“I will.” After pulling on all my winter gear, I left the house and wandered down the brick path again, as I had the other night. But this time, Henry’s truck wasn’t there.

I was both happy and sad—it was good that he wasn’t so miserable at home alone that he’d come into work on Christmas Day, but I also wanted to see him. I walked back home and asked my dad, who was helping Keaton unpack his telescope, if I could borrow his car.

“Sure, honey. Keys are on a hook in the mudroom. Be careful—the roads are still slippery.”

“Thanks, I will.” I ruffled Keaton’s hair. “I won’t be long.”

“Okay,” he said. “Can we call Dad when you get back? I want to tell him what I got.”

“You can call him whenever you want, buddy. But remember the time difference—it’s only about eight A.M. there right now. He might not be up yet.”

“Okay.”

Praying Brett wouldn’t ignore a call from his children on Christmas morning—but not putting it past him—I grabbed my dad’s car keys off the hook near the back door and headed out to the garage.

While the car warmed up, I called April.

“Hey,” she said after the first ring. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas.”

“Did Santa come?”

“He did. The kids are happy.”

“I didn’t even see you before I left last night. Did you sneak off to get the presents under the tree?”

“No, actually, I was in the bar most of the night talking to Henry. And then he walked back to the house with me and helped me get the gifts out after the kids went to bed.”

“Aha. Interesting.”

“It wasn’t like that,” I scolded, although actually, it was exactly like that.

“I’m only teasing. You know I adore Henry and think you two should be friends.”

“Yeah.” I bit my lip. “Speaking of that, you don’t happen to know his address, do you?”

“I probably have it somewhere. Hold on.”

I waited, trying to think up a good reason why I’d need his address right now and coming up short. Maybe I’d get lucky and she wouldn’t ask.

Nope.

Right after she recited it, she asked, “What do you need his address for?”

Sighing, I decided to be honest—or close to it. “Because I feel weird about something that happened last night, and I think he might too. And I don’t really want to deal with it over the phone, not that I even have his number.”

April was silent for a moment. “What happened last night?”

I hesitated.

“Sylvia, you cannot do this to me. What happened?”

“Okay, okay.” I took a breath. “He kissed me. We kissed.”