Season's Greetings : Christmas Box Set

“Why do you even care?” She throws her hands up in the air, revealing a sliver of flesh. “You don’t know me. If you’re worried I’m going to try to file a claim, I won’t be. So, you can ditch the nice guy act.”

“That is not what this is about.” I step forward.

She shrinks back, and I’m painfully aware of how I must look standing over her. There are times my size is more of a hindrance than an advantage. I hold my hands up in mock surrender. “Caring what happens to you isn’t an act. I don’t waste my time pretending or doing things I don’t want to. A good friend of mine wiped out badly while we were skiing. It’s par for the course on the mountain, so we didn’t think much of it.” I pause. Her flaring nostrils belay her anger. I don’t have long before she cuts me off. How can a woman look so damn stunning when she’s this upset? “Turns out he had a severe concussion. By the time he started manifesting symptoms and we took him to the hospital, it was too late. He lapsed into a coma.”

“Oh my God.” Her eyes widen.

“It was a brief, eighteen hours of pure hell. Today he’s fine, but it could have just as quickly gone the other way. I won’t forget that. I could never let that happen to you. So, you can argue with me all you want. I’m not changing my mind. Not knowing what I do,” I perch on the bed, facing her, and slowly take her hands in mine, “I understand your hesitation. I don’t expect you to go into this blindly. We can even stay with my Nona if you prefer.”

Grandma got run over by a reindeer, walking home from our house Christmas Eve.

“What?” Romy snickers.

The tips of my ears grow hot. “That’s Nona. She’s been worried, so I should take this.

“Hey, Nona,” I say sheepishly, rubbing the back of my neck as Romy watches me.

“How is she?”

“Mild concussion. I’m standing next to her.”

“I figured, since you’re not in the waiting room.”

“Wait. You’re here?”

Romy sits up straight.

“I brought her purse and keys. Can’t get far without those.”

“She brought your purse.”

Her expression softens. I’m not above using Nona to get my way.

“Jesus. I completely forgot about that.” She shakes her head and groans.

I narrow my gaze. “Romy.”

She seems to pale. I grip her arm lightly. “You okay?”

“What’s going on?” Nona asks.

“Sorry, trying to convince Romy I’m not a serial killer, and I can take of her.”

“She can’t be alone right now. You put that little lady on the phone.”

Grinning, I hold the phone out to her.

‘What?’ she mouths.

“She wants to talk to you.”

She shakes her head, and I nod. “Did you sic your grandmother on me?” she hisses.

“Whatever it takes.”

I watch unrepentantly amused as Nona wears her down. The women in my family are diminutive in size only. My mother barely tops five feet, two inches, and I still fear her.

“No, ma’am, I wouldn’t feel right intruding on you and your husband during the holiday season. ... I’m sure he is. ... Uh-huh.” She shoots daggers at me with her eyes. “I’m sure we can work it out for a day. You don’t have to move my car. ... Yes, I suppose a change of clothes would be nice for him.” Her shoulders slump, and she gives me an exasperated look. “We’ll see you soon.” She hands me the phone. “I see stubbornness runs in your family.”