Monday, December 19, 1955
It’s early in the morning and Carter is worried that he and Nick won’t be warm enough for their Christmas trip to Vermont.
Nick, for his part, is wondering if they will ever be able to return to the big pile of rocks he’s finally come to love. An exile in France isn’t the worst thing in the world but still…
But before they can get much more than halfway from San Francisco to Vermont, they discover that the mob is after them and is on their tails, chasing them across the country as they take planes, trains, and automobiles.
They finally get to Vermont, all covered in freshly-fallen white snow, and begin to wonder if it will be their last Christmas, after all.
I opened my eyes. The room was dark but there was a bit of street light coming in around the edges of the curtains. Carter was standing next to the bed, looking down at me with a grin.
“Time to get up.”
I groaned. “I don’t wanna.”
“I know, son. You can sleep in the car.”
With that, he pulled back the covers. The room was chilly and I just wanted to go back to sleep.
“Come on,” he said, pulling on my arm.
I stood up and hugged him. “This is one of those times when I wish we were there already.”
“Where?” he asked as he ran his hands over the back of my head.
He didn’t say anything for a while. As we stood there in the dark, I could feel myself getting sleepy again.
Finally, he said, “We could take a plane from here to New York. We don’t have to go to Vermont.”
“Is that what you want?”
“No. I wanna have Christmas with all our family.”
He laughed. “Yes, even Roger. I changed my mind about him at dinner last night.”
I sighed. “Me, too. I love him. And John, too.”
“It would break my mama’s heart if you weren’t there for Christmas.”
I sighed again. “She loves you, too.”
“Yeah.” He didn’t sound convinced.