Page 42 of Grinchland
I drummed my fingers on my thighs as I waited for her to finish. When there was a lull, I started to ask her if she was done yet, but she wasn’t. She had two more sets of questions to make sure that I hadn’t joined a cult and I hadn’t lost a bet. Once she was satisfied, she continued. “I think it’s a good thing. You’re participating in a sort of detox.”
I frowned. “I may not care as much that the mayor doesn’t like Christmas, but that doesn’t mean I’m finished with it.” I decided to keep my little spinout with the decorations around the tree in the living room to myself. No need to add fuel to Abbie’s flames. I could only imagine her reasoning as to why fewer decorations were better.
“Well, it’s a start.” Then she paused. “Maybe that’s what Grinchland can be. A place where the most Christmas crazed among us can go to rehab!”
“Okay, Abbie,” I said, knowing she couldn’t see I was rolling my eyes, but making sure that she’d understand the tone of my voice.
“My name is Clara, and I am addicted to Christmas,” she joked.
“I’m hanging up now,” I said, pulling the phone from my cheek and letting my thumb hover over the big red button.
“I love you, friend!” Abbie called out in a singsong voice.
“Love you, too, friend,” I said as I hung up.
I set my phone down next to me on the couch and stared at it, Abbie’s words repeating in my mind. There was a truth to what she said. When I was in Winter Springs, Christmas was my life. I lived and breathed the holiday. But here, in Grinchland, I was forced to step out of my traditions and look around. I was forced to see things differently. I was forced to see things not through Christmas lights and decorations, but to notice the simple parts of the holiday.
I was forced to enjoy the smallest of Christmas moments.
I shook my head, feeling crazy for letting myself digest Abbie’s theories to this degree. Christmas was Christmas, and I’d always participated in the holiday just like everyone else.
I didn’t need Christmas rehab, and I certainly didn’t need to detox.
Abbie’s words still plagued my mind when I woke up the next morning, but I did my best to push them from my mind. I had a day’s worth of teaching followed by the next holiday-themed activity with Silas, so I needed to get my head on straight and focus.
I dressed and was out the door a little earlier this morning. I told myself it was because I was trying to be a better employee—getting to the school early instead of right on time—but deep down, I knew the real reason.
I just wasn’t ready to admit that reason out loud.
I was sitting at my desk as students started to filter in. I’d kept my door propped open, and I justified that decision by telling myself that it made my room look more inviting. I wanted every student to feel like my door was open both physically and emotionally.
“Hey, Mayor.”
The greeting made its way into my room, and my heart picked up speed as I moved to stand. There was no other reason I walked across my classroom and out the door—I wanted to see Silas.
He was standing in the hallway with Isabelle by his side. He was trying to get her to give him a hug, but Isabelle wasn’t having it. As soon as he saw me, he straightened, his expression soft as he met my gaze.
“Hey,” I said, my voice all hushed and shy. I inwardly cursed myself for being so transparent.
He didn’t give me a full smile. Instead, it was this half smile that took my breath away. “Hey,” he said.
I held his gaze a little longer until I started to scream at myself that if I didn’t stop staring, he was going to suspect that something was wrong with me. And even though something was most definitely wrong with me, I wanted to keep that a secret for as long as I could.
“Are there any plans for tonight?” he asked. There was a hopeful hint to his voice that threw me off.
“Um, I’m not sure.” And that was the truth. I’d spent the whole morning trying not to think about Silas, so I hadn’t allowed myself to think of activities for us to do.
He nodded. “Let me know.”
“Of course.”
“Daddy, it’s time for you to go,” Isabelle said as she reached up and grabbed her backpack, which was slung on his shoulder.
He glanced down at her and then back up at me. “This will never get easy,” he said as he allowed her to pull her backpack down and shove it into her locker.
“I bet.”
Isabelle didn’t wait for me to guide her into the room, and seconds later, it was just the two of us in the hallway. I knew I should tell him goodbye and head into the classroom, but I wanted to linger just a few moments longer.
