7. Brad

7

brAD

B rad watched his daughter’s small, slumped form lumbering out of the school as if she were a hundred years old instead of nine, and felt his heart ache.

He was already beside himself today over Jillian. He’d spent his whole lunch with Amanda wishing he felt something for her—anything. It would have made things so much simpler if he knew it was possible to have feelings for anyone but the one person he was determined to let go.

But of course all he could think about was Jillian. At one point, he even swore he saw her in the store out of the corner of his eye, but when he looked again, it had only been Lucy Webb. And when he finally did spot Jillian in the café window just a few minutes ago, talking and smiling with his mom and her friends, he’d felt like the color had come rushing back into his world.

But she seemed so quiet and strange on the short ride over to the school. And now he didn’t have time to find out what was going on with her, because Josie was clearly out of sorts.

“Hey, Josie,” Jillian said quietly. “I’m so glad to see you.”

Josie didn’t answer. She just ran for Jillian, wrapping her arms around her nanny and seeming to melt into her.

“Come on,” Jillian said quietly. “Let’s get out of here and get a snack and you can tell your dad and me everything that happened today.”

Brad followed after them, amazed at how well Jillian always seemed to meet Josie where she was, whether her mood was upbeat or morose.

Though he honestly couldn’t remember Josie being like this very often—when she was sick maybe, and feverish?

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Josie said as Jillian helped her into the back seat.

“You don’t have to,” Jillian told her right away. “But when you’re ready, I’ll be here.”

Josie rolled her eyes, which made Brad feel worse and better at the same time.

Jillian gave him a quick look, as if to tell him not to scold the girl for her rudeness.

He nodded, knowing it was better to allow the eye roll than to push back when he was just glad she was being responsive at all.

He opened Jillian’s door for her, as always, and then got in himself and started the car.

As the little town melted away into suburban homes, then the college campus, and finally the trees and fields of the countryside, he felt his heartbeat slow and his mind begin to race with ideas of what might be going on with Josie.

Is she being bullied?

It was hard to imagine his headstrong and independent daughter letting anyone push her around. But it probably wasn’t easy being the new kid, even at a sweet little country school.

I’ll talk with Principal Tucker again , he decided.

“I think I found our first Christmas tradition today,” Jillian said suddenly. Her voice was modulated but happy. “It’s a volunteer project.”

“What is it?” Josie asked from the back seat, sounding more like herself.

“Your grandmother helps to run a festival that happens between Christmas and New Year’s,” Jillian said, sounding pretty excited now. “She does a big book sale.”

“The Winter Wonderland,” Josie said, her voice animated now. “I love the Winter Wonderland.”

Brad kept his mouth shut, feeling more relieved by the moment.

“Well, your grandma wanted to know if we want to help sort all the donations,” Jillian said. “And she said if we had any children’s books of our own that we don’t want anymore, we can bring them to your Aunt Caroline at the library.”

“I helped her with story hour for the little kids last year,” Josie said excitedly. “Yes, let’s do that.”

“Okay,” Jillian said. “We found our volunteer project, then.”

Josie started suggesting old books that she did not want to donate, and Jillian immediately began making a keep list on her phone, though Brad was pretty sure she knew that list by heart. He’d come home to find the two of them bent over the pages of one of those beloved stories many times over the years.

The first day he came home to find them curled up on the sofa, each bent over her own book was a bittersweet memory. He’d felt a wash of pride and a bite of sadness all at once at the clear evidence his little girl was growing up.

But this was good news. The volunteer project Jillian had chosen just so happened to be one that involved a family member already, so Brad knew he could let Grandma be the one to take over this tradition with Josie, and he could focus on making a decision about the space in town. Or at least that was what he should do.

“Can I help too?” he heard himself ask suddenly.

For a startled moment no one answered, and the only sound was the car’s engine and the faint sound of Bing Crosby singing “The Little Drummer Boy” on the radio, which Brad had turned down, but not off when Jillian got in the car with him earlier.

“Yes, Dad,” Josie said at last. “That would actually be really awesome. Right, Jillian?”

“Definitely,” Jillian said.

He kept his eyes on the road, but he could hear the smile in her voice. Warmth spread in his chest at the idea that he had earned her approval.

His two favorite girls kept mapping out books to keep and give away, and Brad turned onto Providence and into the tall trees that would lead them home.

A few hours later, they had pulled out every book they owned and were spending most of their time sorting, but also a good bit of it stopping to read passages and look at favorite pictures from some of Josie’s old favorites.

Brad slipped out while Josie was reading to Jillian and the two were giggling in delight, knowing everyone would be feeling hungry by now. Poking around the kitchen for a moment, he decided to make a tray of sandwiches for everyone.

When he got back into the room, he found Josie wrapped in Jillian’s arms, both of them crying, the book forgotten on the sofa beside them.

He was getting ready to back out of the room when Josie spotted him.

“Dad,” she sobbed. “We’re going to miss each other.”

“I know, honey,” he said, his own heart breaking.

“But we’re all going to be okay,” Jillian said, leaning back and cupping Josie’s cheek in her hand. “Right?”

“You can’t go,” Josie said simply.

“I have to go,” Jillian told her. “But not yet. We still have all our Christmas traditions to do first.”

Brad turned on the radio to WCCR and was grateful to hear an upbeat carol instead of a sad ballad. Slowly, they all got back to work and before long there was laughter in the small cottage living room again instead of tears.

By the time the sandwich tray was empty, the books had all been sorted into a box for keeping, a box for the sale, and a big box for the children’s library .

“Wow, that was a lot of books,” Jillian said, shaking her head as she looked at the fruits of their labor. “I’ll seal them up now, and we can take them into town tomorrow.”

“I’ll clean up the food stuff,” Brad said. “And then I can run the library books over at least, so we get back part of our living room.”

“That would be amazing,” Jillian said.

“I’ll come too, Dad,” Josie said.

“You’ve got to get your bath and ready for bed,” Jillian told her. “Tomorrow is a school day.”

Josie’s face fell, but she didn’t argue.

“Good night, Dad,” she said instead.

“Good night, Junebug,” he told her. “I love you.”

She headed upstairs with Jillian as Brad carried the tray to the kitchen. The old-fashioned cottage didn’t have a dishwasher or any of the modern gadgets the penthouse had. If he wanted hot water for tea, Brad would have to boil it in a kettle, not pour it straight out of a special tap. And if he wanted clean dishes, he had to hand wash them.

He didn’t mind much. He’d done the same growing up, and it made him happy to think he wouldn’t be raising a helpless daughter. Josie would learn to live a simpler life, and there was absolutely nothing wrong with that.

When the dishes were done, he dried his hands and headed back into the living room.

Jillian must have popped back down to seal the boxes at some point, because they were all closed up nicely again. He pulled on his coat, and grabbed the box for the library, impressed at the weight as he carried it out to the car thinking about how generous it was of his little girl to give away so many of her books. She was growing up bit by bit, whether she realized it or not.

Outside, the night was cold and still. When the box was safely stowed in the back, Brad stood for a moment, stretching and taking in the fresh air and the utter darkness that surrounded him under the twinkling stars.

This was something he had missed profoundly during his city years. The wild tangle of nature all around him was more beautiful than any tower or museum he could ever dream up. He knew to his bones he would be happier out here designing horse barns and mudroom additions than he could ever have been in the city.

But he had plenty left to do tonight, so he hopped into the SUV and took it down the driveway and out onto Providence toward Trinity Falls.

He reached the library just in time, grateful that there was always plenty of parking in the little village when the sun was down. He grabbed the box out of the back and headed toward the warm glow of the library.

“Brad Williams,” the head librarian said in greeting. “Is that a donation box?”

“Hi, Helen,” he said, nodding. “It’s for Caroline. And if there’s anything here she doesn’t want, I’ll come back for it and take it to the community center.”

“Ah, Winter Wonderland is coming up in a few weeks, isn’t it?” Helen said. “Well, I know Caroline will be happy to get first pick. ”

“Did someone say my name?” his sister-in-law asked, poking her head out of the office. “Oh, hey, Brad.”

“Hey, Caroline,” he said. “Josie sent me over with the box she wants to donate to the Winter Wonderland book sale. Mom said we should let you have first pick for the library.”

“Why didn’t you just bring them over to the house?” she asked.

“I didn’t really want you to have to carry them,” Brad chuckled, pointing to the big box at his feet.

“Goodness, that’s a lot of books,” Caroline said, her eyes sparkling with pleasure.

“Why don’t I bring them up to your office?” Brad offered. “You can go through them when you have time, and just call me when you’ve got what you want, and I’ll pick them up again.”

“You’re a true friend to the library,” Caroline said, gesturing for him to come on up.

He headed up the steps to the children’s section and into Caroline’s small office, depositing the box on her desk.

“Is that taking up too much space in here?” he asked her.

“Not for long,” she told him. “Thank you again for this. The kids always love new titles, so I appreciate getting first look.”

“It’s my pleasure,” he told her. “I’d better get back to my girls.”

She gave him an odd expression and he realized belatedly that he had referred to Jillian as his.

“It’s so lovely that she came out to celebrate Christmas with all of us,” Caroline said before he could fall all over himself to explain the slip of the tongue. “I wish she didn’t have to move on to another family.”

Maybe it was her kind eyes, but Brad couldn’t seem to keep up the facade with his little sister-in-law.

“Me too,” he admitted sadly.

“I’ll pray for a Christmas miracle,” Caroline decided with a smile.

“Thanks,” Brad said, choosing not to say out loud that it would certainly take one for Jillian to stay in their lives.

By the time he made it back to the cottage, the upstairs lights were off, which probably meant that Jillian had gone to bed too.

He felt a twinge that he’d lost another night of seeing her curled up on her chair with a book. But when he came in, he could hear her singing “The First Noel” along with the radio while she ran water in the kitchen.

“Goodness, Brad,” she gasped when he stepped into the kitchen to join her. “You startled me. Want some tea?”

“Sure,” he said. “Sorry about that. I was just enjoying the concert.”

“I was in church choir as a child,” Jillian said, smiling and shaking her head. “This time of year, we sang so much that I do it without even thinking about it sometimes.”

“It’s nice,” Brad told her. “Makes the house feel like a home.”

She didn’t respond, but her lips curved up in a private smile as she placed the kettle on the stove. He tried to hide a smile of his own as he brushed past her to pull down two chipped mugs from the upper cabinet that he knew was too high for her to easily reach.

“Thank you,” she said. “What kind would you like? I think we have peppermint and chai, and maybe English breakfast too.”

“Chai for me,” he said, grabbing the box, and the peppermint box too, since he knew it was her favorite.

They readied their mugs quietly, nothing but the clinking of spoons and the sound of the water bubbling to interrupt the friendly silence.

Maybe it was just being in the new and smaller space, but something about their evening routine felt more intimate to Brad tonight, as if each movement was bringing them closer together, pulling taut a thread between them he had never noticed was there before.

This wasn’t just an attraction, though the way her hair cascaded between her shoulder blades made him use every bit of his willpower to keep from reaching out and touching it. This was something deeper, something more.

The kettle whistled and Jillian jumped to pour the water into their mugs, as if she too had sensed the tension and wanted to relieve it somehow.

He watched as she carefully filled each one and placed the kettle back on the stove.

Her luminous green eyes met his as she held out a steaming mug to him. He knew it was only tea, but Brad felt as if she were offering up something more to him—something precious .

He reached for the mug, but found himself wrapping a hand around hers instead.

“Stay,” he heard himself say, his voice deep with emotion.

She blinked up at him in confusion and the gravity of what he had just done hit him in the chest like a sledgehammer.