Tara followed Bo to the chairs behind the sofa. The children were tasked with passing out presents. The first gift went to Bo. It was a picture frame from Tabitha containing a photo of the two of them from the day before.
Tabitha came over and gave him a bear hug. “I’m glad we could spend Christmas together.” Her eyes misted.
Bo cleared his throat. “So am I. Thanks, Tab.” He lifted the photo so everyone could see it. Bo opened several other gifts. He argued that they should take turns—which apparently was their tradition—but was loudly overruled. Each gift had a personal touch. Bo held up a pair of pants from his dad. The right leg had been cut off at the knee and a Velcro strip had been inserted along the inseam, allowing the pants to fit over his fixator. Amid the laughter, Bo pointed a threatening finger at his father. “I’m gonna wear these to your anniversary party.”
Barrett chuckled. “Wear what you want, as long as you show up.”
The mirth helped dispel the emotional tension that had built in the room. It was as if Bo’s family had said, “We love you. We want you back.”
It brought a lump to Tara’s throat, but Bo seemed to take it in stride.
Nine-year-old Blaire sidled up to Bo. “Uncle Bo, does that thing hurt?”
He shrugged. “Not as bad as it did at first.”
“What happened?”
Sean joined them, leaning against the back of the sofa. Bo told what he knew, prompting Tara to fill in the blanks.
“You were covered in blood?” Blaire gaped at Tara.
She laughed. “It was all over my hands and my clothes.”
“Cool!” Blaire’s brows drew together. “Uncle Bo, how come you never visit anymore?”
“I got busy, Blaire. Too busy.” Bo exhaled. A simple question. With such a lame answer. He nudged Blaire’s shoulder. “Are you playing baseball this year?” Sean shot a warning glance and Bo gave a slight nod. No more broken promises.
“Uh huh.” Blaire bounced on the balls of his feet. “I’m going to pitch.”
“I get this thing off in a few weeks. It’s going to be awhile before I can drive that far, but how about if I come down for a game later in the season? We could get ice cream after.”
Blaire’s eyes lit. “That would be awesome!” He eyed Tara. “Will you come, too?”
She smiled. “I’m not sure if I can, Blaire. I’m in school. Sometimes I have a lot of homework.”
“School! You’re way too old for school.”
Sean gave Blaire a playful push. “Go play with your cousins. We’ll talk about your manners on the way home.”
“Sorry.” Blaire hugged her and raced off.
Tara smiled and stood. “Sean, will you babysit Bo? I’m going to help clean up the kitchen.”
“I’ll do what I can.” Sean took her place.
“I appreciate you guys coming up,” Bo said.
“It was nice to do something different.” Sean elbowed him. “You better not let her get away. The whole family’s in love with her.”
“I’m working on it.”
Before dinner, Tabitha plunked down on Bo’s left. “Are you still glad we came?”
“Of course.”
On his right, Tara found his hand under the table and laced their fingers. “Tabitha, do you live in Davis?” Tara leaned forward, making eye contact.
“Bo’s the only one who doesn’t.” Tabitha gave Bo a reproving look.
“And your boys are Kyle and Shane, right?”
“You’re good with names.” Tabitha said.
“How old are they?”
“Kyle’s eight and Shane is thirteen.”
“Jill and I bought a football in case the kids want to play. The side yard is pretty big. It’s on the sunny side, so there’s no snow.”
“I’ll let them know. I’m sure they’ll want to play if you promise to watch.” Tabitha laughed.
Tara looked confused. “Why?”
Bo nudged her. “I told you everyone would fawn over you.”
She let go of his hand.
Bo reached around her waist so she couldn’t escape. He laughed and gave her a kiss.
“It’s a Michaels’ thing, Tara,” said Tabitha.
“Go away, Tab. You’re gonna scare her off and then where will I be?”
Tabitha retreated after a loud guffaw.
“You guys are audacious,” Tara said.
“We are. My nephews are taken with you.”
She emitted an uncomfortable sigh.
Bo caught her gaze. “You’re beautiful. You dazzle when you’re fresh out of bed in a robe and pajamas. The fact that you take a sincere interest in people shows that it’s not just skin deep.”
She bit her lip. “Thank you.”
“Why do you look so uncomfortable?”
“Because I am.” She wriggled from his grasp.
Tara locked the door after Barrett and Sylvia, who were the last to leave. She scanned the room. Not a thing out of place. Everyone had pitched in to clean up. “Wow. It’s as if it never happened.”
Bo grunted from the sofa where he lay sprawled like a gutted fish.
Tara went to the kitchen and took the tin from the cupboard. She returned, sat on the coffee table and poked Bo in the ribs.
He opened one eye a small slit.
She held out the tin. “This is for you.”
Both eyes opened and a weary smile appeared. “What’s this?”
“There’s an easy way to find out.”
He sat up, untied the red ribbon and opened the lid. “Toffee.” He eyed her. “Did you make this?”
She nodded. “Try it.”
He took a bite and groaned in pleasure. “So. Good.” He slumped back on the sofa again. “How did you know?”
“A little bird told me.”
“A Jill-bird?”
“Yep.”
“Toffee’s my weakness. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I hope it’s okay that I waited. I didn’t want it to get eaten by the horde.”
“You have good instincts.” He finished that piece and closed the lid. “I wasn’t able to shop for you.”
“You re-tiled my fireplace.”
He rose on an elbow and pointed toward the hall. “I had one of my minions help me out. Go look for a blue bag in the back of the coat closet.”
Tara found a blue gift bag, covered with snowflakes. White tissue paper frothed out the top, concealing what was inside. She went back to the table and sat. “You didn’t need to get me anything else.”
Bo touched her knee. “I think you’ll like it.”
Tara reached in and felt something soft. She pulled out the scarf she’d tried on at the ski store. Then the hat. She held them against her cheek. “You saw me?”
He nodded.
“You’re so sweet. Thank you.” She smiled and tugged the hat on, then wrapped the scarf around her neck. “I’m going to sleep in these.”
He laughed. “So ... you like them?”
“I do. Feel how soft.” Tara rubbed the scarf on his cheek.
Bo drew her in for a kiss. “Thanks for letting us take over the house. You earned your hospitality badge.” His eyelids drooped.
“You’re tired. I’ll start your bath.”
He shook his head. “I’m out of juice.”
Tara helped him to bed. As he was fading, she leaned and kissed his forehead. “You were wrong about something.”
“What?” he whispered.
“Ruining my holiday. It was a wonderful Christmas.”
He smiled and slipped into sleep.