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“Thank you.” My chest went warm and tight like my white dress shirt had shrunk in the wash. A self-made man. I supposed it was accurate. My tax return identified me as self-employed, but I didn’t often frame my success as one of determination and grit. Perhaps I needed to start.
“Ready to go, Aunt Christine?” Miss Christine’s sixty-something niece strode over. Like her aunt, the niece had white hair and a diminutive stature.
“Me? Leave my party early?” Miss Christine’s voice was strong and stubborn, belying her advanced age. “Never.”
“It’s starting to snow pretty heavily.” The niece gestured at the windows as well as the thinning crowd. “Everyone else is about to head out too.”
Miss Christine gave a regal sniff. “Well, I suppose you can fetch my coat and gloves. But I’ll take one more turn around the room, say my goodbyes.”
With the niece’s assistance, I helped Miss Christine to her feet, which were clad in elf slippers complete with curly tips, and I fetched her candy cane-striped walker. The two ladies made their way from group to group as people readied to brave the increasingly ominous weather.
As I cleared more plates, one of the older kids came up to me. A girl in that indeterminate zone between eleven and fourteen or so, she had long, fine dark hair and purple glasses.
“Hey, Zipster—I mean, Zeb.” She gave a shy smile, revealing a neat row of colorful braces. “Brian said you told him how to level up on the new Space Villager expansion.”
“Yep. You want the same intel?” I looked around for a pad of paper to write the secret codes on, but the girl shook her head.
“Nah. I’d rather watch my brothers play while my sister and I write fan fiction about our favorite game characters. I wanted to say thanks because your channel is the only thing the four of us can agree on, and you always make us laugh.”
“Thanks.” I could talk for hours and hours to no one while streaming, yet suddenly, I found myself at a total loss for words. “That means a lot to me.”
“Will you sign this?” She held a notebook with a hand-drawn cover featuring a grisly scene and a big, bold title of The Villagers Fight Back. “It’s the first draft of my latest fic.”
“I’d be honored.” It took a few deep breaths, but I managed to sign without turning into a blubbering mess. I did, however, need a moment to collect myself after the girl walked away.
“Seems like you were pretty popular this afternoon.” Last of the guests gone, Atlas wandered over to where I was stripping table linens.
“I suppose.” My face heated, but I shrugged because I didn’t want to put too much stock in a few autograph requests.
“Don’t be so humble.” Atlas gave my shoulder a friendly shove. “You were the highlight of the afternoon for those kids. I spoke with the mom of that group of four with all the B-names that kept following you around. Her husband is deployed right now. Said your content is the perfect distraction.”
“Oh wow.” I’d finally managed to calm myself earlier, but now I was emotional all over again. It might not be much, but I was doing something of value with my content. “I wish I could do something for them.”
“A little Christmas magic?” Nix came striding over. “Did I hear you talking about Brent Maurice’s family? He and Belinda graduated the same year as my older sister. What if we used some of the leftovers here and packed up a Christmas breakfast for them for tomorrow? I can deliver it on my way home. I need to leave soon to beat this weather.”
With the three of us working together, we quickly packaged a festive box full of goodies for the family. Atlas undoubtedly thought he was being sneaky, but I caught him sneaking a wad of cash into a card. I added some game download codes and printed off a gift card for the most popular game-purchasing site as well.
As Nix departed, the skies darkened further, the storm worsening, and I said a quick prayer that they could complete their mission and arrive home safely.
“Well, that’s a wrap.” Gabe emerged from the shop area, keys dangling from one finger. “All locked up. We’re almost done with the holiday rush. Just the Boxing Day sale to go.”
“And Atlas and I have that handled,” I reminded him. Paige had had a few false alarms, but all signs pointed to next week being a full-term arrival for the twins. “Tomorrow too. You and Paige need to let everyone else do the meal and cleanup. You’ve got enough on your minds.”
Buzz. Buzz. “Speaking of my lovely wife…” Gabe fished out his phone and stepped away to take the call, returning pale and more than a little gray. “Babies are coming. Paige didn’t want to worry me, but she and Lucy headed into Chester earlier for a fast check that turned into go-time in a hurry. I’ve got to get there.”
