Eight Christmas Eves

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Authors: Rachel Curtis
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out of the blue, grinning at him when he
turned to look at her in surprise.
    His lips
parted. “Are you serious?”
    Her mouth
wobbled as she tried to suppress amusement. “Just to prove there’s no hard
feelings?”
    “Somehow, I
ended up with the raw end of this deal,” he muttered, narrowing his eyes in
exaggerated annoyance.
    “Why would you
expect anything else?”
    With a laugh,
he reached over and gave one of her braids a playful tug. “If you can stay
awake through the whole movie, I’ll wear the sweater.”
    Helen was
getting very sleepy, but she wasn’t about to lose the challenge. So she managed
to keep her eyes open until the movie was over, although it was touch-and-go
there at the end.
    She went to bed
happy, looking forward to seeing Cyrus in his sweater the following day.
    It might not
have started off well, but it was a pretty good Christmas Eve after all.

Fourth
Christmas Eve
    five
years ago
    Cyrus wasn’t having a very good
day, but at least it wasn’t snowing.
    That morning,
as he’d been wrapping up the final tasks he needed to complete before a few
days of vacation over the holidays, he’d gotten pulled into a four-hour meeting
about how to deal with an emergency situation at one of his father’s plants.
His father had left for Clarksburg the previous day, so he’d told Cyrus to take
care of the crisis for him.
    Cyrus had been
working at the executive level in his father’s company for seven months now,
ever since he’d finished his MBA. The position had been created just for him,
so at first he’d filled a mostly empty role, but a few months ago he’d started
pushing his father to give him some real work to do, which his dad had taken as
an invitation to dump any tedious, tiresome, or unwanted jobs on his son.
    He’d completed
them all without complaining, and he was satisfied he did them well. He wasn’t
surprised his father was testing him, to see how deeply he was committed and
where his limits and boundaries were. Cyrus was determined to make himself
indispensable. If that meant managing a four-hour meeting on Christmas Eve day
when he’d been planning to drive out to Clarksburg, then so be it.
    He liked the
work—the real work and not the empty tasks he’d been given at first. And, while
he wasn’t fool enough to start believing his father really liked or respected
him, at least they’d been getting along better in the last few months than they
ever had before.
    He’d already
been running late when he returned to his place to get ready to go, and then
he’d had an awkward conversation with a woman he’d gone out with a few times.
He’d thought there might be potential there, but his feelings for her were
definitely cooling. He’d been trying to let her down easy. Only she didn’t want
to be let down at all.
    When he’d
finally gotten off the phone, he’d been tired and frustrated. He spent most of
the drive mentally composing a proposal for a new project he wanted his father
to invest in.
    At least the
sky and the roads were clear, so he didn’t have to focus much on his driving,
and he started to relax when he pulled his car into the garage.
    Dinner
shouldn’t be bad, since he and his father had been on pretty good terms lately.
He could spend a relaxing, companionable evening with Helen, without any
pressure or stress, and tomorrow he had the day off.
    Hi mood had
recovered by the time he walked into the house—only to be greeted by silence.
    He frowned.
Usually Helen was waiting for him and would run up to greet him with a hug,
except when she was mad at him or was caught in a snowstorm.
    He knew she
wasn’t angry with him right now. They’d talked on the phone the previous day,
and she’d seemed excited about his visit.
    He shrugged off
the strange lack of greeting and took his bag up to his room. He checked
Helen’s bedroom on his way back down, but she wasn’t there.
    He found his
father in the study, sitting by the fire, listening to Puccini at a

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