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Khex is going to laugh so hard at me. I grab my tea and gulp it down, grimacing. I’m not even sure Devin likes me. A kiss means nothing, as I’m well aware. I glance over at her, wondering if this new revelation is evident on my face. I’m a terrible keffing liar, as I’ve been told a dozen times before by the other custodians.
She’s…sopretty.
There’s something about her that makes Devin seem lit up from within. It’s her smile, I think. Whenever she directs it at me, I feelrewarded. More than that, it’s her caring heart. She just wants happiness for everyone around her, even if it’s a rodent or a neighbor that tries to push her away.
Of course I’m falling for her. It makes total sense.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
For once, I’m tongue-tied. I have no clever—or stupid—words to say. I just shrug and take a gulp of my tea. “So how long do the presents stay under the tree before they’re ready?”
“Ready?” Devin laughs. “Ready for what?”
“You tell me. It’s your holiday. Why do we put them under the tree anyhow?”
She pauses for a moment, thinking. “I actually have no idea. Liesje?”
The older woman shrugs. “Tradition.”
“There you go,” Devin says, putting her hands on her hips and nodding as if this answers everything. “Tradition.”
“Does tradition say I get more cake?” I ask, eyeing Liesje. “Because I’d like more cake.”
“I should have baked more than one. I had no idea you’d arrive so hungry.” Liesje gets to her feet and heads to the kitchen. “But there is always more cake for a hungry man.”
The moment she leaves the room, Devin hugs her knees to her chest and scowls at me. “Quit laying it on so thick,” she whispers. “You’re being ridiculous.”
“Laying what on so thick?”
Her hands flap in the air and she affects a ridiculous low voice that has to be mimicking mine. “Oh, I’m so hungry. No one ever feeds me. Let me eat you out of house and home.”
I throw my head back, laughing. “I don’t sound like that.”
“Yes youdo.” She rolls her eyes at me, but her smile returns. “You’re acting like you’ve never had cake before.”
“I’ve had something similar,” I say. “But never as a treat for a holiday. And Rektar’s wife brings things to the office, but no one ever creates delicious things for me. So if Liesje wants to spoil Sinath, he is very happy to be spoiled.”
“He’s also happy to refer to himself in the third person,” Devin grumps, but her expression grows thoughtful. She hugs her knees tight again and studies me.
ChapterEleven
DEVIN
After yet another round of cake, we take turns opening presents. To my surprise, Liesje has also made me a hat. Hers is knitted and the one I made for her was crocheted, but we have a good laugh at the fact that we’re thinking along the same lines. I wear mine and Liesje puts on the pom-pom disaster I made for her atop her head and fusses over the potholders I made. I can tell she’s pleased even if she says she has no use for them.
Sinath is delighted to get “horn warmers” and puts the cheery tassels I made for him on the tip of each horn. He’s equally thrilled with his “matching” sock, which makes Liesje break out into laughter.
Liesje presents Sinath with a long, sweeping scarf, one that seems far too long and time-intensive to be made in the last few days. When I give her a questioning look, she just shrugs. “Seemed like a shame for it to go to waste, and this fool probably heads out into the snow a lot.”
“Not if this fool can help it,” Sinath tells her agreeably. He winds the thick scarf around his neck and then gets to his feet, hugging Liesje. “It’s perfect.”
She blinks repeatedly and then swats at him. “Go sit with your woman. I’m too old for you.”
With a smirk, Sinath moves toward me and sits at my side on the floor. We’re crowded near the small tree, since Liesje’s place is still full of boxes and things she hasn’t bothered to unpack. I don’t mind, though. There’s something cozy about snuggling inside the small, crowded house with friends while the wind howls outside.
Then it’s time for Sinath’s gifts to be given out.
He watches with ill-disguised excitement as we unwrap present after present from the general store. There’s a self-heating bowl I’ve been eyeing, three different kinds of candles and soaps, spices of all kinds, a packet of seeds to grow flowers, and a bolt of fabric that changes colors randomly. For me, there’s a few skeins of bright, soft yarn, and I clutch them to my chest with happiness bubbling in my heart. “How did you know what to get us? This is amazing.”
