I look up at him to gauge his reaction and it’s about what I thought it was going to be. He’s staring back at me, looking as if he’s not really sure how to react.
“What do you mean?”
“She just suddenly wasn’t there, Sam. We had plans and she never showed up, and I never heard from her again. It didn’t sit well with me, so I looked into it.”
“You investigated it?”
“I was eighteen and hadn’t even decided to go into the Bureau yet. I wouldn’t really call it investigating. But I poked around. I tried to figure out what happened. I knew something was wrong, but I hit nothing but dead-ends,” I say.
“You never mentioned that to me. You told me she left school, and I remember your being upset about it, but you never said anything about looking into it,” he says.
“I know.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I didn’t want you to react the same way everybody else did. They all thought I was just looking for trouble,” I admit.
“You do tend to see things in the worst possible light first,” he points out.
“Thanks.”
“But it’s part of what makes you so good at what you do, so it’s not always a bad thing. I just hate that I couldn’t be there for you when you were going through that. Maybe I could have helped,” he says.
I shake my head. “You would have just stopped me from looking, and that was something I needed to do. When I didn’t find anything and time passed without anyone’s raising the alarm about it, I figured I was just off-base and tried to put it behind me. I guess I didn’t.”
Sam slides closer to me and cups one hand around my face, stroking it with his thumb. “Want to do some Christmas decorating? It might make you feel better. We could go to the attic and get the tree. Put it up.”
“No. If Xavier showed up here and there were Christmas decorations up, he would probably have a heart attack and try to cut the tree down,” I say.
“It’s an artificial tree,” Sam says.
“He would find a way. You know, he called me this afternoon to remind me candle fragrances are as seasonal as flavors. I can’t burn a peppermint, gingerbread, hot cocoa, pine, or cookie-scented candle prior to the night of Thanksgiving, and only after we’ve eaten the meal.”
“Why?” he asks.
“I don’t know. But I mentioned the plan to go to the tree farm and cut down the tree Wednesday and he was all about that. He said as long as it’s not decorated, it’s still just a glorified houseplant. Like cut roses. Then it has its Thanksgiving night transformation to harness the magic of Christmas and usher it into our home.”
He thinks over the words for a few seconds. “I’ll take it.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Everything goes from calm to holiday chaos very quickly the next day. I was expecting a bit of a gap between Xavier’s and Dean’s arrival, and Eric’s and Bellamy’s following them later. As it turns out, both sets of friends arrive within minutes of each other and suddenly the living room is a pile of luggage, bags, and a massive gourmet gift basket as everyone hugs and talks at once.
Xavier stands off to the side, looking around as if he’s getting himself accustomed to the surroundings. It’s not the first time he’s been in my house, but it’s a different situation and I can appreciate that changes things for him. I give him the space he needs and take Bellamy and Eric to their room first.
One of the best things about having this house is all the extra space. There are plenty of bedrooms to accommodate everyone and still have my office and a little gym for Sam downstairs. That isn’t an original feature of the house. It’s actually fairly new. He still has his own place, but as our lives meld, more and more of him ventures over to my place.
It’s not something we ever had a conversation about, but it seems we’ve settled on this being our home. There’s no set timeline or pressure, but at some point, he’ll put his house on the market and move everything over here. At that point, I imagine all the rooms in the house will have a few touches of him.
I’m still trying to wrap my head around that. Not because I don’t want it to happen or I’m too tightly in control of the house to allow any space for him to make it his home as well. Simply because there are times when I wake up and still feel as if I’m at my grandmother’s house. I have a few brief moments of feeling like a little girl who’s going to go downstairs and find Gran making pancakes.
The feeling always passes quickly, but I wonder what it’ll be like to see the little bits of Sam taking over corners of the house and buying furniture and other details together.
I set down the bag I carried up to the room and pull Bellamy into another hug.
“I feel as if I haven’t seen you in so long,” I say. “I know it hasn’t been that long, but it just feels like forever.”
“I know,” she smiles. “Me, too.”
She glances back at Eric and there’s something in the expression that flickers between them that makes my eyes narrow.
“What’s going on?” I ask. “What was that look?”
Bellamy steps back so she’s standing next to him and Eric slides his arm around her waist to hold her close to his side. They look at each other, and for a second it’s as if they’re lost in each other. It’s fun watching my
