The Grump Who Stole Christmas: Kringle Family Christmas Book One by S. Doyle

Author:S. Doyle [Doyle, S.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-11-01T00:00:00+00:00

10

Later That Night

Paul

It was official. I freaking loved watching Kay-Kay eat. Brownies, breakfast, it didn’t matter. She did this thing after every bite where she closed her eyes and tilted her head back slightly as if each individual bite deserved to be savored. Chewed thoughtfully. Tasted completely.

She was making a sound that could have easily been mistaken for sex noises as she chewed on the cheesy pasta. So much I might have teased her about it, if her dad hadn’t also been sitting at the table.

“What did you call this, Paul?” Pops asked me.

“Carbonara.”

“I’ve had that before, in restaurants,” Pops said around another mouthful. “There’s supposed to be peas in it.”

“Not the way the Italians do it. Just pancetta, garlic, egg, and cheese. I like some red pepper chili flakes for heat.”

“Been to Italy?” Pops asked.

Kay-Kay was quiet because she was still doing the twirl the fork in the pasta, spear the pancetta, plop it in her mouth, head tilt up, and chew, chew, chew thing.

“A few times. Sometimes work, sometimes pleasure. The Italians are amazing farmers and do an incredible job of making the best use of the land in the various different regions around the country.”

“Dad, did you know who he was when you hired him?”

She took a break from eating long enough to ask her father the question.

“Ah, he told me he was some corporate bigwig farmer, looking for a change,” Pops said, brushing off the impressive resumé I’d laid out for him at the time. “I told him that’s how Salt Springs came into existence. Everyone who’s ever come to this town is looking for a different way of life. It still shocks me I had three kids and only one of them wanted to stay.”

“Dad. Be mad at me for leaving, but it’s not like Matt had a choice. He couldn’t play professional hockey in Salt Springs.”

Pops shifted on his chair and pushed his half-empty plate away. I watched Kay-Kay’s eyes drift to it. Like she was already calculating how much food she had left to eat on her plate and would her dad truly leave the leftovers for her.

“If it wasn’t hockey, it would have been something else. Matt’s being gone and staying gone proves that.”

“Well, he’s coming back tomorrow,” Kay-Kay pointed out.

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” he grumbled.

There was a story there. Family drama. I was smart enough to stay out of it.

“All this pasta has made me tired,” Pops said. “I’m going to head upstairs and watch TV in bed. You need help cleaning up?”

Kay-Kay slid his plate of pasta over to her side of the table. “No, I got it. Let me help you upstairs, Dad.”

“Don’t be silly, I’ve become a master on these crutches,” Pops said confidently.

“Dad…”

“I’ve been getting up these stairs fine without your help for days now. Stop being silly.”

Although it took him a few minutes to get up, get the crutches under his arms, and then navigate his way out of the kitchen. I listened for the sound of his good leg hitting each step up.

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