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“Fair warning, you might want to make it your thing, because Evie’s already talking about taking you to Christmas Town. She was so excited when she realized you moved in after Christmas last year. It’ll be your first one, won’t it?”
“My first . . . wait. What is Christmas Town?”
I stop with my mug halfway to my mouth and stare at him, jaw slightly dropped.
“What?” he says, mildly annoyed. “This is clearly something you think I should know.”
“I mean, yes. Definitely. It’s what Creekville is known for. People have been getting ready for this since October. Noah proposed to Grace at Christmas Town two years ago.”
“None of that tells me what it is.”
I set my mug on the coffee table and lean forward. “It’s a town-wide tradition. The Friday before Christmas Eve, the town square is turned into Christmas Town. And it’s full of booths from local clubs and shops selling holiday stuff. Good food, cool toys, and gifts. It starts with a parade right at sunset. High school band, the Cub Scouts, all of it. The mayor rides in the first car, then she gets to this platform at the front of the square and waits for Santa. He’s last in a sleigh, with real reindeer and everything, and then he—”
Henry doesn’t look right. His face has gone blank, and he’s staring off into the distance. Wherever his mind is, it’s not here.
“Henry?”
He doesn’t answer me. Maybe he has a fear of parades the way some people fear clowns?
“Henry,” I say, this time scooting toward him on the couch, ready to snap my fingers in front of his face or check his pulse or something.
He turns to look at me. “Sounds nice. I guess it’s pretty late. I shouldn’t keep you any longer.”
He starts to push himself off the sofa, but I reach up to catch the soft sleeve of his shirt. “Henry.” He sits down. “Why don’t you tell me why you hate Christmas?” I ask gently. “Like therealreason. I feel like there’s way more to the story than I’ve heard so far.”
“I don’t hate it.” He says it with the force of habit, like he’s learned that this is the socially acceptable line, so he repeats it, but he doesn’t believe it.
“You do. I’d like to understand why.”
“It’s nothing. Forget it.”
There’s never been more of a “something” than the way he just said “nothing.” I get the feeling there are very few people he talks to about important things. I have Noah as a sounding board whenever I need him, and I’m more and more comfortable going to any of the Winters women about things. Sometimes all people need is a listening ear. I have a feeling Henry hasn’t found one of those in a long time, but if I push right now, he’ll close off more.
I don’t like it. I like the relaxed version of Henry I’ve gotten to know, the one who cracks sly and unexpected jokes, who quietly shows up to meet a need I didn’t know was there, like an invitation to hot cocoa at the end of a long day. I want to repay the favor. That’s what friends do.
“You’re an interesting guy, Henry. Complicated.”
He shakes his head as I scoot back to my corner. “People always think that because I’m quiet, but I’m not that much of a mystery.”
You definitely are, I think but don’t say. “You have more layers to you than I expected after that first day in front of my house.”
He smiles slightly at that. “More layers than ‘grumpy curmudgeon’?”
“Yes. You’re not old enough to be a curmudgeon. You need at least thirty more years. But they’re really interesting layers.” I lean against the arm of the couch and consider him. The jokes. The intuition when someone around him needs something. Those were two of the unexpected layers. But there are still more. Fitness buff hiding a rocking body. Shy guy who’s crushing on the school hottie. Conscientious teacher who isn’t dialing it in.
“You should let more people see you,” I tell him. “That’s going to be a big part of Project: Makeover. Letting Lulu—”
“Leigh,” he corrects me.
“Whatever. Letting Office Goddess see more of you.”
“Is there some type of formula to follow? I don’t try to act any one way. I’m just me.”
I cock my head. “You think so? Do you talk to her as easily as you do to me? Joke around? Help her with stuff?”
“Not exactly. But that doesn’t feel normal with her. It feels normal with you.”
This makes my stomach flutter, which causes me to frown and forge ahead. “This is what you need to let Lulu see.”
