Page 57 of Grinchland
“Just open the door,” Todd said with an exasperated tone.
“Okay, okay.” I reached out and turned the door handle.
I wasn’t sure what I thought Todd was going to show me, but an entire basement full of Christmas decorations that would have rivaled Gran’s collection in its prime was not on my bingo card. I didn’t know where to look first, and I felt like I was a kid in a candy store, just standing there, gaping.
“You’re…” I was struggling to catch my breath. “You’re a…” I turned to stare at Todd, whose smile mimicked that of a dad on the day of his child’s birth. “You’re a closet Christmas-er.”
He frowned, drawing his eyebrows together as if he were thinking about what I’d just said. “I, um, I wouldn’t call myself that.”
“Oh my gosh! You have the Hallmark Santa of 1995?” I asked as I sidestepped a life-sized Rudolph to pick up the coveted glass Santa that took Gran three years to finally get her hands on.
“Yep. Found it in a flea market in Jersey a few years ago.”
I reverently turned it around in my hands a few times. “Oh! Where did you find the complete Tinson Hall reindeer set?” I set the Santa down so I could give my full attention to the tiny tin reindeers in front of me. Gran passed before she ever got her hands on even one.
“That was a gift from my aunt.”
I glanced up at him. “It’s beautiful.” Thoughts of my own pieces back in Winter Springs made my heart ache. So many memories were wrapped up in those items. I missed them. I missed Gran.
I sighed as I glanced around. It was such a shame that Todd was forced to hide all of these things. “Too bad you live in Grinchland. These pieces deserve to be showcased.”
Todd studied me before he shrugged. “You don’t know the full story, do you?”
I paused as I flicked my gaze over to him and then back down. “About Nicole?”
“Nicole and Isabelle.”
I paused at the mention of Silas’s daughter. I knew bits and pieces, but not the full thing. And it hurt that Silas didn’t want to tell me. “I know some things.”
Todd reached out and grabbed a porcelain teddy bear and transferred it from one hand to another. “Nicole was the biggest Christmas fiend that I’d ever met. Her decorations rivaled Whoville. She was constantly dragging Silas all over the place in search of the next hot item. On Christmas Eve three years ago, there was an accident. Silas and Isabelle were in the car.” Todd paused. “Nicole passed away.”
My heart broke for that little family.
“But it wasn’t just that. Isabelle went from a happy, chatty two-year-old to not speaking for months. Silas took her to every psychologist he could to get answers. She finally came around, but the consensus was to keep anything that had to do with that night away from her.”
“That’s why he banned Christmas.”
Todd nodded. “How could we say no to a grieving husband and a terrified father? If it protected Isabelle, we, as a town, would do whatever we could.” He paused. “And maybe we thought, after a few years, he’d realize that she was safe and bring it back.” His gaze met mine again. “When you showed up, I thought for sure you’d be the person to help him see the sun and get him out from under his dark cloud. It seemed to be working until…”
“The play.”
Todd nodded. “The play. Now I fear he will never repeal the ban and we’ll be stuck Christmasless forever.”
“Do you think Isabelle was slipping back to the silence?”
Todd shrugged. “I don’t know. But Silas won’t ever take another chance.”
I glanced around before blowing out my breath. “What do you want me to do?”
“I don’t think there’s anything you can do.” He glanced around as well. “I guess I just thought you should know the full story. Maybe it would help you understand the history of Grinchland. The history of Silas.”
I studied the floor for a moment before I glanced up to meet his gaze. I didn’t know what to do with the story he’d told me. Not when I was pretty certain that Silas hated me. Whatever we had was over, even if I wanted things to be different.
“Thanks for sharing this with me.” I narrowed my eyes. “I knew I had another Christmas aficionado on my hands.” I shook my finger at him. “I was right.”
He chuckled. “You were.”
I spent the next fifteen minutes picking up rare Christmas decorations and gushing over the fact that he’d located them. His cheeks reddened with pride as he relayed the story of how he acquired each one. By the time I left, I was sad that I was leaving Grinchland. Todd and I had become fast friends.
