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“What kind of boat was it?” Knox asked.
“That’s hardly the point,” Madeleine said.
Knox shrugged. “I’m just curious.”
“A big one. With a staff,” Blake said. “But I just wanted to wake up in my own house on Christmas morning and have what I thought of as a normal Christmas.”
“Poor dear,” June said, clucking. “You’re with us now, so don’t you worry.”
Blake flushed, but I could tell she was pleased to be included.
Ivy went on to the next one. “‘Dear Santa, I am writing to ask you to bring my friend Luci a dollhouse. She wants the one in the display window of Murphy’s but she would never ask for it because it’s too expensive. I don’t need anything. Not really. But if there is any room left in the budget, I would like the four Harry Potter books. I would share them with Rhett and Jack and read them to Luci.’”
“Classic Holly,” Rhett said. “Always thinking of everyone else.”
“Did you get the books?” Blake asked.
“I did, yes,” Holly said. “And I kept my word.”
“We read the you-know-what out of those books,” Rhett said, his gaze on Holly.
“She read them to me too,” Luci said. “We’d curl up on our saggy couch, remember?”
“I do,” Holly said smiling. “You always loved books.”
“All right, just a few more,” Ivy said. “‘Dear Santa, I would like a guitar please. P.S. If you can only bring one big present to our house, bring Luci’s. She’s perfect and always good but you probably already know that. She would like the dollhouse on display at Murphy’s Toy Shop.’”
“Santa needed to get the memo about that dollhouse,” Beck said.
“He didn’t,” Luci said, laughing and wiping her eyes at the same time. “But I’m touched that all of you cared that much about me.”
My heart ached, thinking of small Luci peering at the dollhouse through the window, knowing it would never really be hers.
“Okay, here’s our next one,” Ivy said. “‘Dear Santa, Thank you for the piano lessons last year. I’m getting better every day. I would like headphones so I can listen to music without anyone knowing what it is.’”
“Were you listening to the devil’s music? Is that why you wanted the headphones?” Knox asked, deadpan.
“According to my mother, that’s exactly what it was,” Beck said. “And, by the way, I did not get the headphones. It was a grand piano instead.”
“No way,” Holly said. “For real?”
Beck nodded, sheepishly. “It sounds so pretentious.”
“I’m with your mother on this one,” June said. “All good mothers pay attention to what their children are listening to.”
“Thankfully, we always had country music playing,” Ivy said.
“My mother only allowed classical in our house,” Beck said. “Thus, the headphones.”
“You had the ultimate revenge,” Knox said. “Joining up with us outlaws.”
Beck nodded, smiling, but his eyes were sad. “Sure did.”
“Okay, one last one,” Ivy said.
I sat up straighter. I was the only one left. Surely my mother hadn’t kept anything like that?
Ivy’s sweet voice read what could only be my letter. “‘Dear Santa, I would like a drum set. And some sticks. Please don’t tell my dad.’”
