to the earlier animosity.
“Is Allison up?” Zach asked.
Eddie frowned and shook his head. “Do you want me to set the table for dinner?”
“Can we have breakfast first?” Zach mumbled, although he was beginning to share his son’s enthusiasm.
“Do we have to?” Eddie whined. “I want stuffing. It’s my favorite part of the dinner.”
“Mine, too,” Zach confided. Rosie might have her faults as a cook, but she did make the most incredible dressing. His mouth started to water before he remembered that Rosie wouldn’t be stuffing the bird this year. Albertson’s would.
While Zach showered, shaved and dressed, Eddie watched the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade on television. Zach was pleasantly surprised to find Allison awake and sitting in the family room. She lounged on the sofa with her bare feet braced on the edge of the coffee table while she leafed through the newspaper.
“Morning,” Zach greeted her, uncertain what to expect in response. It was a day-today struggle with his daughter.
Her reply was half growl and half human. Zach had suggested a truce over the holiday, and Allison had agreed, but she’d let it be known that she was doing him a big favor and he should be grateful.
“What are you reading?” he asked, sinking down onto the sofa next to her. If Allison was willing to make an effort, then so could he. He held a cup of coffee in his hand and had half an eye on the television screen.
“The ads.”
“Advertisements?” Zach asked, her answer catching him off guard.
Eddie raced into the kitchen and returned with a huge bowl of cold cereal. Milk sloshed over the edges as he lowered himself to a cross-legged position on the floor. Zach was about to send him back to the other room, but he didn’t feel right being so strict with his son on a holiday. Eddie could eat in the family room this once, despite the rules.
“Tomorrow’s the biggest Christmas-shopping day of the year,” Allison informed him, continuing to turn the pages of the flyers, scanning each one with care.
These flyers didn’t mean a lot to Zach. He hated shopping. Rosie was the one who purchased all the Christmas gifts. He dreaded the thought of even entering a mall. Last Christmas he’d asked Janice to buy Rosie’s gifts for him; not only had she done a decent job, but she’d wrapped them, as well. His gift to Janice had been a cash bonus, a generous amount—not a personal gift but a practical one—and he’d figured that as a single mother, Janice could use the extra money at Christmas. It still rankled that she’d resigned.
“Mom and I used to read through every single ad,” Allison said absently.
This information wasn’t exactly life-changing. Women enjoyed that sort of thing, he guessed.
“It was fun.”
He shrugged, not understanding the sadness he heard in his daughter’s voice. This was beyond him. If she wanted to get all sentimental over a bunch of advertisements, he’d let her.
“You don’t get it, do you?” Allison sobbed, her eyes swimming with tears.
“What?”
“Mom and I used to go shopping. It was our tradition. We had fun. I loved picking out my clothes for Christmas, and Mom was great about finding exactly what I wanted on sale.”
Zach was sorry, but he still didn’t get it. “You can go shopping with your mother in the morning if you want.” More power to them, as far as he was concerned. Then, thinking he’d add a bit of levity to the situation, he said. “Eddie, your mother and Allison can go shopping tomorrow, can’t they? We don’t care.”
“Sure you can go,” Eddie told his sister.
In response Allison hurled down the newspaper and stormed out of the room.
“What did I say?” Eddie asked. He picked up his bowl and drank from the edge, making loud slurping noises.
“I don’t know,” Zach muttered. He’d better go find out what he’d done that had warranted this reaction.
He discovered his daughter lying across her unmade bed, weeping her eyes out. Zach sighed. Sitting on the edge of her bed, he placed his hand on Allison’s shoulder. She jerked away, telling him in no uncertain terms that she found his touch repugnant.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said.
Allison curled up tightly. “Go away.”
“I can’t.”
“Why can’t you?” she demanded between sobs.
“Because I love you, and it hurts me to see you so unhappy.” Zach was sincere about that.
“You don’t love me.”
“Allison, you’re wrong. You’re my princess, don’t you remember?” He’d called her that for years, until she’d asked him not to when she reached thirteen. Every now and then, he forgot.
Allison rolled onto her back and stared up at him, red-faced.
“What is it about the newspaper ads that upset you so much?” he asked gently.
His daughter sat up and ran the back of her hand under her nose. “Mom said we can’t go shopping tomorrow.”
“Why not?” Zach didn’t understand why Rosie was breaking such a beloved tradition, especially when it meant so much to Allison. They were looking for a way to build a bridge with their daughter, not blow it up!
“Mom said there wasn’t any money for Christmas this year because of the divorce.”
Zach wanted to groan out loud. He was hurting financially himself. Maintaining two households, paying off what he owed the attorneys, plus covering the cost of Rosie’s summer courses, had left him dry.
“I’m sorry,” he said, meaning it.
Allison’s lower lip trembled as she nodded. “I know you are, but that doesn’t change a damn thing, does it?”
Zach had to agree she was right.
At noon, when Eddie couldn’t wait a moment longer, Zach drove to the grocery store and picked up their Thanksgiving feast. Allison had all the serving plates and bowls out when he returned.
“We don’t need to dirty those,” he said, thinking of all the extra dishes they would create. The dishwasher could only hold so much.
“We can’t serve mashed potatoes out of a plastic container on Thanksgiving Day,” Allison protested.
“Sure we can,” Eddie insisted righteously. “Come on, Allison, you’re holding up the stuffing.”
Zach’s teenage daughter rolled her eyes and surrendered.
With great ceremony Zach unloaded the box. The turkey was browned to perfection
