Page 17 of Stranded in A Small Town Christmas
Our eyes meet and she must read my mind because her cheeks get pink. But I’m not going to tease her in front of a kid. “I think I’ll go to my room and take a cold shower. Maybe watch some TV.”
Mel had started tugging on Natalie’s hand, but she stops to frown at me. “Why don’t you use hot water?”
“Okay, let’s go,” Natalie says, heading toward the door. “See you bright and early in the morning, Donovan.”
I’m disappointed it doesn’t sound as if she’s going to sneak into my room when her snowflake duties are over, so it takes a few seconds for her words to sink in. “Wait. Bright and early?”
“Tomorrow’s Christmas fair day, and the girls wake up early and very excited about it.”
Something to look forward to after a long, restless night imagining all the ways that kiss could have ended if we’d been alone.
Chapter Eleven
Natalie
* * *
The morning of the Christmas fair is always chaotic, and it seems worse this year. Maybe it’s because I stayed awake too long thinking about that kiss in the kitchen. Then I spent some time working up the nerve to go creeping through the house, only to find there was no light shining under his door.
I didn’t want to wake him, so I went back to bed and laid awake some more.
Because it’s going to be a long day and there will be a lot of junk food later, my dad makes pancakes. They’re very dense and filling, so it will be a while before any of us are hungry again.
When it’s time to go, I find Donovan in the sitting room, standing with his hands in his pockets. He’s looking at the tree and the twinkling lights are reflected in his eyes.
“Do you have one of those magazine trees?” I ask, and he startles slightly. He’d obviously been deep in thought. “You know, the ones that are twelve feet tall and perfectly symmetrical, with tasteful white glass balls?”
“I haven’t had a tree in years.” He smiles. “But if I did, I’d want it to be like this one.”
“A hot mess of mismatched ornaments, some of which are more glue than glass?”
“The story of one family’s Christmases across generations.”
He sounds wistful almost, and the urge to be nosy rises in me. I want to know more about him. I know he has a mom and stepmom. Does he know his biological father? Does he have siblings or aunts and uncles? Grandparents? Why doesn’t he have a Christmas tree if he wants one?
But I can hear my family moving around and heading closer to the front door. If we want a decent spot to see the parade, we need to go. “Everybody’s heading out. We walk, but I know Dad’s boots aren’t a perfect fit. We can take the Jeep if you want, and I’ll park at the fire station.”
“Walking sounds good. Should I unplug this while we’re gone?” I nod and he pulls the plug on the lights.
By the time he gets his boots and coat on, the rest of the family has gone ahead. We take our time, since I know my parents will find a good spot and we’ll just squeeze in with them.
“You all don’t ride on the floats?” he asks. “Isn’t that a thing people do?”
“We used to. Once Mel got old enough to watch the parade, though, my parents thought that would be more fun. Erin will be on the library’s float and Rob—my brother—will be driving the fire truck. But the school chorus will be on the Charming Inn float, and it’ll stop a few times so the kids can sing for the crowd.”
“Good advertising,” he says, sounding impressed.
We join my parents in time for the start of the parade. My dad hoists Elsie onto his shoulders so she can see, so of course Mel talks Donovan into lifting her onto his. She’s bigger than her sister, but the weight doesn’t seem to bother him.
When the fire truck goes by, my brother does a double take at the sight of his wildly waving niece sitting on the shoulders of a man he doesn’t know, and then he frowns at me. I smile back at Rob, and he can see the rest of the family doesn’t seem to have a problem with the situation. I know he’ll be calling my mom the second he parks that truck, though.
After the parade, my family starts discussing which booths they want to hit first. They also want to plan their route around snacks. We have the same conversation and we follow the same path around town every year.
This year, I have other plans.
“Donovan and I are going to go wander,” I tell my parents. When my dad opens his mouth to protest, my mom steps on his foot and I hope Donovan didn’t notice.
Then we’re finally alone to explore the magic of the Charming Lake Christmas fair. Since we all know each other in this town, we’d all decided over breakfast we’d introduce Donovan as the son of my dad’s college roommate. Personally, I thought friend from out of town visiting would have sufficed, but Mom said people would wonder how any of us had made out-of-town friends, so it was easier to go with their story. Maybe she was right, because everybody seemed to accept the introduction without raising any eyebrows.
