Chapter Sixteen

Brent

"We've been so worried about you, son," my mother exclaims as soon as dad and I walk through the door.

"I promise, you'd be the first to know if anything was wrong," I say and lean over to kiss her on the cheek. "I've been busy. Merry Christmas."

"As soon as you get done putting your things away, do you mind taking the trash out for me?" She picks up a towel and wipes her hands on it.

"Sure, no problem. Anything else I can do for you?" The more I can keep my mind occupied, the less I'll worry about Annie. I feel so bad that she's at the hotel all by herself.

"Check with your father. You know he bought himself a new TV last week. He's trying to convince me he needs to have it mounted on the wall, but I keep telling him it needs to stay on the stand. I don't like looking up at the ceiling to watch the dang thing. Brent?" she asks, bringing her hand to her hip. "Did you hear anything I said?"

"Sure. You said dad—" I pause for a second. "Sorry, mom."

"Is something wrong?"

"I'll be fine. I'm just worried about a friend right now. She's having to spend Christmas by herself this year." I'd love to tell my parents about Annie, but it's still too soon. I wouldn't want to jinx anything.

"We'll have plenty of food to eat. You should've invited her over."

It was on the tip of my tongue to ask Annie before I left her last night, but I wasn't sure how she'd feel about it. After all, we've only known each other a couple of days. "I'll think about it. Thanks, mom."

It feels good catching up on everything with my parents. They're both getting older and I should make it a point to come over more often. If nothing else, just to give them a hand with some things around here.

I fall asleep on the sofa while watching TV with my dad and when I wake sometime in the middle of the night, I find one of my mom's fuzzy blankets tossed over me. I'd meant to text Annie and now I feel bad I missed talking to her at all today. Who knows what she's probably thinking right now, especially since I'd made a point to get her number.

I grab a glass of water from the kitchen then walk back to the living room. The tree is still lit over in the corner and a handful of gifts are displayed underneath. I'm sure a couple probably have my name on them, but there's so much more to be thankful for these days. I think back to Christmases as a kid—man, I got some really cool things. A bike one year, a trampoline. I can't forget about my very first gaming system either. Yeah, those were the days.

I grab my phone off the coffee table and wish her a Merry Christmas anyway. I don't even care what time it is.