Chapter 11
ELEVEN
SILAS
I woke up Friday morning with equal parts worry and regret.
Worry for what the next seven days were going to bring me.
Regret for even agreeing to Clara’s plan in the first place.
I had banned Christmas because it brought my family nothing but grief, and now I was stuck with the most Christmasy elf in Santa’s workshop for the next seven days.
This was going to be hell.
“You have a plan,” I muttered to myself for the hundredth time this morning. I was in the middle of making myself a cup of coffee to help me wake up.
The sound of Dog’s doggie door had me looking over to see him prance inside. He looked content as he paused and glanced over at me. Ugh, to be a dog. Way less responsibilities. Way less…wait.
I stared at his neck. His collar was different. It was new and…Christmas themed.
“Dog, come,” I said as I squatted down. He paused but then trotted over to me and sat.
“What did that woman do to you?” I asked as I started to inspect the red-and-green checkered collar.
Not only was it not my style, but as I shifted it, I could hear a jingle bell rattling against a metal name tag.
I twisted the collar until I had the tag in hand.
I glanced down and my eyes bugged from my head.
“Blitzen?” I yelled and then pursed my lips. Had that woman seriously renamed my dog? “Your name is not Blitzen,” I said as I started to feed the tongue of the collar through the clasp; it fell into my hand. I stuffed it into my pocket just as Isabelle appeared.
She was walking slowly, gracefully into the kitchen like she was feeling her outfit this morning and wanted me to notice.
“Wow,” I whispered. “You look beautiful.”
Isabelle took her time turning in a circle so I could see the full effect.
She had her red dress on that I bought for the daddy-daughter Valentine’s dance.
She’d taped cut up pieces of green construction paper all over her dress.
When she finished her rotation, she gracefully pulled her hair back to reveal that she had taped drawn Christmas lights to her ears for earrings.
She looked just like…Clara.
Part of me wanted to demand that she take it off.
We didn’t do Christmas in our house. But the other part of me, the one that supported his daughter no matter what, cheered and whistled to show my appreciation for her creativity.
I never told Isabelle to change when it came to her style, and I wasn’t going to start.
“I love it,” I said as I walked over to her and planted a big kiss on her cheek. “What inspired you?”
Isabelle’s smile was wide and infectious, and I found myself grinning back at her. “Do you think Ms. Snow will think it’s pretty?”
I studied her. “I think she’ll love it.”
That seemed to be exactly what Isabelle needed to hear. “Good.”
My fear of Christmas eliciting flashbacks for Isabelle seemed silly with her standing in front of me dressed like a miniature Ms. Snow.
Suddenly, I felt ridiculous for listening to that child psychologist who’d said that to protect Isabelle I needed to remove everything that had to do with the night Nicole died.
Was it possible that enough time had passed that I didn’t need to worry anymore?
Maybe I’d taken things too far with this ban.
I shook my head. That was a ridiculous thought.
I’d made a choice years ago to protect my daughter, and I was going to do just that.
The human brain’s a tricky thing. I would never forgive myself if something triggered her and she fell back into the dark abyss where I’d almost lost her.
I couldn’t protect her if the entire town was covered with decorations.
“Want some eggs and bacon?” I asked.
Isabelle had walked over to the mirror in the living room and was admiring herself. She was slowly turning side to side. “Okay,” she said, not looking up.
After our scrambled eggs and crispy bacon were consumed, I rinsed the dishes and set them in the sink. I’d take care of them when I got home tonight.
Isabelle and I climbed into the car and I started the engine.
Just as I was pulling out of the garage, I paused.
Clara was currently walking to her car with her head down.
She was wearing a less ostentatious dress today.
It was blue with silver stars all over it.
At the hem of the skirt was a shadowed depiction of the nativity scene.
She must have felt my gaze because, a second later, she raised her head and looked around. When her gaze caught mine, she smiled and waved. Her smile caught me off guard. For the first time since meeting her, her smile was genuine. She actually looked happy to see me.
Without thinking, I raised three fingers in acknowledgement.
And then I felt like an idiot. What was I doing? Why was I waving back? This was Clara—the woman who was trying to bring Christmas back to Grinchland.
I cleared my throat and focused my attention on pulling safely out of the driveway.
Whatever that reaction had been, it needed to never happen again. Lines had been drawn. This was war and Clara was the enemy. I needed to remember that.
I decided to stop and get doughnuts for me and Isabelle on the way to school. That would give Clara enough time to park and get inside before we arrived, thus limiting the chance that I might run into her.
Thankfully, they gave us multiple napkins at the doughnut shop because I had to use all of them on Isabelle’s face before we walked into school.
She’d chosen a Boston cream long john and was wearing half the cream filling on her face.
Once she was clean and ready, I held my hand out for her to grab so I could help her out of the truck.
She let me hold her hand as we walked into the building.
Her step was lighter, and she kept glancing shyly at people like she was wondering if they were admiring her outfit.
When we got to her classroom door, I stepped forward to grab the handle just as the door swung open, and Clara walked straight into me.
It startled both me and her, and before I could think, my hands were wrapping around her arms to keep her upright.
Her eyes were wide as her gaze met mine, and for a brief moment, I stared at her.
Being this close gave me a front-row seat to her copper-colored eyes with gold rings in them.
They were framed with dark lashes, and she had a sprinkle of freckles across her nose.
She smelled like vanilla and Christmas, and I found myself wanting to lean closer to inhale.
And then I realized what I was doing and dropped my hands like I’d just touched fire. “Sorry,” I muttered as I took a step back.
Clara shook her head. “No, I should be apologizing. I was the one who ran into you. I should've looked through the window before I just barreled through.” Her gaze drifted to Isabelle, who was standing with her chest puffed out in anticipation of Clara’s praise.
That woman didn’t disappoint. She ooh’d and aah’d over every detail Isabelle had put into her dress. Clara crouched down and made Isabelle twirl a few times so she could “get the full effect.” Her adoration of my daughter did strange things to my chest.
I wasn’t sure what to do about that.
When Clara straightened, her gaze met mine, and I took that moment to mouth, thank you. Her praise was exactly what Isabelle needed. Clara’s smile turned shy as she nodded and mouthed back, of course.
There was a heaviness in the air that I didn't know how to interpret, and I wasn't sure I wanted to. Luckily Isabelle didn't seem to notice. She stepped towards the door that was now shut, glanced over her shoulder, and stated that it was time for me to go.
I started to ask her if she wanted me to walk her to her desk, but she just shot me a death stare before she yanked open the door and hurried into the classroom.
I was starting to see what my future would look like with her as a teenager, and it was terrifying.
Now alone in the hallway with Clara, I glanced over at her. She hadn’t walked away yet, and I wasn’t sure how to interpret that. She didn’t look like she wanted to talk to me—she was looking everywhere but at me—so I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to address her or not.
I hated that I felt awkward. I wanted to go back to how things were when we weren’t talking. It was easier. I shifted my weight, and the heaviness of the collar shifting in my pocket drew my attention. Remembering that I’d removed it from Dog this morning, I pulled it out and held it up.
“Did you change my dog’s name?” I asked.
Clara’s face flushed as she studied the collar and then shifted her gaze back to me. Her expression turned sheepish, but she didn’t move to take the collar from me. Instead, she just folded her arms and shifted her weight to one hip.
“It’s not fair that his name is Dog,” she said.
I studied her. Who was this woman? Why did she insist on coming into my life and blowing everything up?
When it became evident that she wasn’t going to take the collar, I resorted to staring at her. “Is this part of our deal?” I asked. “Me changing my dog’s name?” I quirked an eyebrow.
Clara fought a smile, and for the second time today, I found myself rejoicing that I’d elicited that reaction in her.
“Yes,” she said with a resolute nod.
I studied her for a moment and then wrapped the collar up and stuck it back into my pocket. I’d promised to be a team player, and I was a man of my word, even if I thought what she had planned was ridiculous.
“Fine,” I said as I emphasized the word.
“Good.”
We stood there, staring at each other. Even though our conversation had ended, neither of us seemed eager to leave. Finally, the noise from her classroom rose, and she glanced over her shoulder and then back to me.
“I should get going,” she said.
I nodded. “Same.”
She turned and grabbed the door handle but then paused. “Come to my house tonight after the town council meeting. It’s time for the festivities to begin.”
I nodded. She smiled, pulled open the door, and disappeared. Now that I was alone in the hall, I blew out my breath and pushed my hand through my hair. Whatever that had been…had been unexpected.
I turned and started walking toward the front doors. For the first time this morning, the thought of spending time with Clara didn’t fill me with dread.
For the first time, I was actually…excited.