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"True. But you have to admit he does keep upping his game."
“I’ll give him that,” I say, smirking as Dad glances up at the ceiling like he’s being a naughty kid. Then he takes the lid off the Santa-themed cookie jar on the counter and sneaks a cookie or two before Mom comes back, giving me a cheeky grin as he pops one into his mouth then offers the jar to me. I shake my head and giggle, wanting to save room for pudding later. But it's no wonder I've got curves for days since this is my example.
“Cookies are technically a meal, you know,” he says, munching happily.
“How so?”
“Well, there’s flour, which is the basis of bread and pasta. Eggs for protein. Butter or oil which goes into almost every meal. Then here we have oats and raisins that are pretty much the cornerstone of health.”
“What about all the sugar?”
His eyes sparkle as he takes another bite. “It doesn’t count if you pretend it’s not there.”
With a giggle, I head back into the living room, remembering my hot chocolate and granola bar are still there. I quickly down my now-cold cocoa and shove the remains of the bar in my mouth, chewing as I smother the fire so it’s out before we leave.
"All right, Flemings,” Mom calls out as she comes down the stairs. “Let's get going. We don't want to be late!"
“I would actuallyloveto be late,” Dad says, dusting any giveaway cookie crumbs from his sweater as we all meet in the foyer and put on our coats.
"Oh, come on, Dad." I laugh, pulling my woolen hat on my head. "Best Christmas tree yet, remember?"
Mom leans in and sniffs as Dad wraps his scarf around his neck. “Have you been eating cookies beforedinner?” she asks, looking indignant as Dad laughs awkwardly and grabs his keys.
"All right, Team Fleming, let's go. We don’t want to be late," he says, bustling us out the door.
“Did you see him getting cookies?” Mom asks as we trudge through the snow toward the car.
“I didn’t see a thing,” I say, crossing my fingers in my pocket to cover myself for the little white lie.A little cookie before dinner never hurt anyone.
RYDER
I’m one of the last people to arrive at Town Hall, so I remain at the back of the crowd. There’s an air of excitement as the townsfolk murmur and point at the large curtain-covered platform, no doubt hiding the much-awaited Christmas tree we’re waiting to see light up. Apparently—from what my neighbor says—this year's tree is the best yet. And based on the energy of the crowd, I’m pretty sure the whole town believes that. The mayor has pulled out all the stops with decorations lining the main street like it’s Santa’s village, and then there’s an instrument-accompanied choir singingCarol of the Bells.One could say Christmas is really in the air in this town called Christmas. It’s all a bit cheesy for my tastes, but it does bring a slight smile to my face. There’s something about seeing happy people that makes the world seem a hell of a lot brighter than it normally does.
"Ahem, testing…" Mayor Johnson starts, tapping the microphone and causing the crowd's murmur to quiet. "Hello, everyone! Welcome and a happy Christmas Eve to you all! It's lovely to see so many familiar faces, and even more lovely to see some fresh ones this year." Some heads of nearby townspeople turn to look at me. I nod in acknowledgment with a small smile on my face.
"But where's Santa?I wanna see Santa!"A small boy’s voice cries out to the left of me, stealing my attention from the stage and the mayor’s speech. He balls his hands at his sides and looks set to start screaming before a curvy woman in a bright Christmas sweater, and sparkling tights kneels down to comfort him.
"Shh, don't worry, Alex," the lady starts, and just at the sound of her voice, my body perks up.Bella."Santa's coming out soon. He’s just a bit shy, so Mayor Johnson is talking until he feels brave enough to come out. So if we’re really good and listen quietly, you’ll get on his Nice List for sure. I can’t wait to see what presents he leaves under your tree.”
“Do you think he’ll get me Beyblades?” the boy gasps, and I notice Bella’s head tilt up to who I assume is the boy’s mother. They have a moment of silent communication before Bella looks back at the boy.
“I have a feeling he just might! But we have to be extra still like we’re statues while the mayor talks. Do you think you can do that for me?”
“OK.”
“And how about, as a special treat, you and I go ice skating together after the ceremony?"
The boy’s eyes light up. "Can you spin me around like you did last year? Can you? Can you?"
Bella laughs gently, and it’s like music to my previously joyless ears. "Oh, of course."
Seems the Santa tantrum is long forgotten as the boy smiles and holds up his pinky. "You promise?"
"I promise." She links her pinky with his before she stands and ruffles the top of his head. It’s at that point she turns her head toward me, and my heart jumps to a gallop.Bella. My Bella.
Shit. When did that happen?
Her eyes meet mine and her smile grows wider. A low growl emanates from the depths of my being while images of her wearing nothing but a towel cause my pants to feel a little bit tighter. She bobs and weaves through the crowd as she makes her way toward me. And I admit, I almost want to take off in the other direction to save myself—and her—from whatever this is. But my feet remain firmly rooted to the spot.
