Miles to Go by Richard Paul Evans Page B

flying home until school gets out. So I’m grateful to have friends to make me feel thankful.”
    “Amen,” Nicole said.
    “How about you, Bill?” I said.
    He looked down at his plate as he gathered his thoughts. Then he looked up at all of us, his eyes eventually landing on Nicole. “Since I lost my June, I’ve been pretty lonely. So I guess I’m a bit like Christine—I thought this was going to be another crummy day alone with my memories. Thank God there are people like you, Nicole, who would include an old man in your festivities.”
    “It’s been my pleasure, Bill,” Nicole said. She took a deep breath. “I guess it’s my turn. Last Thanksgiving I was in a hospital bed, alone and going through the most difficult experience of my life. This day I am grateful for all of you. You’ve said such kind things. You don’t know how muchit means to me. I’m especially grateful that Alan came into my life at this time.” She took my hand. “I thought I went to the hospital to help you. I didn’t realize that it was for me. Thank you for not leaving me like everyone else did. Thank you for caring.”
    I looked deeply into her eyes. She continued. “Today I am mostly grateful for life. It seems we’ve all had tough years lately. I don’t know about you, Christine, but the three of us have all lost someone we’ve loved. But as hard as the last few years have been, I’m still grateful for them. I’m grateful for the good days I’ve had. There haven’t been too many of them lately, but I have hope that there will be more to come. I hope that’s true for all of us.”
    Christine’s eyes were beaming and Bill looked like he was getting emotional or about to. I raised my glass of eggnog. “Here, here.”
    Everyone else raised their glasses and we toasted.
    “Now let’s eat before we all die of hunger,” Nicole said.
    I stood to serve the turkey and we began dishing out the food.
    “Angel, would you please pass me the mashed potatoes?” Christine asked.
    “She’s going by Nicole, now,” Bill said.
    “Oh right. Sorry.”
    “Angel was a nickname,” Nicole said. “But I’m through with it.”
    I looked at her proudly.
    The meal was delicious and the conversation kept up, covering a broad range of topics from the origin of mincemeat to where we were when the Space Shuttle exploded.
    The sum of the day was truly greater than its parts. The four of us loners talked and laughed like old friends, likewe hadn’t a care in the world. Maybe, for that moment, we didn’t.
    We all did the dishes, even Bill, who claimed that under his wife’s regime, KP was his job. When the kitchen was clean, Bill hugged Nicole. “Thank you.”
    “You’re not staying for the movie?”
    “No, I think I’ll just retire. But thank you for everything. It was a wonderful meal. I had a most enjoyable time.”
    “You’re very welcome,” Nicole said. “We should get together again.”
    His face lit. “I’d enjoy that immensely.”

    The three of us watched
It’s a Wonderful Life
. Christine spent most of the evening with us but left before the movie was over. She hugged both of us and set a date to go out with Nicole.
    Jimmy Stewart was on his knees begging for life when there was a knock at the door. Nicole stood. “Christine must have forgotten something.”
    “I’ll pause the movie,” I said.
    “That’s okay. I’ve already seen it a million times.”
    I glanced over as she opened the door. I couldn’t see who was in the hall, but I heard a man’s voice. Nicole said something then glanced back at me. “Alan, it’s for you.”
    “For me?”
    She took a couple steps toward me. “It’s your father.”

CHAPTER

Twenty-two
    My father came. No matter what he said, his search for me spoke louder.
    Alan Christoffersen’s diary
    I looked at Nicole in disbelief. “My father?”
    She nodded.
    I got up from the couch and walked to the door. My father stood in the hallway wearing his Los Angeles Lakers windbreaker.