This Christmas by Heidi McLaughlin

Author:Heidi McLaughlin [McLaughlin, Heidi]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-12-17T00:00:00+00:00

THIRTEEN

EVANGELINE

Receiving a phone call from the local watering hole isn’t a new thing. Often, whoever is working will call me if they think someone is about to do something they’ll regret in the morning. Being the local attorney to everyone in town means someone along the way thought it was a good idea for me to play mediator before the police show up.

However, when the phone call is about your ex-boyfriend, you have to make a decision on whether you want to be involved with whatever antics he’s involved in or stay far, far away. Clearly, something happened with Caryn. She wasn’t at the ceremony and Zane seemed upset. His eyes wandered a lot, and he kept checking his phone. Sure, he put on a cheerful facade for his dad, but I could tell he wasn’t fully present.

Every part of me should’ve stayed at home, and told Kaden, the bartender, to call Mr. Whitaker or the police. If I were a vindictive person, the latter would’ve been somewhat satisfying, but I’m not. And the last thing Mr. Whitaker needs is to come out in the cold to rescue his drunk son.

After changing out of my very cozy, very warm flannel pants with vintage Santas all over them, I slip into my boots and walk down the street to the Marching Soldier. As soon as I walk in, I see Zane hunched over a tumbler of something. He was never a drinker when we dated and would occasionally have a beer if we were out with friends. I can honestly say the only time I saw him drunk was after his mom died. We were juniors in high school and her death shook him to the core. I swiped a bottle of vodka from my parents’ liquor cabinet, and took it out to the lake, with Zane. He drank. He talked. I listened.

It looks like I’m going to listen again.

I’m thankful the sidewalks are mostly clear of snow and ice, because getting Zane back to my place is enough of a challenge. He’s a big guy, standing at six foot five. I’m not short by any means, but he easily has eight inches on me.

Get your mind out of the gutter.

When we get back to my place, I’m not a stickler about him taking off his boots or his jacket. I’m more concerned with him getting upstairs without falling. Thankfully, he has enough wherewithal to use the railing.

Having him in my place—again—is a huge mistake. I don’t want him here. Mostly because I don’t trust myself around him. I can easily tell everyone I’m not in love with him, but the truth of the matter is, the moment I saw him at my family farm, looking like the boy-turned-man I had fallen in love with many, many years ago, those feelings rushed back. Tenfold. I’ve never been so eager for the holidays to be over, because then he’ll be back in New York and I’ll be here, living my life, like I have every year since he left.

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