Violet hoots with laughter.
“And on Christmas Day, there are sweaters.”
“Christmas sweaters?”
“Matching Christmas sweaters, with Bible verses.” Mama asked for Henry’s measurements.
“And he has no idea?” Howard asks.
“Who has no idea about what?” Henry suddenly looms around the corner, making me jump.
“Nothing.” I smooth my palm over his chest in an affectionate gesture.
His eyes narrow on me and Violet, then move to Howard, who clears his throat and keeps his focus on the teapot. “I don’t like surprises, Abbi,” he says evenly.
“Really? And I was so sure you did. You know, remember Halloween?”
He opens his mouth, but stalls.
“I thought so.”
A slow, vicious smile unfolds on his lips. “You really want to play this game with me?”
My stomach flips. Somehow, I’m going to pay for this. I’ll likely enjoy it immensely, but I’ll still lose.
“My money’s on Abbi,” Violet says through a mouthful of cookie.
“Traitor.” Henry glares at her. “What are they planning, Howard?”
The old man holds up the tray. “Tea, anyone?”
My phone chirps with another text from Mama, asking where we are and how long before we get to Greenbank.
“We should get going soon.” Henry peers out the front window. “The snow is picking up and we have a few hours to go still.”
Disappointment skitters across Violet’s face. “But you haven’t opened your gifts yet!” She dives under the tree, rifling through Henry’s deliberately set piles, picking one up to shake it—while flashing a toothy grin over her shoulder at him—before pulling out two wrapped boxes. She drops one in each of our laps.
Henry eyes it. “You didn’t need to get me anything.”
She shrugs. “It’s nothing big. ’Cause, you know, you have everything already. But you might as well open them together.”
I steal a glance at Violet—with her bottom lip pulled between her teeth—as we peel away the tape and unwrap the boxes.
“I love it!” I hold up my olive-green knit hat, admiring the braided pattern.
“I thought that color would go with your hair.”
I tug it on my head. “Thank you, Vi.”
“She’s been working on it every night for the past two weeks,” Gayle exclaims.
Inside Henry’s box is a simple beige knit beanie.
“You had a black one on at Rockefeller, so I thought something different would be good. You don’t have one like this already, do you?” Violet waits for his response with her hands balled into tight fists.
“I don’t have this color.” When Henry meets her eyes, his sparkle with something raw I can’t identify, and his jaw is taut. “It’s perfect. Thank you, Violet.”
She blushes and then averts her gaze as if uncomfortable.
I lean in. “And I’m thanking you, too, because your father looks hot in a beanie.” It’s the first time I’ve called him anything but Henry in front of her.
Violet scrunches her nose with disgust as Howard and Gayle laugh.
Henry shakes his head at me before holding up his index finger toward Violet. “Okay, you can open one today. The skinny, silver one in the tree.”
I frown curiously at him as Violet bolts for it. I wrapped all the gifts we brought, but I didn’t wrap that one.
“It’s a surprise,” he mouths with a knowing smirk.
She tears open the thin rectangular box and pulls out a plastic card attached to a lanyard. “A ski-lift ticket?” She frowns as she reads. “Colorado?”
“I thought the three of us could go there for a few days next week. I have a hotel there.”
She reads the pass again and her face lights up. “That’s my birthday.”
A soft expression unfurls on Henry’s face. “I know.”
I hadn’t even thought of Violet’s birthday, so swamped with work and Christmas.
But Henry did.
I feel my pulse in my throat as I watch this exchange, the urge to throw myself at this man tremendous.
Violet looks at her grandparents, hopeful.
“Well, of course! He’s already cleared it with us.” Gayle’s smile is broad. “You only turn sixteen once.”
“I’ve never skied before,” she admits, looping the lanyard around her neck.
“Neither have I. We can learn together,” I say.
“I’ve already booked you both an instructor for the bunny hill,” Henry confirms.