“Hello, my Katy,” he murmured. “I was just asking our daughter why she looked so tired.”
My mom rolled her eyes. “Because she’s in her twenties, burning the candle at both ends, VanRyan. Exactly the way you used to before you got old and soft.”
“I’ll show you soft later, woman,” he growled.
I laughed. “Ew. Enough, you two. I’m tired because I’ve been working and studying hard. And frankly, this case keeps my mind engaged even at night, so I haven’t been sleeping as well as usual. I plan on a nice nap this afternoon. No work.”
My mom’s eyes lit up. “Have a soak in the tub. Try those lavender salts I sent you. You’ll sleep like a baby.”
“Talk about false advertising,” Dad snorted. “Babies hate sleep. They’re up all the time. What they should say is you’ll sleep like a parent of a six-month-old who’s had colic and has been taken out of the house by a helpful grandparent.”
Both Mom and I spoke up. “Not as catchy.” Then we all laughed. Dad had said that line a thousand times.
“Try them,” she urged.
I couldn’t tell her having a bath would remind me of earlier this weekend when I was soaking in that massive tub with Jaxson. Being held by his strong arms. Feeling completely happy to be alone with him and enjoying the quiet. I wasn’t able to tell her the real reason for my stress. I couldn’t tell anyone.
“I will,” I promised.
Mom asked a few more questions, and we chatted about the wedding and the fact that I would see them soon. “I’m looking forward to Christmas,” she exclaimed. “The girls and I have so much planned!”
I smiled at her excitement. We were part of a huge extended family, and we spent most of our Christmases in Port Albany. Mom and all the BAM wives spent weeks cooking, baking, and decorating every year, and every year it was wonderful. This year would be doubly crazy with the wedding. “Me too,” I said.
“Will you have time off?”
“Yes. I had explained to the partners about the wedding when they interviewed me, so I have the vacation time I’m allowed booked already. I’ll come down before the wedding and stay until after New Year’s.”
“Wonderful. We arrive the week before.” Mom stood. “We’ll see you soon, dearest girl. I love you.”
“Love you too.”
Dad watched her walk away with a small grin on his face, then he turned back to the screen. He leaned close, resting his arms on the table. “If you need anything, baby girl, I’m right here.”
“I know, Dad.”
“I mean it, Gracie. I know life is crazy for you, but I don’t like to see you so worn-out. Anything you need, I’m right here. Or I can be there in a few hours. You just say the word.”
Unexpected tears filled my eyes. My emotions were raw today after the ups and downs of the weekend with Jaxson, and the niggle of worry I was feeling deep in my stomach.
“Gracie?” Dad sounded shocked. “Are you crying?”
I wiped my eyes. “You caught me off guard, Dad. I’m so grateful to have you in my corner.”
“I always will be.”
“I know,” I sniffed. “I love you.”
His voice became quiet. “I love you, Gracie-girl. You’re my little miracle, and you always will be.” He met my eyes, the distance between us fading away. “You’re sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine. It’s the case, the wedding, and Christmas. You know how I get.”
He chuckled. “Tenderhearted like your mom. She saw a Hallmark commercial the other day, and I found her in the pantry, weeping.”
“Yep. Just like her.”
“Okay. I’ll drop it. But I’m here.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
There was a quiet knock on my door around six, startling me. Before I could get up from my chair, I heard the sound of a key being turned, and Jaxson’s face peered around the edge of the open door.
“Hey,” he greeted, his eyes wary. “Can I come in?”
“Of course.”
He slipped in, shutting the door behind him. He had a brown bag in one hand, which he held up.
“Have you eaten?”
“No.”
He shrugged off his coat and kicked off his shoes. He was wearing my favorite Henley—the blue setting off his eyes. He placed the bag on the table and crossed the room, bending down and meeting my eyes as he braced his arms on the chair.
“I wondered if I’d find you in your spot. Curled up and reading.” He smiled, although it didn’t reach his eyes. “When I think of you, it’s often of you sitting right here, looking like this.”
“Like this?” I asked lightly.
“Content and happy, a book on your lap, a cup of tea beside you. You always drink tea when reading, never coffee.”
“They drink tea in historicals more than coffee. I’m keeping in the mood.”
He pressed his lips to my forehead. “Well, break out of the mood for a bit and eat noodles with me. I went to Rocking Ramen.”