Home > Jingle Bell Hell (Bad Luck Club #2)(8)

Jingle Bell Hell (Bad Luck Club #2)(8)
Author: Denise Grover Swank

“Did he say anything about his work?”

“He said he does construction, like Uncle Cal.”

I nearly correct him, because my sister Molly and her boyfriend aren’t married, but it’s sweet that he’s finally taken an interest in Cal. He made Aidan this truly amazing tent, and it apparently upgraded him to uncle status. Which is fine, I guess, even though it’s currently inaccurate. It’s only a matter of time before they make things official.

Thinking about Cal and that tent he made, my mind skips to his business. His house flipping and renovation business. Huh. If Jace works in construction, they might know each other. I tuck that in the back of my brain and ask, “Anything about his family?”

“I don’t know. He said something about a nephew. Why are you asking me so many questions?”

“Just interested in your new friend,” I mutter. The nephew fits with what Ms. Liu told me about Jace’s motivation for volunteering his time. I guess his nephew is on the spectrum too, and they have a close relationship. Knowing that made me feel more comfortable with the arrangement.

Aidan starts humming Christmas carols, and I spend the rest of the drive glancing in my rearview mirror. I don’t see Jace, which is actually sort of a relief. I always drive the speed limit, and if he were close enough to be seen, it would mean he was speeding.

When we get there, Aidan refuses to go in until Jace arrives, so we wait at the bumper of the car, Aidan playing with his zipper while I resist the temptation to rifle through my purse just so I have something to do with my hands. I hate that it’ll look like we’ve been waiting for him—even though that’s exactly what we’ve been doing.

A tingle of anticipation zips through me when his red truck pulls in, and from the huge smile on Aidan’s face, I’m not the only one affected. He starts hopping a little on his feet, from one to the other.

To my surprise, Jace is grinning when he gets out of the truck. He’s not treating this as an unexpected inconvenience.

“Thanks,” I say to him, telling my hormones to get lost. This is Aidan’s “buddy.” And my son needs to make connections more than I need to get laid, even if Molly’s right and there are spiderwebs in my vagina. Besides, it’s not as if a man like him would ever look twice at me. He probably dates models. Or bartenders. Or the type of women who keep snakes for pets and take pictures of them writhing sinuously around their bodies. “I appreciate you making the time. I know you were only expecting to spend an hour with him today.”

He shoots me a look that’s almost annoyed. Um, okay.

“It’s no imposition. I’m happy to spend time with Aidan.”

“Come on,” Aidan says, offering Jace his hand as if I’ve become vapor. “You know, you should get almond milk too. Human bodies aren’t equipped to process cow milk. We’re only supposed to drink breast milk, like how Mom fed me when I was a baby.”

Dear God. I think my flesh has permanently become red. Jace doesn’t glance back at me, thankfully, and I follow them in, silently reminding myself to be grateful. This is the most I’ve heard Aidan speak to a nonfamily member for a month, and while he often attaches himself to one person at a time, letting everyone else fade away like they’re wallpaper, I’m still totally gobsmacked that this Butterfly Buddies thing has worked out so well.

So why can’t I stop myself from checking out Jace’s butt in his slightly worn jeans?

 

 

The Chocolate Lounge is going well. Sometimes it’s hit-and-miss because Aidan doesn’t like crowds or do well in them, but his focus is totally on Jace. Although Jace does ask me what I do—lawyer—and responds that he totally “sees that,” whatever that means, I mostly stay silent while the two of them talk. Actually, Aidan does most of the talking, telling Jace statistics about his favorite dinosaur (the ankylosaurus), but I soak in my son’s good cheer. He hasn’t been happy much since Glenn left. Glenn was a mostly absent father, but he was still Aidan’s dad. That meant something. Or at least it did to me and Aidan. Yet, a little voice in my head whispers that Glenn never listened to Aidan with this much interest, as if he actually cared about what he was saying. He’d have been scrolling through his phone twenty seconds in.

Aidan pauses the dinosaur talk to say, “We don’t have to play that matching game again on Thursday, do we, Jace? The library has a copy of Race to the Treasure, and that’s a much better game. I used to have it, but Mom left it at Nana and Gramps’s house.” He gives me an accusatory look that tells me I’d better order a replacement.

Thankfully, Jace isn’t the sort to get offended easily. “Sure, buddy. I’d love to learn something new.” The easy way he says it warms me to him.

“Well, if you want to learn something new, I can tell you about the ankylosaurus’s natural enemies.”

Jace might be bored out of his skull, but if he is, he isn’t showing it, and I take the opportunity to order the game for Aidan on my phone.

We don’t stay long, because I have my mysterious Molly meeting to get to, but after we say goodbye and I get Aidan strapped into his booster seat, I notice Jace’s truck is still in the lot. On a whim, I tell Aidan, “I’ll be right back,” and rush over to Jace’s truck. His ocean eyes widen when I appear by his window.

“Everything okay?” he asks as he rolls the window down.

“Yes,” I say, realizing I’m panting a little. God, I’m a mess. Still, I have to tell him this. “Thank you. I…I’ll be honest. I wasn’t sure about this whole thing. But Aidan’s really taken with you. It’s wonderful to see him so happy. He hasn’t been since…anyway, thank you for that. I…” Oh, no. Are there tears in my eyes? What on earth is happening to me? “Anyway. I just wanted to thank you.” I’m repeating myself, and I probably sound exactly as tired as I am, but when I meet his eyes again, I’m surprised by how they’ve softened.

“My nephew and I were close,” he says, leaning toward me a little. “Aidan reminds me a little of him. It’s really meaningful to me…spending time with him.”

The way he says it makes me wonder if the little boy died. A gasp escapes me, and I lean forward, but he pulls back in the car as if he’s worried I might try to kiss him. Oh my God, did he think I was going to?

Mortification roils through me. “Okay. So. Anyway. Thank you. Yeah, I said that. I’ll see you on Thursday. Not for hot chocolate but when I come to pick up Aidan.”

An alarm goes off in my head, practically chanting, Exit, exit, exit.

He displays that little half smile again, and I have to wonder if he’s laughing at me. People do that sometimes. Because I’m too literal. Because I’m almost as socially awkward as Aidan. Because when you strip away the mask of manners and professional dress, I don’t know what to do with myself. At least I came here in my work clothes. At least I have that to cling to.

“Goodbye, Mary,” he says. “I’ll get hot chocolate with you anytime you like.”

Then he puts the truck in reverse and leaves.

My mind is working overtime—anytime I like? Did he mean anytime Aidan likes?—when I hear a woman calling out, “Holy Christmas crackers! Someone left a little kid in this car. Are you okay, kid? Micah, why isn’t he saying anything? Does he have enough oxygen?”

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