Page 15 of Unwrapped By the Grumpy Mountain Man
"We've been in line for ten minutes already," Silvie informs me, checking an imaginary watch. "Probably another twenty to go."
"That's okay," I say, unfazed by her attitude. "Gives us time to talk."
"About what?" Silvie challenges.
"About what you're asking Santa for," I suggest. "Unless it's a secret."
"I'm too old for Santa," she declares, though I notice she stuffs a folded piece of paper in her pocket.
"Nobody's too old for a little Christmas magic," I tell her. "I still make a list every year."
She looks skeptical but slightly less hostile. Progress.
Lucy tugs at my hand. "What are you asking Santa for?"
I kneel down to her level. "Well, I'm trying to save my mom's house. It's been in our family for generations."
"Where is your mom?" Lucy asks innocently.
"Lucy," Hudson warns gently.
"It's okay," I assure him before turning back to Lucy. "My mom died a few years ago. She got very sick."
"Like our grandma?" Angie asks, joining the conversation.
"Your grandma is sick?" I ask, surprised.
"She died before we were born," Angie explains solemnly. "Daddy says she would have loved us very much."
My heart constricts at the simple statement. I glance up at Hudson, who's watching the interaction with an unreadable expression.
"I bet she would have," I agree. "My mom would have loved you girls, too. She always wanted grandchildren."
"We could be her pretend grandchildren," Lucy suggests brightly.
Hudson coughs awkwardly. "Lucy, that's not how it works."
"Why not?" she persists. "Violet could be our pretend mom, and then we'd be her pretend daughters, and her mom would be our pretend grandma!"
The innocent suggestion warms my heart. Hudson looks like he wants the ground to swallow him whole, while I struggle to find an appropriate response.
"That's a sweet thought," I finally say, tucking a strand of hair behind Lucy's ear. "But for now, why don't you show me your Christmas list?"
The line inches forward as Lucy enthusiastically details every toy she's requested. Angie occasionally chimes in with corrections or clarifications, while Silvie pretends not to listen but clearly is.
Hudson and I find ourselves standing side by side, watching the girls.
"They're amazing," I say quietly. "You've done an incredible job with them."
He glances at me, surprise flickering across his face. "They're easy to love."
"Not all parents find that true," I say, thinking of my own father's struggle after Mom died. "It takes dedication to be as attentive as you are, especially as a single dad."
"I'm not looking for compliments," he says gruffly, but I can tell he's pleased.
"I'm not giving them to earn points," I counter. "I'm stating facts. Those girls adore you, Hudson. Anyone with eyes can see that."
He studies me for a long moment. "Why are you really here, Violet? And don't tell me it's just about the money."
