Page 41 of Grinchland
I pulled into Clara’s driveway to drop her off. She pulled on the door release and hopped down to the ground. Just as she turned to shut the door, she paused and glanced up at me.
“I had fun,” she said, her gaze turning shy as she studied me.
I knew I should tell her that I hated it. I knew I should tell her to never take us to a place like that again. I knew I should have just kept quiet.
Instead, I offered her a genuine smile and said, “Me, too.”
EIGHTEEN
CLARA
I was too jittery to go to bed. After Silas dropped me off, I showered and got dressed in my Santa-falling-down-a-chimney pajamas and got started making hot potato casserole—a Gran tradition after ice skating. With a full stomach and the softest pajamas known to man, I should have felt ready to snuggle up on the couch under my this is my Hallmark watching blanket blanket, and fall asleep to A Christmas Story, but no matter how hard I tried, I had too much energy.
Maybe it was just adrenaline from ice skating. Or maybe it was the anticipation for the new week of teaching. And maybe—this was probably the most likely—something had shifted between Silas and me.
I’d gone from thinking he loathed my guts to thinking he only mildly hated my guts. That was progress.
In desperate need of a distraction from these ridiculous thoughts, I decided the best course of action was to pour my energy into decorating Isabelle’s tree with ornaments. I took my time picking the perfect ones from the box I’d saved and only hung the most valuable ones on the branches. The ones that I cherished.
After I finished decorating, I took a step back. The tree was perfect, but there was something wrong. It didn’t look right. I tipped my head to the side. Maybe if I looked at it from a different angle, I’d figure out what wasn’t working.
“It’s Santa,” I said as I stepped forward and grabbed the three-foot Santa figurine I’d placed next to the window the other day. I moved him to the other side of the room and then turned to see if that solved the issue.
Something was still wrong.
I gathered the five Christmas gift boxes that were wrapped in plaid fabric and progressively got smaller, and I moved them over to where I’d put Santa. The three-foot nutcracker was next. Then the sleigh full of pinecones. I didn’t stop until the only thing that remained in the middle of that wall was the Christmas tree.
I stared at it, tapping my chin. Was that it? Was that the issue? I closed my eyes and a sense of calm and peace passed over me. I took in a deep breath as I opened them again. Even though this was the first time I’d ever left a wall this bare in my life, it was…perfect.
I settled down on the couch and pulled my blanket over my lap. I turned on the TV and found A Christmas Story and snuggled deeper into the cushions.
I was halfway through the movie when my phone rang. It blared “I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas”—Abbie’s ringtone,
“Hey,” I said as I pressed the green talk button and brought my phone to my cheek.
“Hey, friend! Just checking in to make sure you’re still alive.”
I smiled as I leaned back against the couch again. “I’m alive.”
“How’s things going with the Grinch?”
My gaze drifted over to Silas’s house. The penguin he’d agreed to put up in his front yard was still there with the ridiculous sign that he’d added. The lights from the inside shone in the darkness. Where it once looked sad and dark, it had begun to feel homey—despite the lack of other decorations.
What was happening to me?
“He’s good. I’m good. We’re good,” I said as I pulled my attention from the window and stared at the paused movie on the screen.
“You’re good?” Abbie asked. “You’re living in a place that has outlawed Christmas, and you’re…good?”
“Well, not that. I just don’t…mind as much anymore.”
When Abbie didn’t respond right away, I realized that I’d made a mistake. She was never going to let me live this down.
“Do you have a fever? Take your temperature.”
I sighed.
“Have you been kidnapped? Hurry, what’s your favorite Christmas movie of all time?”
