“Can you come sit with me at the table for a sec?”
Something in her expression shifts—just a hair, just enough. She slips off the couch, shuffles over, and climbs into the chair beside mine.
“You hungry?” I ask, even though I know she just demolished a bowl of cinnamon cereal and half a banana.
She shakes her head. Her eyes are too sharp for eight. Too knowing. “Is it Mom? Did you talk to her?”
My throat tightens.
Alright. Time to lie.
“Your mom…” I start, then hesitate. “She got called up for a mission with Santa Claus.”
Her stare hits me like a brick. I keep my face neutral.
She blinks once, long and slow. “Santa’s not real.”
Fuck.
Right. Right. She’s eight, not four. She grew up a lot between the last time she stayed with me and now. I should’ve known better.
I scrub a hand over my face. “Okay. Yeah. Fair point. That was… dumb.”
Her brows pinch in. “Why’d you lie?”
Because I’m scared of breaking your heart. Because you’re a kid and you’ve already had too much uncertainty in your short life. Because the truth feels too heavy to hand to someone with glitter stickers on their backpack.
I swallow the answers and try again, this time with something closer to the truth.
“Your mom and Luke are going on a little trip.”
“Why can’t I go?” Her voice cracks. “Was I naughty?”
The hit is instant. Sharp and brutal.
I reach for her hand and place mine over it. Her fingers are so small against my palm. “Hey. No. Absolutely not. You did nothing wrong. Nothing.”
She stares at our hands, not convinced.
“They just…” I inhale through my nose. “They know this town is special during the holidays. And they want you to have thekind of Christmas that feels like magic. So you’re staying with me for a bit.”
She studies my face, searching for the seams in my story.
Then her shoulders slump. “Okay.”
Not enthusiastic. Not excited. Just… resigned.
Goddammit.
“I’m sorry I lied,” I say. “I didn’t want to confuse you. But the truth is, this place really is incredible in December. And I want you with me. I’m gonna make it fun for you. We’ll have a great time.”
She lifts Frida and shoves the rabbit practically into my face. “And Frida comes too.”
I manage a smile. “Obviously. I wasn’t about to leave Frida behind.”
She pulls the rabbit back and finally nods. A small one.
“Actually…” I lean back in my chair, “how would you feel about a little shopping today? You’re growing like a weed. We can get you some new clothes, then grab lunch, and take Rufus on a long walk.”
