AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Maybe our souls were fused together months ago. Back on the night when we first met and he shook my hand, smiled my way, and told me he was excited to finally meet me.
Back on the night he first kissed me, a leap of faith off a high ledge. The little moments in between; scrambled eggs done just the way I like and talking on the phone until the early morning, neither one of us wanting to be the first to hang up.
“You’re smiling,” he says against my lips, and I can feel him smiling, too. “What are you thinking about?”
“You,” I say. “Me. Us.”
“Us, huh?” Shawn fixes my hat, making sure it’s snug on my head and covering my ears. He straightens my jacket, his hands fumbling with the zipper as he pulls it up toward my chin. I think he’s trying to find any excuse to touch me. “That sounds promising.”
“I think it could be.”
There’s a tap on the glass. Shawn’s dad waves through the window, a kind reminder that we’re on a tight schedule.
“We should go,” Shawn says. “Lots more presents to deliver.”
“We’ll come back to this?” I ask.
“Yeah.” He nods, a promise in the bob of his head. “We will.”
I unbuckle my seatbelt, climbing out of the car and into the bitter cold. The wind has started to die down as sunset approaches, but it’s still hard to breathe. I hurry to the trunk and we grab the row of presents for the Whitaker family, double checking to make sure we have all the boxes and bags.
Shawn leads us up the stairs toward the door and knocks. He rests his hand on the small of my back, and the same nervous energy rolls through him like it did for all the other houses. I look up at him with the Santa hat on his head, and I can’t help but grin.
God, I’m head over heels for this man.
The door opens, and a little girl with red curly hair pokes her head out. Shawn steps away from me and crouches down, his jeans rubbing against the wood as he gets on her level.
“Hi, Clara. My name is Mr. Shawn. Is your dad home?” he asks, his voice gentle and kind.
He’s greeted everyone—every kid, every adult, every second cousin who lives in the basement—by their first name, a feat I’m still trying to figure out. It took me fifty houses to realize there’s a laminated spreadsheet in the truck, a list of all the people he’d encounter today, so he knows how to approach them.
So goddamn perfect.
“Yes,” the little girl says, and I see the war in her eyes. A strange man is standing on her porch with gifts, and she doesn’t know what to do. Hell, I would’ve slammed the door in his face ten seconds ago. “I’ll get him.”
There’s the pitter patter of little feet disappearing, and I rub Shawn’s back with my free hand. He clasps his palm in mine and squeezes tight while we wait. Soon there are voices, growing louder as they approach the door.
“Can I help you?” a man asks. He uses a cane to walk, and it takes him a minute to fully open the front door. “We don’t want to buy anything.”
“Hi, Derek. My name is Shawn. This is my girlfriend, Lacey, and my dad, Michael,” he starts, and my heart turns to goo when he calls me his girlfriend. “We’re with Operation Give Back, an organization that partners with businesses in the community to provide gifts for local families.” His eyes flick to Clara, the little girl wrapped around her dad’s leg and hiding behind his thigh. He smiles at her, and she smiles back. “Your daughter wrote a letter to Santa asking for a new Barbie dream house. Santa is a little busy getting everything ready for Christmas, but he sent us to deliver some presents.”
“Santa sent you?” Clara whispers. “All the way from the North Pole?”
“Mhm. He told us you’ve been doing very well in school, and you like to share your toys with your little sister. Is that true?” Shawn asks, and she nods.
“Some kids at recess have two toys, but Lily and I only have one. I don’t want her to not have anything to play with, so we share,” Clara explains, and she steps out from her hiding spot. “I don’t mind that we play together. It’s more fun than playing alone.”
“I agree. Giving up your toys so someone else can have them is a very nice thing to do,” Shawn says. “Santa wants to give you some more toys to share.”
We bend down and set the stack of wrapped boxes and bags on the porch. They’re taller than her, almost three feet high. She tugs on her dad’s pant leg and points at the gifts.
“Look, Daddy,” she whispers. “Christmas magic.”
“I’m sorry, but we can’t—there’s no way for me to pay for these,” Derek says. “I’m out of work after an injury and her mom—” he pauses to take a breath, and his eyes fill with tears. “Thank you, though.”
“They’re free, Derek,” Shawn says. “We want you to have them.”
“What’s the catch?” he asks slowly, and Shawn chuckles.
