“Now that we’ve discussed how I got chickenpox in high school, I think I’ll take my son and my girlfriend—if she doesn’t leave me because of my inappropriate family—home.” He gives me a look with a silent smile, letting me know he doesn’t think I’ll actually leave him. At least not for something like this.
“Actually, you didn’t really say how you got them,” Gabby says, her tiny little devil horns popping up from her head, making me grin from ear to ear. Chase laughs.
It wouldn’t take much imagination to guess how he got chickenpox in high school.
“And we’re not going to,” Colton says as he heads over to retrieve the diaper bag.
“Next time,” Harrison adds, glancing down at his daughter. “We’re out too. This one needs a bath and a bottle.”
“Oh, Harrison, I made you up a little to-go bag. I had some extra chocolate chip cookies, so I threw those in there too,” Connie says, heading over to the counter and grabbing the grocery sack.
“What the hell?” Chase says, glancing at his brother.
“Seriously? You’re sending all the cookies with Harrison? He’s not even a son,” Colton argues.
Connie just rolls her eyes. “I have some for you two as well.”
“But we all know who her favorite is,” Harrison says, heading over to give Connie a hug. “Thanks, Mama Callahan.”
“You’re welcome, my boy.”
I can see the love between them, and it pings my heart with sadness. I was close to Tina’s mom too. Often, I’d be invited over to their house for dinners or celebrations. After my own Mom moved away, and Grandma was put in the nursing home, her family sort of became my family. I’ve missed Tina these last few weeks, but now I’m missing her little family too. They weren’t as big and loud as the Callahans, but it was nice to belong.
We all say goodbye, and I help get Milo situated in his seat. We throw the blanket over his head and make our way to Colton’s truck, the cold winds blowing in more snow.
“Oh, Colt, we’re having Christmas dinner here. Will that work for you and Hollis?” Connie asks from the front porch.
He glances my way, and if he notices the tears swimming in my eyes, he doesn’t say anything. “Will that work for you?” he whispers, squeezing my hand in comfort.
“Yeah,” I croak over the lump in my throat. “That would be fine.”
“Sounds good, Mom. Just text me what you want us to bring,” Colton says as he leads me the rest of the way to his truck.
Inside, the cab is already warm as I slip inside and rub my hands on my jeans. After Colton gets the car seat secured, he jumps in the driver’s seat and glances my way. “You okay?”
I nod instantly. “Yeah.”
“I know my family can be a lot. If you’re not ready for something like Christmas—” he starts, but I cut him off.
“No, it’s not that. I’m honored they’d invite me along,” I assure him.
“Well, you’re part of the family now,” he whispers, bringing my hand to his mouth and running his lips over my knuckles. “They want you here, but if it’s too much, too soon for you, all you have to do is say so.”
“It’s not, Colt, I swear.” I take a deep breath. “It just reminds me of Tina and her parents. She has an older brother too, who wasn’t always at dinners, but they usually tried to include me after my mom moved to Florida. Tonight just made me miss them a little more.”
He gazes at me from across the seat, his eyes full of compassion and understanding. “Have you talked to Tina much?”
I nod. “We text all the time.”
“But it’s not the same,” he concludes.
“No,” I whisper, hating the emotions that are suddenly bubbling up, as if from out of nowhere.
“I can’t replace your best friend, sweetheart, but I’m here for you. My family too,” he tells me as he pulls me across the console and wraps his arms around my neck. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” I whisper, absorbing all his heat and support as I cling around his neck. “Thank you.”
He kisses me on the forehead again as Milo lets out a holler, letting us know he’s not happy to just be sitting here. Colton straightens and buckles up. “You don’t ever have to thank me for loving you, Hollis. Ever. That’s the easiest thing in the world to do.”
And with that, he backs out of his parents’ driveway and heads for home.
With Christmas in a week, I start to panic. I’ve completed a handful of jobs in the last few weeks, including All Fit’s website and branding package, as well as other site designs and restructures. My bank account is comfortable, which is why I’m heading out today to go Christmas shopping. I’ve already sent Tina a package, but still have Mom and Grandma to take care of, as well as Milo, Colton, and a hostess gift for his parents, Connie and Wes.
I got this.
It’ll be fun, especially with my little sidekick, Milo, in tow.
“Are you sure you’ll be okay today? It’s supposed to snow again later,” Colton says as he fills up his water bottle in the kitchen.
Milo’s on my hip, holding my hair, as he does most nights as he tries to fall asleep, babbling as if he’s in the conversation with his dad. “We’ll be fine. Won’t we, Milo?” I ask, bending down and raspberry kissing his chubby cheek.
“How about if you take my truck? I’ll drive your car to the gym,” he offers, drying his hands on a hand towel and tossing it on the counter.
I want to smile in return. If I’ve learned anything about Colton Callahan in the last month, it’s that he’s protective of his son, and me. “If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll take your truck.”
He nods and grabs my car keys off the counter, which are right beside his. After our discussion about what I saw in California, he made sure I have keys to all the doors, including the front one that he uses. He runs outside and starts my car so he can take it, letting it warm up. While the temperature isn’t consistent with what I imagine winter in the Midwest to be, it definitely has some very chilly mornings. One thing I’ve learned is that Mother Nature can be a little whacky. One day she’s fifty and beautiful, and the next twenty degrees and snowing.
It’s definitely taking some getting used to.
“The truck is ready when you’re ready,” he insists as he comes back inside and wraps his arms around me and Milo. When he got the garage ready, I insisted he park his truck in there. Not only is he the owner of the house, but it’s the usual vehicle to transport Milo. He argued up one side and down the other, but in the end, when I threw his son into the equation, he relented.
“Thank you,” I tell him, just as I lean up on my tiptoes and swipe my lips against his. He tastes like mint and coffee, and so very much like Colton. I’m not sure I’ll ever get enough.
“Are you sure you even need to leave today?” he asks. He’ll be gone most of the day. As Christmas approaches, the gym has been hopping as everyone gets all their sessions and classes in before the holidays. His self-defense classes have been sold out, and Harrison is considering adding another in the new year. I’m excited for him, but I know he’s torn. More time at the gym means more time away from Milo.
He still goes to Gwen’s, but only three days a week. Any other time, he’s home with me. I’m able to get a lot of work done on those three days, and then a little when I’m with Milo. But to be completely honest, I’d much rather spend my day with him on the floor, rolling over and sitting up, than working on my computer.
“Yes, Mr. Worry Wart. I have to finish my Christmas shopping. If I don’t get my gifts for Mom and Grandma in the mail ASAP, they won’t get there in time. Besides, the snow isn’t supposed to start until this afternoon. We’ll head out soon, get our shopping done, and be home before the first flake falls,” I reassure him.
Colton sighs. “Okay, but be careful. People are crazy this time of year. I don’t need you getting hurt over a toaster.”
“First off, that’s Black Friday that brings out the crazies. And second, I
wasn’t going to get you a toaster. I was thinking about a blender,” I tease, fighting to contain my smile.
Strong arms wrap around my torso as he pulls me against his chest. “A blender, huh? I do like to blend things.”
Milo bellows, before reaching up and smacking Colton in the face.
“Hey, little buddy, we don’t hit. No, no,” he tells his son sternly. Milo brings on the waterworks, ducking his head into my neck and holding on tight. “Awww,” Colton grumbles, reaching down and taking his son from my arms. Milo tries to hang on tight but is no match for his dad. “Listen, little man, I love you with all my heart, but you can’t hit. That’s not a good boy,” Colton instructs. Milo’s tear-filled eyes widen as he listens to his dad.
Milo leans into his chest and grabs his shirt.
“I’m Dada. Can you say Dada?” Colton asks, and I can hear the emotion in his voice.
The boy stares intently at his daddy’s lips and opens his mouth, like he’s mimicking Colton, but doesn’t make the right sound.
“I love you,” he adds as he hugs his son to his chest. When he pulls back, he looks down at Milo and says, “Now, you be a good boy for Hollis, okay? Make sure no boys mess with her.”
I know he means it goodheartedly, but I don’t miss the hint of worry in his voice too. Ever since I told him about California, he’s always very observant of our surroundings and watches me closely. Even though I haven’t received a message since that one he saw, Colton is always mindful of where I am and who’s nearby. His brother put him in contact with a police officer friend who helped him track down Laura when all that went down this summer, but so far, they’ve come up empty in finding who sent me those messages. Maybe since I haven’t received any lately, they’ve finally let it go.
Let me go.
“All right, I need to go, or I’ll be late for my first session,” Colton says, kissing his son on the forehead and handing him back to me.
“We’ll see you when you get home. I’ll have dinner ready,” I tell him, propping Milo on my hip and giving Colton a kiss.
“Love you,” he says, those blue eyes so full of conviction. He smiles down at his son and adds, “Love you too.”
“We love you more,” I tell him, taking Milo’s hand and waving it goodbye.
“I’ll be back soon!” he hollers before he slips out the door to head to work.
“Well, Mr. Milo, let’s get ready to go. We have tons of shopping to do today. I hope you’re ready,” I announce as I gather the diaper bag and snacks for our shopping excursion.
Thirty minutes later, I’m walking into the first department store. I’m armed with my list and the baby, as we set out to grab the few things I need. I’m able to find a gorgeous lightweight sweater for my mom, which will be perfect for those cooler Florida nights, as well as some fancy lotions and body sprays. I find an adorable little shirt and bowtie set for Milo, and a Henley shirt in a smoky gray for Colton.
Not very personal gifts, but it’s a start.
My next stop is a gourmet candy shop. I find some fresh salted caramels I know my mom will love and some sugar-free mint and chocolate drops for Grandma. They even have a large sampler box with a variety of sweet treats, which I grab for Colton’s mom and dad.
As we head down the corridor of the shopping center, Milo hollers from his stroller seat. When I pull over to the side of the walkway, I grab the bottle of formula. “Need a drink, little man?” I ask, crouching down in front of the stroller. He reaches for it, instantly shoving the cup in his mouth.
Standing back up, I glance in the window of the store I’m in front of. It’s a photography shop. Inside, I see a woman on her hands and knees, posing a newborn on a cloud of white fluff. The baby is naked, except for a blue ribbon wrapped around his abdomen. The sign on the ribbon reads, “Heaven sent.”
I glance around at the sample photos on the walls. Most are large portraits, beautifully framed, and displaying the photographer’s work. Two catch my eye right away. It’s a little girl posing on an All Fit T-shirt. I realize I’ve seen that photo before. At the gym. It’s little Sophia on her daddy’s shirt.
But the photo next to that one is the one I study now. It’s Milo, only a month old, and sleeping on an Army jacket. My heart clenches as it rises to my throat. I’ve seen this one too. It’s on Colton’s living room wall. The gift Gabby and Chase gave him when he moved in.
Suddenly, I know what I need to do.
I slip inside the studio, the photographer giving me a wide smile. “I’ll be with you in just a minute,” she says as she finishes snapping pictures of the sleeping angel on the cloud.
Milo and I have a seat in the sitting area. He’s anxious to get out of the stroller, so I unhook his belt and hold him on my lap. He’s super chatty, now that he’s had some juice, and is giving big cheesy grins.
“Oh, that’s the smile I want to catch,” the photographer says as she approaches. “How can I help you?”
“I don’t have an appointment,” I start. “I was hoping you had an appointment available this morning?”
“While I take appointments, I also love walk-ins, sweetie, so you’re next! Do you have a set in mind?” she asks, as she reaches her finger out, Milo grabbing on.
“Not really, but he’s the little one in that photo over there,” I say, pointing to the wall. “The one with the Army jacket.”
The photographer smiles widely. “I remember him. His daddy was away in the Army, right?”
I nod, that familiar lump in my throat returning. “He’s home now, but I’d love to get an updated version of Milo for his wall.”
She agrees. “Yes, I can picture it now. I still have the jacket too. Let me get the set ready. Give me two minutes,” she says as she turns, heading toward her studio. “I’m Helena, by the way.”
“Hollis,” I reply, following slowly as Helena removes the white cloud and the sky backdrop. She pulls a brown version down, stretching it out over the floor.
“How about you strip him down to his diaper? I think that’ll be a cute picture.” Helena goes to the clothing rack and pulls the Army jacket off the hanger. She pulls a small wooden crate from the stack and flips it over in the middle of the set. Then, she drapes the jacket over the crate, arranging it so it covers the wood and displays the branch of the military’s name across the floor.
“What do you think of this?” she asks.
“I love it,” I tell her, my heart galloping in my chest with excitement.
“Will he be able to sit on the crate? You can stay close,” she says.
“He should be okay. He’s practically a little monkey all of a sudden.”
When I set him down on the crate, his pudgy little legs on the floor, Helena brings over a helmet. “What do you think of this? I can set it on the floor, or it might be really cute if he’s wearing it.”
I can’t help but smile. “I’ll leave it up to you,” I say as the scene starts to come together perfectly.
“You hold it, and I’ll get my camera ready.” It only takes her a few seconds. Helena snaps a couple of pictures and checks the screen. “I’m ready to go.”
For the next ten minutes, she takes photo after photo of Milo. The little guy is all smiles as he looks at the funny lady making silly noises and faces at him. Tears fill my eyes as I watch, unable to hold in the emotion any longer. Unable to hide what this little boy and his dad mean to me.
“How about you stand behind him, Mommy? Kick off your socks and shoes first and slip back on his little blue jeans, but keep his shirt off. See if you can get him to stand up, holding onto your fingers,” she directs.
That’s when my heart basically explodes with love.
“Oh, I’m not….” But I can’t seem to get the rest of the words out.
Because in my mind, I want to be his mom.
I am his mom.
So I do as the photographer instructs. I stand behind him, my blue painted toes on display as I stand him up. Milo takes my fingers immediately, loo
ks up at me, and smiles. I hear the shutter snapping, but I don’t pay it any attention. My eyes are cast down on the little boy who owns my heart.
“I think we got some amazing pictures,” Helena says, setting her camera down beside her. “I’m assuming these are gifts?”
Picking up Milo, I nod.
“I’ll have them ready Christmas Eve. I’m offering a framing special too right now for the holidays. Frames are forty percent off with the purchase of photos. You can get him dressed and throw your shoes back on. I’ll pull these up on my computer so you can pick which ones you want.”
I spend the next fifteen minutes placing my order. I’ve never spent money on professional photos before, and I’m a little surprised at the price, but they’re worth it. I order an eleven by fourteen of the Army jacket photo for Colton. Milo’s holding the helmet on his head and smiling a big grin at the camera, his first two front teeth on full display. I order a bunch of smaller ones too to give to family, as well as an eight by ten for Connie and Wes.
Then, I look at the one of Milo and me. You can’t see my face in the photo, only my legs from just above my knees and my hands. I’m not the focal point of the picture, though. That’s Milo. He’s standing in front of me, his little Buddha belly on full display. He’s smiling, but not at the camera. This time, he’s looking up. He’s grinning at me. And even though you can’t see my face, I know I’m smiling down at him too.
That’s why I order it and have it framed.
For me.
To remind me of the love and adoration I have for this little boy, who clearly adores me too.
We finish up our shopping, stop in the food court for a quick bite to eat, which includes jarred sweet potatoes and Hawaiian delight for Milo, and head for home. The snow is falling, sooner than anticipated, so I take my time. Even in Colton’s truck, I drive a little under the speed limit, careful to slow to a stop at all intersections. When we pull into the driveway, I finally feel like I can breathe. I didn’t realize I was practically holding my breath and completely tense until I’m parked safely in the garage.
Fair Lakes Series Box Set Page 71