“If it hadn’t been for you, I would have had to ask one of my sisters and you know they can’t keep a secret to save their lives. Mom has been counting down the days until my discharge and I wanted to surprise them.”
“It’s an amazing early Christmas present. Your mom is going to flip her shit when she sees you.”
“Now, Noel,” he said in a high-pitched voice. “You know how I feel about you swearing like a sailor.”
She laughed. “Your poor mother tried her hardest to make a lady out of me. And it’s soldier, not sailor.”
“How could I forget.” Like Nick, Noel had served in the army right out of high school. She’d gone in six months after him and discharged after four years. She’d finished her nursing degree at Boise State, bringing all of her experience with her, and took a job at Mistletoe Memorial in the labor and delivery ward as a nurse.
“Let me get the door, since you’re packing that big-ass bag.”
Noel unlocked the front door with her key and pushed the door open. Nick stepped over the threshold behind her and the familiar scent of pine and cinnamon enveloped him. The house was dimly lit in morning light, revealing the white walls of the living room splattered with framed family photos. The plaid green-and-white sofas his mother loved were set against the walls with decorative blankets tossed over the backs. His dad’s brown leather recliner sat at an angle, looking just as beat up as he remembered. The long chestnut coffee table positioned in the middle of the furniture with a decorative centerpiece on top of rustic fall leaves, marking the changing of the seasons.
As they rounded the corner into the kitchen, a loud bay destroyed the peaceful quiet of his childhood home. The scuttle of nails on the wood floor echoed down the hall as Butch, his parents’ nine-year-old bloodhound, emerged at a lope. His big black ears flapped up and down as he raced toward them. His jowls, dripping with jellified drool, went up at the same time, giving the illusion he was flying.
Nick dropped his bag and kneeled. “Butch, my man.”
Butch launched all one hundred and sixty pounds of himself against Nick’s chest, knocking him back against the wall. Wet doggy kisses rained down all over his face and he wrapped his arms around the dog’s neck. Butch was barely a year when he’d left the first time, but he’d never forgotten Nick. Every leave, the big hound greeted him at the door with the same enthusiasm.
Laughing, Nick pushed Butch away and the dog turned his attention to Noel. Abruptly, the big hound buried his head in her crotch and she stumbled back with a gasp, cradling the dog’s head in her hands as she tried to remove him from the awkward location. Nick burst out laughing as Noel wrestled with the dog.
“Dammit, Butch! I hate when you do that.”
The dog pulled his head back and released another delighted bay. Then, he turned around and leaned his entire body against Noel so hard she hit the counter. Her hat fell off and landed on the floor.
“Ouch, crap.”
Nick chuckled. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, sure, the big klutz just broke my hip, but I’m good.”
The dog leaned his head back against her, exposing his neck and she obliged him by scratching his chest.
“You are a monster. Good thing you’re cute.”
“What in the blasted hell is going on out here?” a deep voice boomed.
The shape of a man stood in the hallway clad in a dark robe. He flipped on the kitchen light, blinking against the brightness.
Nick climbed to his feet with a smile. “Hey Pop.”
Christopher Winters’s craggy face broke out into a wide grin, his salt and pepper hair standing on end. “Nick! You said you’d be here after Thanksgiving!”
“I wanted to surprise you.”
“Well, you sure as hell did.” His dad held his arms wide. “Come here.”
Nick crossed the tile floor and flung his arms around him. His dad returned the hard hug, pounding his back. Although he now stood several inches taller than his father, Chris had a wider frame than his son. And a rounder stomach.
His father pulled back, patting Nick’s shoulders. “Well, take off your coat and sit a spell. You hungry? We’ve got bacon, eggs, hash browns—”
“I’m good, Dad.” Nick shrugged out of his coat and took Noel’s coat and hat when she handed them to him.
“Since you’re hanging yours up, anyway,” she said.
“Of course, princess. My mama always taught me to dote on my womenfolk.”
“Okay, too far.”