"Absolutely. But I have somewhere I want to take you both." The words slip out before I can second-guess them. "It's so much better than just going to a parking lot."
"Why does it sound like this just got a lot bigger than picking out trees together?"
"It's just over the border, in St. Mary’s, Georgia. I think three-ish hours drive. My grandfather used to bring me there when I was little. I googled to make sure it's still a thing, and it is. They turn the whole town into a Christmas village for the season. Tree farm, lights, cocoa. The works."
"Three hours? That's a long way to drive to get a Christmas tree, Warren."
"It's worth it, trust me. Think: fresh-blown snow, hot apple cider, horse-drawn sleigh rides between the pines. It's a whole vibe." My heart pounds with excitement. "Beckett would love it."
"I don't know if that's a good idea. That's six to seven hours of driving today. I'm not sure I have it in me."
"We'll stay the night. Let me see if I can find a cabin."
Another pause. I can practically hear her weighing everything in that methodical way of hers.
The silence stretches so long I think I've lost her. Then comes a soft exhale.
"Okay. See if we can find a place to stay."
That single word, 'okay,' hits me like a physical force. "Yeah?"
"Yeah. It sounds neat." Her voice softens. "He'd love that, Warren."
I pull up VRBO while we are on the phone and lock down a two-bedroom cabin five minutes outside of town. We make plans to leave in about an hour, stopping for breakfast on the way. Simple logistics that are somehow monumental.
After we hang up, I stand motionless in my kitchen. The spilled coffee has dried into a sticky residue, but I don't care. We're going on a trip. Together.
One perfect day. Our son. The three of us.
Like a family.
"Warren!Mom says we're going to see REAL snow!" Beckett bounces into the back seat.
"Yep. Can you believe it? South Georgia snow?"
Janie slides into the passenger seat, her hair pulled back in a messy ponytail. She looks younger, more relaxed. Beautiful in a way that makes me tingle all over.
"Morning," she whispers, eyes still sleepy.
"Morning." The word catches in my throat.
Before we even get out of the driveway, Beckett's voice fills the cab with non-stop questions.
"Will there be elves? Can I throw snowballs? Are we getting BIG trees or little trees? I think colored lights are prettier, but Mom says the white ones look like stars. What do you think, Warren?"
I glance in the rearview mirror, meeting his eager eyes. "I've always been a colored lights guy myself. But I like all Christmas tree lights."
"See, Mom? Warren knows."
Janie laughs, the sound warming the space between us. Her arm brushes mine as she turns to answer him. Something electric pulses through that simple touch.
The miles slip away. Beckett finally dozes, leaving a pocket of quiet where our hands find each other. Deliberately this time.
"Thank you for this," Janie murmurs. "I don't remember the last time I saw him this excited."
I swallow hard. "I have a lot of missed adventures to make up for."
Her fingers find mine, just for a moment. "We're here now."