Book 11: Unexpected Gift

Misty

We finish dinner and eat Mom’s burnt Solstice cake. The kids get tucked into bed upstairs, and for a while, the adults sit out on the covered deck, sipping wine–except for me and Aviva (we were given hot chocolate) and pouring drams of Grandpa’s best and favorite whiskey. I listen to stories about my grandparents that I’d never heard before and lean my weight against Cole, his arms wrapped around me, warming me against the chill of the rain and brisk ocean air. 

It’s after midnight when we finally go to bed, falling into the covers, curling up nose to nose. 

“Mom got you a stocking,” I tell him in a whisper. “Watching us open them is her favorite part of the whole day, so act really surprised and excited about it, okay?”

He runs his fingers through my hair. “I will.”

I want to ask about his mom and sister but their whereabouts, and the status of his relationship with them–whether they know what he had to do to his own fa