Susan Wiggs - Candlelight Christmas

That, at least, was gratifying. Toward the end of his marriage, Logan had let himself go, not bothering to pay attention to his diet, forgetting to exercise. Once he emerged from the fog of divorce, he’d taken out his frustration by mountain-biking, rowing on the lake, scrambling up rocks and mountainsides. He’d embraced single fatherhood with a vengeance, studying nutrition and cooking as if his son’s life depended on it. Cool that Daisy had noticed the improvement.

“Charlie had a great time at Camp Kioga. Be sure he tells you about all his adventures.”

“I will.”

Julian was already loading things into the car. Daisy’s stepmother, Nina, came out on the porch and gave Logan a wave. She had a baby of her own, a little boy about a year old. One big happy family. Logan felt like a chump, standing there, a complete outsider, his connection to the Bellamys now so tenuous. There had been a time when he’d come here for holiday gatherings, dinners and picnics on the lawn. Now his only role was to hand over Charlie and walk away.

“Um, so Julian got new orders,” Daisy said. Her gaze shifted from side to side, then to the ground.

Logan still knew her well enough to read nervousness in her manner. “What’s that mean?”

“We’re moving.”

“Why do I sense this is not good news?”

“The new assignment’s Yokota Air Force Base.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Where the hell is that?”

She swallowed visibly. “It’s in Fussa. Er, that’s in Japan.”

“Fuck.”

She winced, and he didn’t even bother to apologize for the profanity. To Logan, the real profanity was losing his son.

“The custody arrangement will still work the same,” she hurriedly stated. “He’s with you holidays and summers. It’s just...the travel time will be longer.”

“That’s great, Daze. Just freaking great.”

“There are daily nonstops from Tokyo to the States. I checked. We’ll make it work, Logan. I swear we will.”

He shot a glare in Julian’s direction. As an officer in the air force, he had an exciting career. Good for him. But not so good for Logan and Charlie. “When?” he demanded.

“Right after Christmas break. Charlie will go to school on base. He’ll learn a new culture, a new language. I’ve already found him a tutor to give him Japanese lessons. He’ll see a whole new world over there. It’s an amazing opportunity for him.” She spoke hurriedly, enumerating the advantages as if she’d memorized them, one by one.

“More amazing than spending time with his dad?”

“You’ll still have him for the same number of days.”

“Have you told him yet?”

“No. We will today.”

Logan raked a hand through his hair. “Jesus.”

“We need to make this a positive thing for Charlie.”

“Right.” Composing himself with an effort, he went to say goodbye to his son. He walked over to Charlie and sank down on one knee. “I sure had a great time with you,” he said. “What an awesome summer.”

“Yep. Um, can you keep my paddle? There’s no room to take it with me.”

The kid had no idea that he was destined to move half a world away. He’d probably have to leave a lot more behind. “Sure. I’ll keep it safe for you, buddy.”

Charlie stared down at the ground. His chin trembled. “Thanks, Dad.”

Goodbyes were always the hardest. Logan’s job was to assure his son that everything was perfectly fine—even if it wasn’t. “You’re going to have the time of your life in fifth grade, buddy. And you’ve got a new little sister to play with.”

“I guess.”

“We’ll talk every day,” he said. “Just like always.”

“And I’ll see you at Thanksgiving.” Charlie’s effort at being positive was heartbreaking.

“Indubitably.”

“And then we’ll be together at Christmas.”

“That’s right. Maybe we’ll have Christmas in Avalon instead of Florida this year. I could get us season passes at Saddle Mountain. Maybe I’ll just get us the whole resort.”

“Okay.” A tremulous smile curved Charlie’s mouth.

Logan took the little boy in his arms. Despite everyone’s exclamations over how he’d grown, Charlie felt so small and fragile. He was being taken away to the other side of the world, where Logan couldn’t see him or touch him, inhale the little boy smell of him, lie next to him while he fell asleep at night. “I’ll miss you, buddy.”

“Me, too.”

“Okay. One more kiss and a hug.”

A big squeeze. Logan pressed his lips to his son’s warm, silky red hair. “So long, pal.” He pasted on a smile and pretended a piece of his heart was not being torn out. Then he stood up and headed for his car. At the edge of the parking lot, he turned and watched Charlie and his other family bustling around. Just for a moment, Charlie paused and looked back. He offered a big smile, and then their special salute, index finger and pinky in the air as if at a rock concert. Then Charlie turned back to the family and was swept into the business of leaving.

The hole in Logan’s chest felt as big and jagged as the Grand Canyon.

“Fuck,” he said again, and without thinking, broke the painted paddle in two.

“You look as if you could use a friend,” said a voice behind him.

He swung around. Darcy Fitzgerald was walking toward him, carrying an overnight bag. “Or an anger-management class,” she added, eyeing the broken paddle.

“Just handed my son off to his mom,” Logan said. “Never the best start to the day.”

“I’m sorry. I know it’s hard.”

Hell no, she had no idea. He wasn’t going to argue with her, though. “I’ll deal,” he said, picking up the pieces of Charlie’s paddle, the paddle he’d promised to safeguard. To change the subject, he asked, “You’re going back to the city?”

“That’s right.” She tilted her face to the sun. “Hard to leave on a day like today.”

He kind of hated it that Darcy had come upon him in such a vulnerable moment, his emotions raw from having Charlie ripped from him.

“India said Charlie lives part-time in Oklahoma.”

“That’s right.”

“Must be so challenging for you.”

“Every time I say goodbye to Charlie, it kills me a little bit.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I need to get going,” he said.

“Back to work?”

“That’s right.”

“So, your sister said you’re in business for yourself?”

She was probably just making polite conversation. But her question annoyed him. Maybe she was fishing for information on him. Did he have a steady, stable job? Was he a good prospect? A catch?

Some devil made him reply, “As a matter of fact, I’m just about to change jobs. That local ski area I mentioned? I’ll be taking it over.”

He had no idea where those words had come from. Probably the idea had been simmering on the back burner of his mind for a long time. But all of a sudden it was the truest thing he’d said since telling Daisy Bellamy, “Let’s have the baby and raise it together,” eleven years ago.

Hearing a guy declare he was going to take on such a risky enterprise was bound to send a woman running for cover. Trying to make a living by running a ski resort was like betting on horses or playing the lottery.

Darcy’s reaction was the last thing he’d expected. “That’s awesome,” she said.

“Awesome as in a wise investment, or awesome as in bat-shit crazy?”

She laughed. “Depends on who you ask.”

“I’m asking you.”

“Why? Does my opinion matter?”

Not really, he thought. There had been a time, long ago, when he’d put great stock in opinions—of parents, teachers, coaches. There had been a time when his father’s opinion had mattered so much that Logan had lost himself. He could admit that now. He had been lost in some mythic quest for perfect—on the soccer field, in school, in business.