Winter Blues by Jessica Caryn

Author:Jessica Caryn
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tainted Sweetheart

Morning Check-In

Vance

Our bed felt different without Cassandra. I went to sleep after midnight but woke up feeling somewhat rested. I showered, put on warm clothing and then grabbed my luggage and phone. My wife’s text was all I needed to smile. She stayed up late with her friends, so it wasn’t a good idea to call first thing in the morning.

I glanced at the time. Braeden would be awake in an hour, and I wanted to be the first person he saw. Mom was always up early to see Dad off to work. She knew my son’s routine, so breakfast would be ready. Thatcher called on my way out.

I answered, “Since when are you up this early?”

“We have a trip this morning.”

“Thatch, we don’t. I asked to borrow your truck since the snow tires are installed,” I crossed the foyer to the elevator. “More snow fell in the mountains. Cassandra was worried about Jared leaving, so it’s not safe.”

I stepped into the elevator. Thatcher heard the low chime, “You’re leaving. You’ll see my godson before you go. I’ll meet you at your parents’ house for breakfast.”

He ended the call. I shook my head. Thatcher wasn’t invited. He planned on crashing for the weekend.

It was a short drive to the Upper East Side. My parents lived in a Greystone with wrought iron balconies and gates. It was home for as long as I could remember. Mom and Dad loved the neighborhood.

I parked the car, went up the wide stone steps, and was greeted by the smell of fresh cooked bacon. I took off my coat at the door and went to the kitchen. Dad was sitting at the table with coffee. I was surprised to see him reading the news on his tablet. Dad warned me not to say anything about it. I laughed and kissed Mom’s cheek, “Good Morning, Thatcher is on his way over.”

Mom sighed, “What will he do if Jaime is there with someone?”

“He’ll improvise and make the guy uncomfortable in the process,” Dad replied but didn’t look up from his tablet. “Sweetheart, he’s a wild card like our son. It’s all about the chase.”

I never mentioned Thatcher being interested in Jaime, but my parents always knew more than they let on.

“I’ll talk to Thatch on the ride there,” I promised. “How was Braeden last night?”

“He was up late,” Mom glared at Dad to prove he was responsible if Braeden woke up cranky.

Dad didn’t say she was wrong, “Love, our grandson isn’t here often. We had fun.”

“I told you not to wake him, but you came in and did it anyway,” Mom was chastising Dad.

It was my cue to leave the kitchen. I went upstairs. My old room was Braeden’s nursery. His crib was like the one we had at home, so it could be converted into a toddler bed, and the security gates near the stairs were installed last year. Mom was worried Braeden would climb out the crib soon. Dad and I planned to lower it to bed level next weekend.

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