Total pages in book: 19
Estimated words: 16684 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 83(@200wpm)___ 67(@250wpm)___ 56(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 16684 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 83(@200wpm)___ 67(@250wpm)___ 56(@300wpm)
"Hey, Dad," I say, "just in time for supper."
He stomps off his boots covered in snow and pulls off his thick flannel coat, hanging it on a hook by the back door. His knit hat is covered in snow too, and he takes it off, revealing his thick wavy gray hair. He has never dated since my mom died, but it’s been a dozen years, and he is a catch. I wonder if he is lonely like I am.
"It's pretty windy out there," he tells me.
I smile. "Maybe we'll have to drive to mass tonight."
"Maybe," he says. "But I think the wind will die down and we can still walk over. It's just a few blocks. And it’s tradition to walk there, all bundled up."
I nod. "That's true."
My sisters tumble into the kitchen, all looking beautiful, dressed up in their Christmas Eve finest: velvet dresses, hair all curled, their makeup done perfectly.
"Well, I missed the memo on putting on a pretty dress for dinner," I say, looking down at myself. I'm in a corduroy jumper and a white turtleneck. I suppose I still look like I'm a nun in some ways. Sparkle, though, is going to school to be a beauty esthetician, and she always looks glamorous with her lash extensions and acrylic nails.
Sparkle must notice what I’m wearing. "Okay, can someone make the salad? I'll be back in a second with Miracle. She needs..."
Lovey and Clover laugh.
"A makeover?" I roll my eyes.
"Be nice to yourself. You just always put yourself last," Lovey says gently. The youngest of the four, she managed to avoid the stereotypical selfish stereotype. Instead, she is nothing but generous.
I laugh. "I just never think of putting on cute clothes like you girls."
Dad chuckles. "Well, I think you’re beautiful no matter what you're wearing, Miracle."
Clover grins. "Yeah, but she's looking for a man. She's not going to find one like that."
"That's not true," Dad says as I walk out of the kitchen with Sparkle. "It's what's inside that counts. And thankfully, Miracle has a heart of gold. Any man that ends up with her is one lucky bastard."
3
SILAS
When I push open the front door, I am flooded with the familiar scents of Christmas at home. Mom’s apple cinnamon candle is burning on the entryway table, and the freshly cut pine tree is in the living room a few feet away, all lit up and decorated with the ornaments I made when I was a little kid.
Mom walks out of the kitchen in an apron and a look of surprise on her face. “Silas, what on earth are you doing here?” She walks toward me as I set my duffle bag on the floor, her arms wrapping me in a warm hug.
“I got leave and wanted to surprise you and Pops.”
“Henry, come in here. Silas is home!” Mom calls to my dad.
He walks in from the garage a minute later, grinning and reaching out to give me a big hug. “Son, you sure know how to make your parents happy.”
I am an only child, and I know that having me here means a lot. I also know that in about ten minutes, my mom will already be asking if I have met anyone special.
“We were just about to eat before midnight mass. Are you hungry?” Mom asks.
I follow her and Pops into the kitchen. “When am I not hungry?”
“Fair enough,” Pops says as he helps by carrying a platter of roast ham to the table. I grab the basket of rolls, and Mom pours us all sparkling wine.
“It’s a celebration, after all,” she says with a twinkle in her eyes.
As we sit to eat, Mom pipes in with the question I was expecting. “So have you met a special someone?”
“Darla, the boy hasn’t even taken a bite of food yet,” Pops says with a heart laugh, then adds, “But have you?”
I play along good-naturedly. “You know I have never dated anyone. If there was someone, you’d be the first to know.”
“But you are twenty-two, Silas … It seems like the time to go out there and find a girlfriend.”
“Mom, I was out to sea for the last four months. And that isn’t changing any time soon. Who would want to be in a long-distance relationship like that?”
“The right lady would be willing to wait for you,” she says.
“Well, if I meet her, I will be sure to let you know.”
“You know who I always thought you would make a good couple with?” Pops says.
“Who is that?” I ask with a smirk, taking a bite of mashed potatoes.
“Miracle Lane,” he says.
I nearly choke. Can this man read my mind? “Miracle Lane? Don’t we seem like opposites?”
Mom laughs. “Complete opposites. Not to mention she is off being a nun, last I heard.”
Pops, though, shakes his head. “No. I saw her dad, Hank, at the diner the other morning. She moved back home a few weeks ago. I guess living in a convent didn’t suit her.”