Chapter 2
Sasha
“Hey.”
I turned around to find a woman standing at the end of my table. Her hair was long and golden, her curls framing her soft features and killer eyeliner. Her hands were in her pockets, and she looked nervous. Her eyes were light brown, drawing me in as she met mine head-on.
“Hi.” I smiled. “Did you need the table?”
“No.” She pushed back her bangs. “Limit is two per table, so I got booted from my nephew’s table. Looks like the same happened to you?”
“Yeah, that was a bit of a shock when we got here.” I nodded. “I promised to be the best godfather ever, but now I’m twenty feet away while she decorates a gingerbread house without me.”
She huffed, obviously a bit miffed at the situation. “It’s stupid. I wanted to go give the people in charge a piece of my mind, but my sister forbid it.”
I grinned. Damn, she’s got some spunk then. “In that case, welcome to the overflow section for the disposable extra parents.” I gestured to the table, where I'd spread out the frosting tubes and various small cups full of candy.
“With an invitation like that, how could I say no?” She rolled her eyes, but I caught her lips curving upward into a small smile.
I moved over to make some space for her.
She immediately got to work rearranging the frosting and candies. I had organized them by size, but she seemed to have a different system in mind.
I let her go for a while before I spoke up. “I’m Sasha.” I held out my hand. “Here with my goddaughter.”
She raised an eyebrow and gave me a deliberate once-over.
I tried not to squirm under her intensity.
She rewarded me when she finally held out her hand and shook my still outstretched one. “Sasha? Should I ask pronouns?”
I laughed. “Nah, Mom just wanted a girl, so I was blessed with the name.”
“I see. I’m Kaylinn. Here with my nephew.” She nodded over her shoulder to where a woman and a young boy, both with matching blonde curls, meticulously laid out their decorative items.
“Handsome little guy, isn’t he?” I smiled.
“He’s great.” She sighed. It felt heavy, like Angie’s when we talked about Mark missing out on some of Zoe’s best times.
“Is everything alright?” I asked, trying not to pry.
Just then, Mrs. Beasley, the woman running the competition, stood at the front of the room and started making her announcements, including the $100 grand prize for the winner of the contest, which sent all the kids into a frenzy.
“Yeah,” I heard Kaylinn say after a moment. “His dad left in May, and I’m trying to help them both find a new rhythm. It’s still a bit of a struggle. I just want to make the holidays go perfectly for them.”
I didn’t hesitate before gently taking her hand from where she was picking at her nails, and I squeezed it. “I think you’re doing a great job.”
She looked up at me then, giving me an unimpressed look that was shockingly similar to Angie’s many looks.
I laughed. “I’m serious. You obviously love them, and you’re here, aren’t you? Making a gingerbread house with a stranger so that your nephew has a good time.”
She paused, studying me again. “I guess you’re right.”
I grinned and winked. “Of course I am. I’m a godfather. We know everything.”
She scoffed. “Oh, now I know that one’s not true.”
“What? Prove it, then. Ask me anything about Zoe.” I uncapped the tube of frosting and began tracing a scallop pattern over the roof shingles. It was time to get this show on the road.