“Of course, I understand.” He frowned.

“Chloe love, can I borrow you in the kitchen for a moment?” asked Susan. “Alan, pop in and say hello to Max, will you?”

The two thirty-somethings did as they were told and within moments, Chloe was on the receiving end of a conspiratorial whisper. “I hope you don’t think I’m poking my nose in, but I couldn’t help but overhear.” If Susan said the word, she’d stay, no questions asked. “You should go with Alan.”

“Really?”

“If it’s what you want to do, then absolutely,” came the whispered reply. Oh, thank god! “Alan—sorry, Archer—as I said, he’s a good egg. And if you can sort out all this other business, well, then … go. Go and have a lovely time, and we’ll be here when you return.”

Chloe dropped her cool façade and bounced up and down on the spot. “Thank you. I do really like him.”

“Yes.” A simple reply, but it meant the world to her.

“But Chloe love, we’re going to have to do something about a proper coat for you. I can’t bear to think of you freezing half to death like you were yesterday. I think I have something that will do.”

“Oh, I was fine. You don’t need to—” Susan’s raised eyebrows said otherwise. “Okay, you’re right. Thank you!” She gave Susan a kiss on the cheek and went to tell Archer the good news.

Chapter 19

Jules

“Hi, Dad! Merry Christmas!”

“Hi, sweetheart. Same to you, although it’s the twenty-sixth, there, huh?”

“Boxing Day, yes.”

“The Canadians call it that too, although I’ve never met one who could explain why.”

“Same here. As far as I can gather, it’s a lot like the Friday after Thanksgiving—leftovers, watching Netflix, and lounging about in a food coma. It’s also ninety-eight degrees today, so we’re inside with the A/C on.”

“I can’t even fathom that. It’s a balmy five degrees here today.”

As much as she missed her family, especially her dad, Jules was glad to be where she was. “So, what’s going on? The usual craziness?” she asked.

“You guessed it. I just finished cleaning up after breakfast.” She could imagine the giant spread—cinnamon rolls, pancakes, bacon, and eggs. Her dad’s Christmas Day breakfasts were legendary. “I think we’ll be opening presents soon.”

Jules knew the scene by heart—the giant scraggly Christmas tree decorated in popcorn and paper chains, just like when they were kids, surrounded by a mountain of presents which would turn into a mountain of discarded wrapping paper over the course of an hour. She’d always been someone who enjoyed the giving part more than the receiving, waiting to see the delight on her family’s faces as they unwrapped what she hoped were the perfect presents.

And not that she was ungrateful, but it was rare that she received something she wouldn’t buy for herself if she wanted it. Her best present last year had been from her dad. He’d gifted her a chunk of air miles, enough for an international flight. Actually, his gift had “paid” for her flight to Australia, but it was the thought that counted most to Jules, that message of, “I see you, that you need to go and explore this world. Here, go and see some of it on me.”