Grinchland

Chapter 12

TWELVE

CLARA

I managed to sufficiently distract myself after school.

I made myself dinner. I ate said dinner.

Then I took my time trying to decide what we were going to do for the night’s festivities.

My normal Friday night traditions in December were to watch a Christmas movie and string popcorn for garlands, so that was what we were going to do after we finished putting up the decorations in my house.

Decorating wasn't normally a task for December because, most times, everything was up by mid-November. And that was if I had put anything away to begin with. Much to Abbie’s chagrin, most of my decorations stayed up all year round.

Decorating seemed like the perfect activity to ease Silas into my Christmas antics.

I set down the last box of Christmas decorations that I’d brought in from the garage, blew out my breath, and glanced over to the grandfather clock in the living room.

Why was I nervous? Time felt like it was both standing still and moving at lightning speed.

In 20 minutes, Silas was supposed to be knocking on my front door.

I was in the midst of popping my sixth bag of popcorn when I heard a knock at the door. I glanced at the clock to see that time really did fly when you were distracted. It was 8:45, which meant it had to be Silas. But in this town, I never really knew.

Butterflies erupted in my stomach as I hurried to wipe the popcorn butter off my hands before I made my way to the front door.

I told myself those butterflies were just nerves.

I was inviting the Grinch into my house, and I was about to share what I loved most about the holiday with him.

But my head knew better. I literally heard the words, girl, please echo in my head.

I pushed both thoughts out of my mind. This was neither the time nor place to try to dissect what had happened this morning between me and Silas, so I wasn’t going to try. I was going to focus on the task at hand, and only that.

I turned the handle and pulled the door open, getting ready to greet him with a flourish, but when he quickly pressed his finger to his lips, I obeyed. He pointed to Isabelle, who was wrapped in a blanket and passed out on his shoulder.

I pressed my fingers to my lips and nodded.

Then I motioned for him to follow me. I held the door open as he passed through to the foyer, kicking his shoes off as he entered.

With the door now shut, I led him through the house and into my bedroom.

The lights on the Christmas tree in there were on, creating a warm ambiance.

I pulled back my covers and patted the bed.

Silas was gentle as he lowered her to the mattress. She whined and wiggled for a moment before she stilled. It was doing strange things to my insides, watching him sweep back the hair that had come loose from her braid, before he studied her to make sure she was comfortable and then straightened.

When his gaze met mine, I realized that I had been staring, so instantly I looked away.

What are you doing? the voice from earlier hissed in my ear.

Being an idiot, apparently.

“She good?” I whispered after I’d gathered my wits and turned my attention back to Silas.

He was still studying Isabelle. It felt like an eternity before he glanced up and nodded. “I think we’re good.” He glanced around my room, and I watched as the realization that he was in my room passed over his face.

His cheeks reddened and he looked panicked when he met my gaze.

“Let’s leave her,” I said as I began to shepherd him to the door. I wasn’t messy, but I also wasn’t a clean freak. The last thing I needed was for him to see my bra dumped on the floor because I’d been too tired last night to put it away.

Once we were out in the hallway, I quietly closed my door until it was open just a crack. That way, he’d hear Isabelle if she got up, but she wouldn’t be bothered by us moving around.

I glanced up to see Silas studying me. The narrowness of the hallway forced him close to me, and suddenly, I wasn’t just looking at him, I was looking up at him. I could feel his body heat and smell his scent. It was a mixture of rough, outdoorsman with the scent of clean laundry.

This interaction was too intimate.

In an effort to focus on something else, I dropped my gaze to his chest and gave his outfit a once-over. He was wearing a black sweatshirt and a pair of grey sweatpants. He went more casual this evening, a stark difference from the suits I’d thought he lived in.

“What?” Silas was frowning when I glanced up. Finally, an expression I recognized.

I shook my head. “Nothing.” I turned and made my way through the hall and back into the kitchen to find that the microwave had finished. I was pulling out the bag of popcorn when Silas appeared in the doorway.

“What were you staring at?” he asked as he glanced down at his clothes.

“Nothing,” I said again. I pulled open the sides of the bag and then dumped the popcorn into the bowl on the counter.

“It’s not nothing. You were staring at my clothes with a strange look.” He folded his arms and rested his shoulder on the doorjamb. He really wasn’t going to let this go.

I sighed. “Do you own anything that’s not basic?”

He frowned. “Basic?”

I crumpled up the now empty popcorn bag and tossed it into the nearby garbage. I assessed the popcorn pile and concluded that we had enough.

“You know, brown, white, black.” I ticked the colors off on my fingers and emphasized the last color by pointing to his sweatshirt.

“What’s wrong with basic?” he asked as he once more glanced down at his clothes.

I shook my head. “Nothing.”

He narrowed his eyes.

“Besides, I can solve”—I waved my hand in his direction—“all of this.” I smiled at my ability to mirror the gesture that he made toward me on the first day back at him.

He paused as his expression grew contemplative. “I never agreed to having you dress me.”

“You agreed to everything,” I said as I waggled my finger at him.

He shook his head. “I do believe my words were, within reason.”

I blinked, startled that I was going to have to explain this to him. “A Christmas sweater is within reason.”

His eyes practically bugged from his head. “Nope. No way. I am not wearing one of those tacky sweaters.” He brushed down his sweatshirt. “I have an image to uphold. Besides, I like my clothes.”

I gave him another once-over and shrugged. “Eh. They’re boring.”

“I’m okay with boring.”

I grinned at him. “For now. Give me a few days and you’ll be singing a different tune.”

He eyed me and then glanced around the kitchen. “Does your holiday tradition include eating an obscene amount of popcorn?” He nodded toward the overflowing bowl in front of him.

“This is for the second portion of the night.”

“There are…portions?”

I nodded. “Yep.” And then, without thinking, I reached forward and grabbed his hand so I could guide him to the living room, where the night was going to start.

At first, touching him felt natural. But when I started moving and he didn’t, I paused and glanced back to see him standing there, stiff as a board, staring at our hands. That’s when I realized what I’d done. I instantly dropped his hand and took a step back.

“Sorry,” I muttered. There were two emotions going through me right now.

I was trying not to be embarrassed that I might have overstepped.

That reaction paired perfectly with feeling offended that he was so disturbed by my touch.

There had to be huggers in his life. A large section of the population liked physical contact.

Silas stretched and clenched the hand I had grabbed before he glanced up. “It’s fine,” he said.

That was an obvious lie. He looked like he was trying to exorcise my touch right off his skin. It made me feel so good.

“Won’t happen again,” I said and then decided the best move was to just pretend it hadn’t. I kept a good three feet away and waved for him to follow. “Come with me.”

I led him into the living room. He stayed near the doorway while I walked further in. As soon as I got to the bins of decorations, I took the lid off the first one. When he didn’t approach, I glanced over at him.

“Come on,” I said before I chuckled. “I’m not going to bite.”

He looked like he didn’t believe me, but after a few seconds he approached. “What are we doing?” he asked cautiously.

I pulled out the Mr. and Mrs. Santa Claus gnomes and held them up. “We’re decorating.”

His expression was deadpan as he stared at me, and then at the bin. “Was this your plan all along? To have me be your little elf?” He folded his arms across his chest.

I just smiled. “My little elf?” I asked, loving that he was using a Christmas analogy with me. I felt triumphant. It meant I had already begun cracking his icy exterior.

His cheeks reddened as he held up a finger. “What, no,” he said quickly. “I didn’t mean to say that.”

I held up the gnome couple and started to slowly turn around the room as I looked for the perfect place to set them. “And yet”—I sighed and tipped my head—“you did.” And then inspiration struck.

The second shelf in the bookcase next to the TV was the perfect place for these two. I gave him a knowing look as I passed by him.

I could see that he was fighting with himself, so I continued decorating while he came to terms with the effect I was having on him. Finally, he seemed to have given up trying to deny what he said and slowly stepped up to the bin. He shuffled some of the items around like he didn’t know what to do.

“Hey, hey,” I said as I took the porcelain teddy bear wearing a Christmas scarf with presents at his feet from his hands. I’d had enough of Silas manhandling him. “Be nice to Cinnamon.”

He watched with equal parts curiosity and horror as I gently set Cinnamon down in the palm of my left hand before bringing him up to eye level.

“Cinnamon?” he asked.

I nodded and glanced over at him. “What? You don’t name your Christmas decorations?” I brushed off the top of Cinnamon’s head and then blew on him a few times.

Silas looked at me like I had two heads. “No.”

“Right, because you don’t have Christmas decorations,” I said. I walked toward the shelf that the gnome couple was on and set down Cinnamon. “That’s kind of a prerequisite.”

Silas folded his arms. “Even if I did have one, I wouldn’t name it.” He shook his head.

“I highly doubt that.” I snorted as I made my way back to the bin. “If you had a Christmas decoration, you would name it, it’s the law.” I narrowed my eyes. “And you have great respect for the law.” I made sure my voice was light even though the words I spoke were heavy.

He just stared at me.

“How about we make a wager?” I turned to face him with my hand extended.

He flicked his gaze down to my hand and then back up. “What did you have in mind?”

I tapped my chin, mentally running through my decorations. I’d managed to make most of them fit, I just couldn’t put up Pudgie the penguin. I’d run out of outlets.

“If you put up my inflatable penguin in your yard and you don’t feel the urge to name him by the end of the seven days, I’ll…” I glanced around the room, looking for something I could offer him. But he’d made it clear he absolutely didn’t want anything I owned.

“You’ll get Isabelle an invite to Catalina’s party.”

I glanced over at him. “What?”

He was staring at the ground with his hands shoved into the front pockets of his sweatpants. His jaw was set and I could tell that this bothered him.

“Catalina Turnbow. She’s having a party that all the kids in the class have been invited to, except Isabelle.

” He paused. “I can have an abrasive personality, and her mom…isn’t too fond of me.

I’m worried that’s why she’s excluded my daughter.

If her fun, loving teacher is the one who raises a concern, maybe you can get Janice to invite Belly. ”

Out of everything he could ask for, this was what he wanted? He had to know that I would never tolerate this kind of behavior from parents. Not inviting all the kids from a classroom was not okay.

“Yes, of course,” I said as I shook my head. “But you didn’t need to make it part of this deal. I would have done it regardless.”

He studied me for a moment and then shrugged. “I don’t like owing anyone anything.”

I paused. “Because you’re the mayor?”

“Something like that.”

Well, if that was what he wanted, then I could play this game.

“All right. You put up the inflatable penguin in your yard for seven days. If at the end you haven’t named him, then I will talk to Catalina’s mom about why Isabelle was excluded from the party and remind her what common decency dictates. ”

Silas paused, like he was mulling over what I’d offered, before he stepped forward and took my hand like this was a business deal he wanted to close.

Tingles erupted across my skin, so I dropped my gaze, hoping he didn’t notice that his touch had brought a reaction out in me.

After all, it wasn’t like it meant anything.

I was just excited that my plan to change the Christmas-hating mayor into a contributing member of Whoville was working.

Needing to break the ice, I leaned toward him before he let go of my hand and whispered, “I’ll talk to her mom as soon as I see her.”

He stilled before he glanced down at me, bringing his face inches from mine. He held my gaze for a moment, and there was something there. An ache. A pain. A rawness that I related to. But it was gone with a blink.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice deep and gruff. He dropped my hand and took a step back. His gaze snapped to the bin. “Decorations?”

I nodded. “Decorations.”