Hope for the Holidays by Daryl Wood Gerber

Author:Daryl Wood Gerber
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Daryl Wood Gerber
Published: 2023-11-14T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 25

Steve’s cell phone rang Friday morning at seven a.m.. He sat up in bed, this time avoiding hitting his head on the shelf, and looked at the readout. Unknown Caller. Not Dave. Not his agent. On the off chance it was someone from Los Angeles calling him directly, he answered.

A boy said, “Hi, Steve, it’s me.”

“Who’s me?” Steve asked, sort of recognizing the voice but not being able to put a name to it.

“Todd Lyons. We met last night.”

Whoa! The kid. Steve rubbed his jaw, fully awake now. Had Hope put her son up to this? Was she going to accept the prize after all? Would she save face if her son said yes instead of her? Okay, sure. Whatever it took.

Steve said, “Hey, what’s up, Todd?”

“Not much. I just wanted to talk about the Trail Blazers’ lineup.”

Huh? Steve rolled the kinks from his neck. Was this kid for real? He wanted to chat at—Steve checked the time again—yeah, seven. His eyes weren’t deceiving him. Didn’t Todd have school? “Uh, sure, kid, okay. What do you think of the lineup?”

Todd launched in, getting all the names and statistics right. Over the course of five minutes, he and Steve agreed on a number of items, including that Boxer wasn’t so hot of late.

When a lull occurred, Todd said, “Well, gotta go. Nice talking.” And he hung up.

For a long minute, Steve stared at the phone, slightly puzzled. The kid had no endgame. No request. He hadn’t lashed out at Steve for embarrassing his mother. Was it a trick? Scratching his jaw, he mumbled, “Cute kid,” and scrambled out of bed to wash up.

Under a shower of steaming hot water, he tried but failed to come up with a solution that might appease Dave. The truth was always best, he decided, and after dressing for the day, he called his boss. In less than two minutes, he recapped last night’s fiasco. “She was embarrassed. I was mortified. My timing—”

“Sucked,” Dave inserted. “You know you need her to sign on the dotted line.”

“Yeah. I’ll get her to accept the prize today. Promise.” Even if he had to personally cover the expenses Hope was so worried about. He’d stewed over Hope’s reasoning until about two a.m. before deciding that was the solution, legal issues aside.

“You know, boy-o, giving it to someone in her position will be a ratings boon, now more than ever.”

“Ratings . . .” Steve wagged his head. “No, Dave, man, we can’t mention her situation. We have to keep it under wraps.”

“Sure, sure. Now, go make me proud.”

At noon, Steve, Brie, and his family made their way to Aroma Café. Outside, a quartet of madrigal singers decked out in turn-of-the-century regalia were singing “O, Come All Ye Faithful.”

Steve put his hand on the door to open it and paused. Even though he’d dressed for the weather in a long-sleeved shirt, vest, and coat, a chill cut through him. It had nothing to do with the possibility of seeing Hope and being on the receiving end of her wrath again.

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