Page 30 of Grinchland
FOURTEEN
CLARA
A good night’s sleep did nothing for the confusion I felt after Silas clammed up and skedaddled from my house. I thought he was having fun. After all, I had been having fun. How could I not? I was watching the classic Christmas movie, Elf, I was stringing popcorn for my next tree, and all my decorations were finally out of their bins.
For Clara Snow, that was a quintessential December night.
Silas might not have been enjoying himself, but he had definitely been tolerating it. There were even a couple of times here and there when it felt like Silas was complimenting me. Understanding me. Speaking to me in a way that no one had spoken to me before.
Then it all came crashing down. Suddenly, he was scooping up Isabelle, rushing through my house, and disappearing out the door like Santa running late to drop off presents.
There was no explanation for his hasty exit, and I was left wondering what the heck had just happened.
So I went to bed. Gran always said that things made more sense in the stark light of morning. But as I lay on my bed, staring up at the ceiling that was softly illuminated by the Christmas tree in the corner, I was still at a loss.
Silas’s sudden shift didn’t make sense.
Maybe he was the kind of guy that had a hard limit. Once he got to a certain amount of Christmas joy, he was done. He’d been moments away from overheating and needed to return to his dark and cheerless house to cool down.
I nodded. “That’s it,” I said, trying to convince myself, even though I knew, deep down, I was wrong.
I didn’t want to acknowledge it, but I knew what the true explanation was. He’d seen a little too much of my crazy and had had enough. It happened every time I tried to let someone in. They either tried to change me or left without a word.
Silas was no different.
I groaned as I grabbed a nearby pillow and covered my face with it. Even the men who were forced to spend time with me couldn’t stick around. I shook my head against the soft fabric. I was going to die alone.
My plan for the day was the only thing that forced me out of my funk, off my bed, and into the shower. Once I was clean and fully awake, I shut off the water and grabbed a towel. After I dried off, I wrapped the towel around my body and stepped out onto the plushy bathmat with Merry Christmas written in cursive.
I settled on a plain green sweater and a pair of dark jeans. My plans included Isabelle, and I didn’t want my obnoxious Christmas clothes to be the reason Silas rejected my ideas. He said Isabelle couldn’t participate in Christmas-related activities. The things I had planned didn’t have to be categorized as Christmas.
I was excited to spend the day with that little girl. I almost cried yesterday when I saw her outfit. The fact that she’d mimicked me was the best compliment anyone had ever paid me. Ever.
And the fact that Silas let his daughter pick such an outfit even though he was vehemently opposed to Christmas…well it endeared him to me a tad bit more.
It was hard to want to take him down when he could be so sweet with his daughter. Why couldn’t he just be a grinch to everyone? It would make hating him that much easier.
After blow-drying my hair and applying some makeup, I turned off my lights and headed out into the kitchen, where I grabbed a granola bar and a Christmas cookie. I was chewing while I slipped on my boots, and I finished off my cookie before I pulled on my jacket and tied my least Christmas-looking, yellow scarf around my neck.
I shouldered my purse and headed out the door. When I passed by my garage, I slipped inside to grab Pudgie.
The sun’s rays were peeking through the branches as I made my way up Silas’s walkway. It was such a shame that he hated Christmas. His house was just begging for some decorations. He really had the perfect place for it. It was every Christmas fanatic’s dream.
“Such a waste,” I whispered as I climbed the front steps.
I had to knock a few times before the door opened. Isabelle stood there in a Princess Tiana nightgown, and there was a dusting of what looked like flour across her nose. Her hair was pulled back into a braid, but a night of tossing and turning had matted up chunks of it.
“Ms. Snow!” Isabelle exclaimed as she stepped to the side to let me in.
“Hey, sweetie,” I said as I glanced around, not sure if I should wait until Silas invited me in. “Your dad home?”
She glanced behind her toward what I could only assume was the kitchen. “Yeah,” she said as she started to walk away from me.
Not knowing what to do, I stepped into the foyer and turned to shut the door behind me. “Can you let him know that I’m here?” There was no way I was going further inside without being invited.
“Belly, that was not okay.” The door to the right past the staircase opened, and a flustered, shirtless Silas came walking out. His hair was disheveled, his jaw was unshaven, and his chest…
Crap.
