Page 60 of The Keeper and I
“If it helps, I don’t speak to my father either.”
“What?” she sputtered. “That certainly doesnothelp! That’s the saddest thing I’ve ever heard! You should call her back.”
“I don’t have anything to say to her.”
“Not even Happy Christmas?”
“No, angel,” he said, gently cupping her cheek and stroking it with his thumb. “Not even that.”
Laci wasn’t sure if it was her upbringing clouding her judgment, but she couldn’t imagine being so angry at one of her family members that she never spoke to them again. Especially on holidays. She knew he was still close to Ava, and he had used “we” earlier, which told Laci that Ava likely didn’t speak to their parents either.
“You’re sweet to worry, but it’s been this way for a long time now,” he said as if reading her mind. “I’m used to it.”
She took his hand and removed it from her face and interlocked their fingers. “I think that only makes it sadder.”
She looked at the marred face of the Colfield daughter in the picture again. How could a family turn on one of their own? Brokenness like that should never be something one is adjusted to. Love had to have existed once because they all sat together for the portrait. She wondered as she studied Jordan’s face if that was true of his family as well.
Laci’s eyes fluttered open to reveal Jordan next to her. The pillow he had set between them was missing, and his arm was slung over her waist. She took a moment to observe his sleeping face. It was the most peaceful she’d ever seen him. Gently, she traced his strong features with her finger, from his brow bone to his jaw, recalling the first time she saw him in that bar. He looked intimidating, which she was grateful for when Dane followed her in, but she hadn’t been afraid, not of Jordan. He felt familiar even before she knew him.
“Samuel…” a hushed voice sighed.
She sat up with a jolt and gazed around the room, chest heaving. She couldn’t tell if it came from her mind or if it came from outside of her. With the sun peeking through the curtains, there was enough light to know there was no one else in the room. No ghostly figures either. She took a deep breath to try and get her heart rate back down.
Jordan stirred beside her. “What’s the matter?”
“I…” she trailed off. “I heard someone say Samuel. It was like right in my ear. Maybe inside my head? I-I dunno…”
He sat up. “What?”
“I think it was a woman?” she guessed. “It was so fast and a whisper. It was weird.”
“Sounds like what I heard the other night at dinner.”
“What could it mean?”
Her bedroom door burst open, and in walked her father wearing a full-on Father Christmas get-up. Laci screamed. Her heart had only just started to settle down after the voice, but it was jackhammering against her ribcage again.
“Merry Christmas, kids!” Gene said jovially and completely unaware. “Hope you’ve been good because Father Christmas has—”
“Dad!” Laci cried. “Oh my God!”
Gene pulled the beard down. “What? I do this every year.”
Her face heated so much that she could have cooked on it. “I have aguestthis year.”
Jordan had laid back down and buried his face in his pillow, but his shoulders shook with obvious laughter. Laci swatted him on the arm.
“Happy Christmas, Jordan!” Gene said.
Jordan wiped his eyes and a smile tugged on the corners of his mouth. “Happy Christmas, Gene.”
“Glad to have you with us, son,” Gene replied, then clapped him on the shoulder. Gene looked at Laci again. “Mum’s got breakfast on. Coffee’s ready too. So, get on your snuggliest clothes and let’s see what Father Christmas brought!”
He disappeared into the hall. Laci flopped back onto the mattress, wishing it would swallow her whole.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” she said.
“Don’t be.” Jordan was still chuckling. “It was funny.”