Page 49 of Grinchland
Silence fell between us as Silas drove. I settled back in my seat and allowed us to just be. There was no need for talking. There was no need for explaining. We had both lost someone important to us. It was a pain that many didn’t understand.
And there was nothing more that needed to be said.
I was surprised when I saw the sign for Georgetown. I allowed myself to hope that he was taking me here for the one reason I’d come here in December. And when he pulled into the parking lot of Mistletoe Meadow, the Christmas lights display in Maine, I cheered. But when I realized my reaction might deter him, I slapped my hand over my mouth and turned to him, my eyes wide.
Silas just chuckled and shook his head. “I figured you’d react this way,” he said as he waited for a yellow VW bug to pull out of a parking spot before he promptly took it.
Just as he turned off the engine, I stuck my arm out, stopping him. “Wait. Are you telling me that you’re voluntarily taking me here?” My eyes were wide as I stared at him.
Silas shifted in his seat so he could face me. “I’m voluntarily taking you here,” he repeated.
I frowned. “What? Why?”
He glanced at me and then out the window toward the Christmas lights twinkling above. “You shared your traditions with me. I figured I’d share one with you.”
My eyes bugged from my head. “You have Christmas traditions?” I narrowed my eyes. “Are you a closeted Christmas fan?”
His lips were flat as he studied me. “I don’t have Christmas traditions, but I grew up in a family that did.”
I glanced toward Mistletoe Meadows. “This was one of them?”
Silas pulled on the door release and started to climb out of his truck. “This is one of them.”
Pure joy raced through me as I scrambled to open the door. Nothing could have prepared me for how it would feel to have the Grinch of Grinchland tell me that he wanted to share a Christmas memory with me. It was like I’d been given the biggest gift of all time, and there was no way I was going to waste a second of it.
I was going to soak up this moment for as long as I could because I knew that Silas had a limit. I didn’t know when his patience for doing something that was this steeped in Christmas would expire.
I was surprised when we got to the entrance booth and Silas pulled out his wallet to pay. I didn’t say anything as he took the tickets and walked me through the front gate. I kept quiet as he started to guide me around to the displays and told me about them.
I felt like I was in some sort of Christmas twilight zone. My eyes felt dry because I refused to blink, fearing that if I did, this would all go away. This moment was so strange, and yet it was also so right. There was no way I was going to miss it.
I knew Christmas was powerful, I just didn’t realize it was this powerful.
I almost fainted when Silas stopped at the hot chocolate vendor and offered to buy me a cup. I decided to press my luck and ask him if he was going to get one too, fully expecting him to shut me down, but to my surprise, he shrugged and said yes.
With our cups of cocoa in hand, we proceeded to the next display.
“Isabelle would love this one,” I whispered as I stared at the lights that had been twisted into the image of an ice-skating couple. He was behind her and they both had their hands outstretched like they were moving in sync with one another.
“She would love this,” Silas whispered from behind me.
Shivers raced down my spine as I tipped my head ever so slightly to the side so I could see where he was. He was no more than an inch behind me. Even though he wasn’t touching me, I could feel him standing there. The warmth of his body emanating to mine.
I wanted to read into his position. I wanted to think that he wanted to be close to me, that he just might care for me like I was beginning to care for him.
Was that possible?
“You should bring her here sometime,” I said before I really thought about what those words meant.
When he didn’t respond, guilt coated my chest. Why had I spoken? Why did I have to ruin this magical moment? I just wanted Isabelle to be happy. That girl wanted Christmas so bad, and I couldn’t understand why her father was so resistant to let her experience it.
“It’s not that I don’t want to.” His words were soft and broken.
I turned to face him. His gaze was downturned and his shoulders were slumped. I wasn’t sure if I should speak, so I just settled in so he could talk.
“I’m scared I will lose my daughter just like I lost my wife.” He shifted the hot cocoa cup from hand to hand. “That can’t happen. I will break.”
I studied him. I couldn’t understand what it was about Christmas that had such a chokehold on him, but I wanted to help. I wanted to fix what had happened. I wanted to show him that it was just a holiday. It didn’t have the power that he seemed so convinced it had.
