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Paxton’s cheeks flush a little.
I smile at him.
He’s trapped.
“Well, uh, I mean, of course my intentions are”—he chokes on the word a little bit—“honorable.”
“So when’s the wedding?” she presses.
He glances helplessly at Dominique. Dominique smiles eagerly. She’s waiting for an answer too.
“Well, you know, we’ve just started dating and we haven’t actually thought that far ahead.”
She narrows her eyes at him. “Hmm. Not sure that’s acceptable. Will I be a flower girl?”
Oh, heck. I don’t want anyone to make promises to this child who’s been let down a lot.
“If I ever decide to get married, I will invite you to be a flower girl, of course,” I assure her. That is not a lie. She will likely just have to wait a very long time. Her own wedding may come before mine.
“How many children are you going to have?” she presses Paxton relentlessly.
He glances at me helplessly. I shrug and hold my hands up and mouth, “You’re on your own.”
Paxton runs his fingers through his hair. “Uh, we don’t know yet.”
“Do you want boys or girls?”
He replies with a pained smile. “I mean, you can’t really control that, so, whatever happens, happens. Boys are great; girls are great. Aren’t they just great, Ruby?”
“Where do babies come from?” A little boy calls out. “My mom says she found me in a pumpkin patch, but I don’t think that’s true.”
Paxton shoots me a pleading look, begging me with his eyes to extricate him.
As if.
“I’ve always wondered that myself,” I say to him. “Where, Paxton? Where do they come from? The grocery store maybe?”
“That’s a question for your mother to answer,” Dominique says to the little boy. “Tell you what, I will have a chat with your mother and then maybe she and I can both talk to you about it, if that’s okay with her. I’ve got some books that talk about it, books that are just for kids, but I have to get her permission first.”
Paxton breathes a sigh of relief.
He’s not out of the woods yet, though. Not by a long shot.
“Is Santa real?” Summer demands.
“Uh... I’m a hockey player,” Paxton says helplessly.
“Well, duh, we know that.” She gives him a scornful look.
“I mean, I’m not an expert in things like Santa Claus.”
“Well, does he still visit you? He didn’t visit us last year.” Summer frowns.
I don’t want her disillusioned, so much as I am enjoying watching Paxton squirm for once instead of me—and I am enjoying it a lot—I step in to help. “Santa gets very, very busy sometimes with so many millions of kids to visit, so maybe he made a mistake. Mistakes happen. But you know what? I actually happen to know for a fact that he’s visiting you this year. And everyone in the Buddy Match program,” I announce. I’m not kidding. I will talk to my sister and Mason, and we’ll make sure it happens.
All of the kids exclaim delightedly. Dominique shoots me a look. If I promise this, I’d better deliver. I nod to her to let her know that I will not let these kids down. “It will definitely happen,” I assure her. “I have inside knowledge. I mean, he might visit here at the Buddy Match program and drop the presents off here, rather than their homes, but Santa will deliver. The Rovers might even visit too. They’re actually very good friends with Santa.”
Cool, cool. My lies are spinning out of control.
