Page 73 of The Santa Rules
“Oh, I’m counting on it,” she says over her shoulder.
“Are we ready to go?” Isaac asks excitedly.
“Where are we going?” Avery asks, matching his energy.
“Well, Butterfly, today is the day that we do random acts of Christmas kindness.”
“We call them RACKs,” Bella says, doing a little shimmy with her chest that makes her tits jiggle.
“Mom, I told you to stop making that joke,” Isaac groans.
“It’s fine. Everyone appreciates a good RACK.”
“I know I do,” I say, raising my hand.
“You two are gross,” he says, rolling his eyes.
“What’s gross?” Avery asks.
“Nothing,” the three of us say in unison.
We load up into my truck as Bella changes the radio to a station that plays only Christmas music. When I turn to look at her, she has the biggest smile on her face, and it nearly takes my breath away. She is so fucking beautiful, inside and out.
“What’s the plan, Bells?”
She shakes her head at the mention of her nickname, making the bell on her Santa hat jingle. “Every year, we spend a day doing random acts of Christmas kindness. When Isaac was little, we would do one a day. As he got older, that wasn’t always practical with our schedule, so we decided to make it one day.”
“Yeah, but we still do other RACKs when we can randomly,” Isaac pipes up from the back seat.
“What do these RACKs entail?” I ask.
She reaches into her bag and pulls out a stack of cards. “First, we’re headed to the local nursing home to hand out Christmas cards and candy canes to the residents. I had my students make enough for each of the patients. The holidays can be lonely for a lot of them, and we want to make sure they get a visit from someone, a card, and a treat.”
“Can I hand out the candy canes?” Avery asks.
“I got you, Butterfly,” Isaac says, and I watch in the rearview mirror as he hands her several boxes of candy canes.
“This is a tradition we do every year, and I thought it might be fun for you to do with Avery in the future.”
Something twists in my gut at her words, at her implication that this is something I would do alone with Avery next year. Everything we’ve done together this year has been special because of Bella and Isaac, and I want to continue these traditions with them next year and for many years to come.
I barely have time to dwell on that thought before she’s giving me directions to the nursing home. We spend a couple hours passing out cards and candy and even play a few board games with the residents.
When we stop for lunch at a drive-thru, we pay for the people behind us, and just after we’ve finished our food and are driving to our next RACK, Isaac starts shouting.
“Trash cans! Mom, I see trash cans.”
“I’m going to need you to flip a bi—” She looks in the back seat at Avery and corrects herself. “Make a U-ey. We’ve got trash cans.”
I do as I’m told. “What am I missing? What’s so special about trash cans?”
“This was one of Isaac’s favorite RACKs when he was little. We would walk through the neighborhood on trash day and bring in people’s cans. It was free and easy, and he was obsessed with the garbage truck back then.”
I pull into the neighborhood and end up staying in the truck, creeping along as the three of them run up the street pulling in cans.
After every house is complete, Bella pulls out a few small bags of coins, and we head off in search of vending machines to tape them to with notes about paying for their drink.
We’re sitting in the truck as Avery and Isaac run out to tape a few on the machines when I pick up one of the bags and look at the card printed in it. “Did you make these?”
