Free Home for Christmas by Jessica Burkhart Page A

agreed to do our own thing once we had gotten back to my house around lunchtime. Each of ushad taken quick showers and changed out of our stable clothes. Mom had grilled cheese sandwiches for us and we’d chowed down. Eventually, we’d all wound up chatting in the den. I’d been flopped on the couch reading celeb gossip on my BlackBerry. Then Heather and Alison had joined me. We’d gotten into a long talk about how amazing all of the horses were and how much we wished we could take all of them home with us. Mid-convo, the rest of my friends had wandered into the den.
    â€œWhat’re you guys up to, hon?” I looked up, almost bumping into my dad.
    I motioned to the tray in my hand. “We’re having snacks and hot chocolate in the den.” I smiled and sidestepped him, with Brit behind me.
    I entered the den, passed the tray to Jacob, and surveyed the space.
    Everyone was sprawled on the floor. The Christmas tree lights were on—the only light needed in the room—and the colored bulbs cast a soft light over everything. A fire crackled in the fireplace, and there were enough throw blankets for everyone.
    I sat next to Jacob, our backs resting against the couch. Across from us, Heather and Alison shared a fleece throw.
    â€œThis popcorn is delish,” Paige said. “Thanks, Sash.”
    Dad walked in, stopping in the middle of our ragged circle. “Is there enough light on in here?” he asked. “I can’t see a thing. Can you all see?”
    I looked at everyone. They all nodded at Dad. “We’re good, Dad,” I said. “I can turn on a light if we need it.”
    â€œOkay,” Dad said. He put his hands in the pockets of his gray sweatpants and left the den.
    â€œSorry, Paige,” I said. “The popcorn totally came from the store. You know what happens if I even try to make regular microwave popcorn.”
    Paige giggled and everyone else joined in.
    â€œSasha set the microwave on fire,” Paige said through her giggles. “She didn’t press the popcorn button and just guessed on the timer.”
    Footsteps shuffled down the two steps into our sunken den, and, still laughing, I looked up to see Dad.
    Again.
    â€œSorry,” Dad said. He held his reading glasses in one hand. “I forgot my book.”
    We all munched on food while Dad walked to one of the recliners near the fireplace. He shuffled through a few books, took one, and finally left.
    I shook my head. “Sorry again,” I said, whispering. Ididn’t want to hurt Dad’s feelings if he was close enough to hear. “He’s being weird. I have no clue why.”
    â€œBack to the story,” Callie said. She stretched out on her stomach and rested her chin on her hands. “I need to hear the end of this popcorn saga!”
    â€œYes!” Alison said. “How long did you set the timer for?”
    I sniffed, raising my chin in the air. “I don’t know. As long as popcorn should take. Like fifteen minutes.”
    That caused another round of laughter.
    â€œI bet that nearly made Livvie combust,” Eric said.
    I nodded, thinking of my dorm hall monitor when I’d lived in Winchester. “Yeeeaaaah. She might have banned me from the microwave.”
    Jacob put his arm around me and kissed my cheek. “Thankfully, I’m not dating you for your cooking skills.”
    â€œYou’d starve,” I said. “And—”
    Dad walked past us and peered hard at the fireplace mantel.
    â€œDad?” I asked. “What are you doing? If you forgot something else, do I need to start worrying about your memory loss?”
    My dad ran a hand over his light-brown hair, shaking his head. “You have a few more years before it’s time to worry about that. I’m just . . .”
    Dad trailed off as he kept looking at the mantel. Slowly, I felt Jacob’s arm shift until it was back at his side. I frowned,