Free Home Is Where the Christmas Trees Are by CJane Elliott Page A

raise her. He’d said yes, of course, and had moved back to Eugene and into Jan and Rowan’s condo in February.
    He should have gotten a tree this year. Another instance of failing as a guardian. He stopped in front of the door, which Mrs. Alcott opened for him. “Enjoy your tree and your holidays, Mrs. Alcott. Will Eddie be spending it with you?”
    “Yes, he’ll be over, and we’ll have my brother and sister-in-law and some cousins.”
    “It sounds nice.”
    “I’m lucky to have such a wonderful son. He’s a musician, you know, and teaches music.”
    Dex nodded dutifully, despite having heard this same story week after week. Not to mention been shown pictures of Eddie from babyhood on up. “Middle school, is it?”
    “Middle school and high school both. The jazz bands and the concert bands.”
    “A noble profession, and not for the faint of heart.”
    Mrs. Alcott laughed. “He’s so good with those kids.”
    Lifting the plate, he said, “Thanks again for the cookies, and keep up with your exercises.”

Chapter Two
     
    R OWAN TRUDGED along the sidewalk outside of school, laden with book bag, clarinet case, and oversize purse.
    Dex pulled up beside her and leaned over to open the passenger door. “Hey, Miss R., going my way?”
    Her morose expression didn’t alter. She opened the back door and slung her bag and clarinet case on the seat, then climbed in the front. Slam.
    “My ears!” Dex joked. Silence. Rowan clearly was not in a joking mood. “What’s up, Noodle?”
    “Nothing,” she muttered as she pulled out her phone. She studied it, shutting him out.
    Dex suppressed a sigh. He didn’t understand twelve-year-olds. He especially didn’t understand twelve-year-old girls.
    Rowan had been a happy baby and a real cutie-pie as a child. He’d doted on her and they’d always had fun. Patty-cake and peek-a-boo had given way to videogames and bowling, waterparks and laser tag. Then Jan died. And now the poor kid was going through puberty with no mom, just a gay single uncle who had no idea which tampon brand to recommend.
    “Should we get a tree?”
    Silence.
    “Rowan.”
    “What?”
    “Do you want to get a Christmas tree?”
    “I don’t care. Can we get Burger King for dinner?”
    Dex frowned. He’d lectured her enough times on fast food. He was a pretty good cook and tried to follow a healthy diet. “No. I bought artichokes and some salmon for dinner, and we have that leftover brown rice.”
    With a big, put-upon sigh, Rowan went back to her phone, staring at it like it held the answer to the universe.
    But Dex wasn’t put off so easily. “I mean it about the Christmas tree. Didn’t you…. I mean, you guys always had one, right? Maybe it would cheer you up.” He stopped at a red light and glanced over to catch her glaring at him. “Um, or not.”
    “Nothing’s going to cheer me up, Uncle Dex. So don’t even try. It wouldn’t be the same without—” Her lip quivered and she turned to look out the window.
    Aw crap. That went well. “Okay. Well, let me know if there’s anything special you want to do, that’s all.” He caught her nodding as the light turned green. “And on second thought, let’s go to Burger King. We can drown our sorrows in a Whopper and fries.”
    She turned back to him and gave him a tremulous smile. “You’re the best, Uncle Dex.”

Chapter Three
     
    D EX FROWNED at his work laptop, pushed back from the dining room table, and stretched his arms over his head. Charting bored him, but it was the price he paid for doing something he loved—working with people and watching them get stronger and regain their abilities. He’d been glad to find the home health job when he’d moved back to take care of Rowan. After he was done with visits he could do his charting from home, and Rowan didn’t have to be a latchkey kid after school. Being here every afternoon and making dinner for them every night meant he had no social life—okay, sex life—to speak of,