Page 233 of Securing the Pucking Rebound

‘Thank you,’ I mouth.

“Now, are you going to welcome me with a kiss or what?”

64

CALVIN

When Garrett started blowing up my cell yesterday evening, suggesting that I join them for Christmas, I thought he was joking. But then, a plane ticket arrived with my name on it, and I realized that he was serious.

I had to decide if I was going to blow off my plans, hop on a plane, and spend the next few days with my girl.

Who am I kidding? Of course that was exactly what I was going to. I didn’t even have to think about it.

So I got up this morning, lied to Sienna about my plans for the next few days, packed my carry-on, and went to the airport.

I landed a few hours ago, checked into a hotel, and spent the afternoon running around town, trying to buy last-minute gifts for Sienna’s brother and her parents, whom I haven’t seen since I was twelve and know hardly anything about. But without tooting my own horn, I think I might have nailed it. I bought Sienna’s weeks ago. I wanted to give it to her before she left, but she wanted to wait until she was back and we had more time together. It was the first thing I packed, and I’ve checked at least five times that it was safely tucked into my carry-on.

I hadn’t really stopped to think about what I was doing; it was all too much of a whirlwind until I was standing outside this building, watching what felt like the entire town disappearing inside.

I don’t think I’ve ever been to an event like it. Sure, there are always loads of things happening at work around this time of the year—fundraisers, visits to the kids in the hospital, appearances on shows, and interviews with others. But a community event like this…never. Not even back home in Texas.

The holidays were a family event. We stayed on the ranch and celebrated together. It was never lonely; our family was incredible. But now I’m starting to realize what they might have been missing out on. They might have invited people in, but they hardly ever ventured out, and the only reason my sisters and I knew our neighbors was that we went to school with them. As far as I can remember, Mom and Did didn’t have any friends. If they did, I certainly never saw them. I wonder if they’d had some outside influences, how their opinions of me might have been different.

I’ve done a lot of things in my life that should have made me nervous, big games that should have rocked my confidence, but I’ve never felt as uneasy as I did walking into this community center, wearing what is arguably the most hideous Christmas sweater that was ever created. I mean, the thing fucking sings for Christ’s sake.

There was a part of me that thought it was a joke when I found it waiting for me on the bed of my hotel room. As soon as I turned up here and discovered that everyone was wearing something equally as ugly, I figured Garrett wasn’t actually playing a prank on me.

And when I walked inside and spotted four other people wearing the exact same sweater, a weird feeling came over me.

Have I been invited into the family before I’ve even met the parents?

I’d been kicked out of my own, and they knew me from the day I was born.

But as much as my head was spinning, as soon as I focused on my girl sitting alone at a table with an empty paper plate and plastic champagne flute, all was forgotten.

All I needed was her.

And the second she looked up into my eyes and discovered I really was standing in front of her, like an early Christmas gift sent from Santa, everything wrong in my world shifted into position.

Her smile of joy, the twinkle in her eyes is something I will never forget. Neither is the kiss we fall into as if we haven’t seen each other in months, not just over twenty-four hours.

“Alright, alright, put him down already,” a deep voice teases.

Reluctantly, I stand up straight, putting an end, I’m not ready for, to our kiss.

Sienna stares up at me, her eyes still wide and shellshocked.

“Hey, man,” Garrett says, stealing my attention from his sister. “We’re so glad you could make it.”

Before I know what’s happening, he pulls me in for a hug.

“I haven’t seen her smile like that since I arrived,” he confesses quietly in my ear. “Think I’m gonna win Brother of the Year.”

I’m laughing as we part, and there, right behind him, are their parents.

I don’t really have any memory of them from that summer; I was too enthralled with their daughter.

Their dad, Martin, steps forward first and holds his hand out. “Good to see you again, son. It’s been a few years, I understand.”