Page 147 of Last Letters to Ara
Lou reaches over, ripping the box from Connor’s shocked hands. Everyone turns to look at her for a moment. She snorts. “Just kidding, fuckheads, I definitely don’t need these.” Throwing the box at an unexpecting Ryder, he catches it with his face.
Connor laughs, standing up to go get the box. “I have higher odds of getting Lou to jump into bed with me right now than Ryder has of getting laid.”
“What do you mean!? He has a different chick leaving a trail of drool after him every time I’ve seen him!” Lou exclaims.
“You can give a horse shit tons of water, buckets and buckets of water with great tits, but it doesn’t mean they’ll drink.”
Lou snorts. “That’s not even how the saying goes.”
“I’m right here,” Ryder says blandly, reminding them of his existence.
“Oh, come on, grumpy pants.” Lou looks at him with her crystal blue eyes. “Don’t you ever let yourself have some fun?”
Ryder looks at her a moment, eyes flat, and then almost as if it kills him, he says, “Is there any hot chocolate?”
“Duh! It’s Christmas.” Lou smiles. “I’ll show you to it, bartender. You better whip us up something good.”
As she leads Ryder to the kitchen island where the ingredients sit, Connor picks up the guitar that usually lays around the living room and starts playing around.
“So, boys,” I begin. “We need to be out here by 6 AM on Christmas morning and be done with presents and breakfast by nine, that way we can make it to Theo’s birthday surprise on time.”
I’ve kept my plans for his birthday a secret from both of them, not wanting to risk it getting spoiled. Turning twenty-six is a big deal. I scored an early check-in to this incredible hotel a few hours away, and fast passes to the theme parks nearby.
The best part, though? The wife of Theo’s favorite author reached out for a custom outfit recently, and I’d recognized her last name. As fate would have it, they will also be in Orlando for Christmas. She was happy to help arrange a lunch with her husband for Theo to pick his brain about all things author. Theo has no idea.
“We really don’t need to do anything special, I don’t want to take over Christmas and make it about me,” Theo says humbly.
“Mate, enough of that. As if we’re going to miss out on the chance to remind you that you’re getting old and ugly.”
“Speaking of being old…” A jolly, warm voice comes from the elevator.
Dave comes in, rosy as ever. The significance of how important of a role in my life he played this year tickles the back of my mind, and I can’t help but jump up to give him a hug. He wraps his arms around me with a belly laugh, and takes a look around at my friends—my family—sitting around the living room.
We had prepared a Christmas gift for Dave, for his amazing service. I’d wrapped up a whole bunch of yummies, but wanted the chance to give it to him when he didn’t have to dash off to his next location due to the busy Christmas deliveries. I’d invited him to bring the letter this evening, instead, so we could exchange them at the same time.
My attention snags on the light gray envelope, addressed in familiar handwriting.
The twelfth letter.
The twelfth task.
The last one for…a while.
“Thank you for coming tonight.” I graciously take the letter from Dave. “I wanted to get the chance to say Merry Christmas and to tell you how grateful I am for making sure I got every single one.”
“You’re welcome, Ara. It was truly my pleasure. I don’t know who wrote these letters, but I know they are important to you.” He motions to my friends on the couch. “And whoever they are, they would be happy to see this, to know that this exists for you.”
I smile, tears already threatening at the backs of my eyes.
“I remember meeting you that first month.” An unprecedented, serious look takes over Dave’s expression. “A beautiful girl, but so very unhappy. I’m glad I’ve gotten to see how much that has changed.”
I give him another hug. “Thank you, Dave.”
Connor yells something about being sappy and invites Dave to come take up a spot next to him on the large couch. Dave tries to be polite, saying he doesn’t want to be the old man crashing the party, but Connor insists, giving me the gift of a moment to spend with my dad.
Before disappearing down the hallway completely, I look back, taking in the image before me. Connor strumming on his guitar, playing the acoustic version of a Christmas song. Lou is talking to Ryder, who actually just laughed a little, as begrudgingly it may be. Theo holds up the Polaroid camera, snapping a picture of Dave so he can make an ornament of his own, preserving this moment forever.
A family born not from blood, but from choice.
