his young uncle had recently finalized a real estate deal. The motel Cole had inherited was going to be converted into condo units. Aiden was funding the renovations and Cole and I were responsible for the design, marketing, and day-to-day operations. It cost Aiden over a million dollars, but in the end, it was a fair deal. Both men got something they wanted. Over Christmas construction was on hold. Cole didn’t need to be at work.

“No, it’s not Aiden. He’s actually headed your way to see Mary Ellen.”

“I know. She can’t stop talking about him.”

“I’m packed. Grayson’s packed. I just want to make sure he’s ready for the trip. That’s all I meant to say.”

“Oh. Ok.”

“I’ll try the airline again. I’ll call you this afternoon.”

I twisted my lips together. “I’m worried you aren’t going to be here for Christmas.”

“Hey, I’ll be there.”

I nodded. “Ok.”

“Go hang out with your parents. Do the Sinclaire thing you do.”

I laughed. “You make us sound like the Griswolds.”

“You’re the one who said it.”

“Give Grayson a kiss for me.”

“Bye, darlin’.”

He hung up and I let out a big breath. I threw the covers off my legs. I trudged to the bathroom to brush my teeth and start the shower.

I stepped into the steamy shower and lathered my hair. I rinsed the shampoo and conditioner from my hair and reached for a towel.

I walked into the kitchen, my wet hair wrapped in a towel.

“Good morning, pumpkin.” My father sat at the table with the newspaper spread between his arms.

“Good morning, Dad.” I padded over to the coffee pot. “Where’s Mom?”

I limited myself to half a cup a morning. My doctor told me it was perfectly fine to have a full cup, but I couldn’t help but be extra cautious. I always thought I’d be one of those pregnant women who would embrace the changes in my body with confidence, but I wasn’t. Every little thing made me nervous. I worried. I was scared. I wanted to make the right decisions. Do the perfect thing.

“Oh she ran to the store for a minute. She said she was low on flour and sugar and she is going to bake something today. She’s worried with the snow rolling in she won’t get back out.”

“I thought cookie day wasn’t until Tuesday.” Of course every day leading up to Christmas was full of holiday goodies, but the schedule my mother put us on was overboard.

“Funny, funny. You know how she is. She wants you to have all your favorites while you’re here.”

“That’s sweet of her, but she doesn’t have to go to extra trouble. I’m fine with what she has already made.” I had seen the pantry—it was fully stocked with every sprinkle, type of sugar, and flour known to a baker. I couldn’t imagine what else she needed to buy.

My dad turned in his chair to face me. “Kaitlyn, it’s not trouble. We both realize we don’t know how many Christmases we’ll have with you at home. She wants everything to be perfect for this one.”

I stopped in mid-stir. The sugar probably sank to the bottom of my mug. “It’s not my last Christmas, Dad.”

“When you have children you’ll know what I’m talking about. It’s not the last one, but they are all going to be different now. You have someone in your life and at some point you’ll have a family and if you stay in Texas you’re not going to drag everyone up here every year. We know how it works. We did the same thing. Just ask my parents.”

I swallowed hard. I fought the instinct to pat the growing baby bump. I did know what he was talking about. I knew things were going to be different.

I sat across from him, his words heavy like the gray clouds outside sinking around me. I just wasn’t ready to give up on the family I already had. The traditions we had built.