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“Sure. Grab your worksheet.”
“No. I’m wondering if you’re still dating Ask Annie.”
“Oh.” I clear my throat. “Ah, yes, I am.” I cannot have a repeat of a few weeks ago.
“Because she didn’t write about you this week.”
Sam stares around her, listening to my answer. A few others pause their work and listen too.
“Yeah, my mom said that too,” Sam says.
The air exits my lungs with a guest. “Yes, well, she can’t write about us forever.”
“But things are going well?” Rylee asks, not budging from the head of my desk.
“Rylee—science. Go back to your desk, please, and finish your worksheet.”
“Oh, we’re done,” Sam says, holding up their completed sheet.
“He’s right. We’re all done, and I won’t be able to sleep tonight if I don’t know.” Rylee gives me a small shoulder shrug as if my love life is common knowledge for the world. Then again, I guess it is. But I’m ready for that chapter to close. I’m happy Annie didn’t write about us this week.
This is more than a story. This is our lives.
I’m ready to send Rylee back to her seat once more… but then, I really could use someone else’s opinion. I clear my throat and say in a hushed voice, “Ah, Rylee, what do you think about this photo?”
I tap my computer screen and she walks around my desk to see the pictures. She studies the photo my finger is on but then peers at the other three showing on the screen.
“I like this one. She still has that big smile on her face, but you can see the lights behind you better.”
She’s right. That’s the one. Annie and I on the streets of Peaceful Valley with the lights of a life-size nativity shining in the background behind us.
I scratch at my bearded chin. “Thanks,” I tell her before waving her back to her seat.
Before class ends, I’ve sent the photo Rylee chose to the print shop. It’ll be printed and framed and on my doorstep in less than a week. Now for part two of Annie’s Christmas gift…
59
Annie
Iroll out the dough my sister mixed up. I’m going to attempt to be friendlier with my nephews. Levi wasn’t even sure I liked my own family. Clearly, I need to learn to conquer my fear of children and step it up as Aunt Annie.
“Hey, Buck, come help me with this,” I say, and he and Kayla both give me a curious side-eye. “What?” I say to my sister. “Just trying to get in the holiday spirit.”
Kayla pours more flour into her butter and sugar mixture. Why we need to make six dozen sugar cookies, I will never know. “What are you getting Owen for Christmas?”
This I do know. I’ve had a plan for a couple weeks—one I’m pretty proud of. “I bought him a Logan Wilson jersey.”
Kayla’s brows pull together.
“You know, from the Cincinnati Bengals.”
“I don’t know. That’s football, right?”
I laugh out a small groan. “Yes. Football.” I glance over at Bucky, who hasn’t moved yet. “Buck, do you want to punch the dough?”
He sits up, interested in my invitation.
“I’m just saying, not very romantic,”Kayla says, ignoring my conversation with her son. She keeps her eyes on her mixing bowl while my kneading has been officially set to pause.
