Page 27 of Under the Mistletoe
Devin pulled a packet labeled Barlows from her bag and handed it to Heather. “And here are all the activities. Don’t stress. If the Secret Santa becomes a problem, let me know and we’ll help. We just want to make sure each kid gets a gift.”
“You’ve thought of everything.” Heather flipped through the packet. “Are the events where we can drop off the kids like the race, or do we have to stay with them?”
Ideally this would provide a time for the Barlows to connect and bond with the Wallis kids, but rest and respite were good too. “Whatever works best.”
Easton’s brow wrinkled. “I’m not going.”
Mrs. Barlow’s eyes closed a moment, then she blinked at Easton. “Let’s wait and see. You may change your mind.”
Before he could respond, Logan walked over and offered him a fist bump. “I hope you do. I’ll be there, and it’d be more fun to have you three there.”
He would?
A genuine smile brightened Alani’s face as Easton glanced at Logan and nodded. “Maybe.”
At least it wasn’t a no. Maybe that was all she could hope for at this point. Logan and Devin made their way out to the car and back to their silence. Fifteen minutes later, Logan slowed the Bronco as they neared the town. The Christmas lights were starting to come on, highlighting the rooflines of the old Victorian homes.
“Did you really only get three books every Christmas?”
Devin startled at the words. Logan’s voice was low, but compared to the silence she’d become used to, it seemed to echo in the vehicle’s cabin.
She cleared her throat. “Three every year. And they weren’t even wrapped. It wasn’t environmentally responsible.”
“They could have at least put them in a gift bag.” He stopped at the corner of Teft and Henderson and looked both ways.
The town was already quiet with the exception of a few couples who were walking in the square and enjoying the Christmas lights. One young couple who sat on Otis’s back seemed to be sharing a secret. White lights now trimmed the gazebo and schoolhouse. She could just imagine the rant her parents would have for the added waste of electricity. She glanced at Logan. “Gift bags were a waste of money.”
“Did you have a tree?”
“Nope.” She pushed down the uncomfortable feeling. It was much easier to not feel sorry for herself when he didn’t pick it apart like that. “Actually, I did set up a tree one year. I found a fake one that a neighbor was throwing away. I made all the ornaments out of recycling, not to be wasteful, and even tried to light it the old-fashioned way with candles so I didn’t use extra electricity.”
“Oh no.”
“Oh yes. The fire department was involved.”
“Did your parents at least appreciate your effort?”
She released a humorless laugh. “If by appreciate you mean ground me because the fireman had soaked some important work papers of my dad’s, then yes. They appreciated me for a whole month.”
“What about a stocking?” He eased through the intersection and pulled along the curb in front of her rental. Two houses down, Luke’s kids were bundled up and attempting to make a snow fort in the light of the porch.
“My parents didn’t do most things associated with Christmas. They said they saw no need for it because they weren’t raising me on lies of religion or commercialism. It wasn’t until college that I went to church for the first time.” She needed to stop this before she unveiled any more of herself. “Enough about me. Your turn to tell an embarrassing Christmas story.”
He stared straight ahead. “I’m not so good with the talking. I’m better at the listening.”
“So, what made you go to church the first time?”
Her phone vibrated, and she picked it up to read the text. “One second.”
She didn’t need to check the text now, but she needed to keep herself from another emotional deluge. Because admitting how lonely she’d been was not a conversation she wanted to have right now.
Mrs. Smith
Vicky and Tory can’t make it to skating. They have a supervised visit with their mom that was just scheduled.
Devin sighed and pocketed her phone. “Of course they did.”
She must have read the text out loud, because Logan lifted his brow. “Aren’t supervised visits a good thing?”
