Chapter 21
BELLA
It means a lot that someone loves my kid the way I love my kid. I just wished his dad loved him like that too.
Wait. Did I just say love? It feels like he loves us. Does he love us? Do I love him? I think I love him.
“Miss Carlisle, can I go to the potty?” Avery asks, pulling me out of my head. Focus, Bella. You are the adult. You have responsibilities. You can’t keep daydreaming about the hot firefighter all day.
“Can you hold it for ten more minutes till we walk down to lunch?” I ask Avery.
She nods and skips back to her seat, and I get up from my desk to start corralling kids and cleaning up before we go to the cafeteria.
As we’re walking down the hall, Lucy waves at me, and I walk over and lean against the wall next to her as our kids go in and out of the bathroom.
“What’s with the face? Rough day?”
“No, just thinking about some stuff that I’m not ready to process out loud,” I admit.
“About a certain widower that needs help with Christmas?”
“Maybe,” I say right as Avery walks out of the bathroom and shuffles over to me.
“Are you coming to our house tonight?”
I can feel my cheeks turning red as I glance around. “Not tonight.”
“Don’t you need to work on the secret project?” she asks, whispering the last part.
“Actually, we are in a good spot with that. Your daddy got a lot of work done this weekend.”
“Oh,” she says, looking disappointed.
“I’m sure we’ll work on it more later in the week, though. Why?”
“I like it when you come over. My daddy smiles more. I think he likes helping with the workshop.”
“Oh, he likes something, alright,” Lucy murmurs under her breath.
I jab an elbow against her side.
“Go get in line so we can go to lunch.”
Avery skips over to her spot in line, and I do a quick count to see how many kids I’m waiting on.
“What’s really going on with you two?” Lucy asks.
“What do you mean?”
“I know you’re working on Santa’s Workshop together, but are you sure that’s it?”
I know the rumor mill is already running since we’ve been seen around town, but I suddenly feel guilty for keeping my friends in the dark.
And Hardy and I haven’t discussed if we were officially telling people about us, but Amber did see us kissing.
And Avery is still in earshot and I’m not sure what she knows about me and her dad.
“He’s helping me with the workshop, and I’m helping him with The Santa Rules,” I say, lowering my voice, repeating the line I used on her the last time she asked this.
“Okaaaay,” Lucy says, drawing out the word as though she doesn’t believe me.
Lunch and recess pass too quickly, but luckily Lucy doesn’t ask any more questions about Hardy.
There’s a lively discussion in the afternoon as we practice working on our handwriting. When I ask for different words that start with S, the topic soon changes to Santa, and I decide it’s a great opportunity to see if I can get Avery to open up about her favorite traditions.
I walk around the room and ask students what they like to do during the holidays, and it’s always fascinating to hear everyone’s plans.
Not everyone celebrates Christmas, but most of the kids talk about hanging out with their family and playing with siblings and friends.
Every so often I glance over at Avery, and she has her head down like she’s concentrating on her writing extra hard.
When I walk over to her table, I squat next to her. “Those are some beautiful Ss.” I point to her writing.
“Thanks.”
“I didn’t hear you share your favorite holiday traditions.” I speak softly for only her to hear, not wanting to draw attention as the rest of the class works.
“My mommy used to sing all the songs. I liked that.”
“What was your favorite?” I ask, hoping I can get her to share more, not just so I can help Hardy, but also so she knows that it’s okay to share her big feelings.
“The under the tree one.”
“Kelly Clarkson. I love that one. Did you two ever go caroling?”
“What’s that?”
“It’s when you walk around and sing Christmas songs. You can go door to door and spread Christmas cheer. Would you like to do that?”
She nods her head.
“Do you have any other fun traditions that your family does?”
“Cookies. But Daddy burned them last year, and Santa threw them in the trash.”
“Oh no. We will have to make sure that you have some good cookies for Santa this year, then.”
“What’s your favorite tradition?” she asks, finally looking up from her paper.
“My favorite is something cool Santa used to do for Isaac. He’s too old for it now so I asked him to stop, but Santa used to leave him a paper wall to run through.”
“That’s so cool! How come Santa doesn’t do that for me?”
“Well, there are certain rules that Santa has to follow.”
“Because Daddy is the boss of our house?”
“That’s right. And Santa can’t just make a mess in your house without your daddy’s approval.”
“Is that why Sprinkle didn’t come last year?”
“Maybe,” I say, trying to stifle a laugh since I know exactly why her elf went missing.
“There are Santa Rules. And if you want Santa to leave you a paper wall, you have to make sure your daddy opts into that with Santa, then Santa knows he has permission to leave one,” I tell her quietly, making sure no other students hear.
Avery gets quiet like she’s thinking over what else she could ask Santa for, so I push up and continue wandering the room. As I walk around my students, I devise my own plan for how I could bring more cheer to this little girl’s holiday.
——————
How good is your singing voice?
***
Never mind, it doesn’t matter. Guess what we’re doing tonight?
If the answer isn’t your sweet cunt, then I don’t want to hear it
That will require babysitters
And this won’t?
Not tonight. Guess what we’re doing?
It’s a school night
So grumpy
Do you want to know what brings me joy?
I know what I want the answer to be
That does bring me joy, but I’m trying to coach you on Christmas stuff. Focus
Whatever we’re doing, can it involve less glitter?
Wait, are we going caroling?
How did you know?
You asked if I could sing
Oh yeah, I did. And we are
I feel like you’re about to quote that line from Elf about spreading cheer
I’m impressed you know an Elf reference
Avery made me watch it the other night. It made me think of you
I love that you know me so well
Shit. Like. I like that he knows me so well. My heart races in my chest as I wait for his reply, and I watch those three little dots dance with nervous anticipation.
I have thoroughly enjoyed getting to know you
I breathe out a sigh of relief. That was a close one.
Three hours later, a grumpy, bundled-up Hardy is trudging toward me down the sidewalk, and I can’t help the goofy grin that takes over my face when I see his appearance. Avery runs to me.
“Doesn’t Daddy look pretty?”
“I thought we were doing less glitter this time?” I wave a hand in a circle around his face.
“Avery has always wanted me to grow a beard, but since the department has rules about the length of our facial hair, she rubbed glue on my face and gave me a beard with glitter.”
“You look…very sparkly.”
“It’s itchy.”
I lean in to give him a hug, savoring the smell of pine, smoke, and bergamot.
“She told me I needed to look pretty for my date,” he says quietly into my ear.
“Oh, got a hot date after this?” I tease.
“Can we sing the songs now?” Avery says, running over to us as she tugs on Hardy’s coat.
“So where are we doing this?” Hardy asks.
“I figured we’d walk through the local shops. See if we can get people to join our merry band.”
“Daddy loves to sing,” Avery says. “He practiced the whole way here.”
“He did, did he?” Hardy’s cheeks are pink, though that could just be the cold. Is he trying to impress me? “So, what’s your favorite Christmas song?”
He starts to open his mouth, but Avery interrupts him. “He likes ‘Silent Night.’”
“That’s a good one,” I agree. “Our first stop is Chestnut Roasters.”
“Can we get a cookie too?” Avery asks, as she walks ahead of us.
“No Isaac?” Hardy asks, looking behind us.
“Nah, singing isn’t his thing. He’s gaming at a friend’s house, said they were working on a coding thing or something. Plus, he was worried I’d change the lyrics of ‘Twelve Days of Christmas’ to ‘Twelve Pubes a-Counting.’ I did threaten it, so I guess I don’t blame him.”
“Twelve what? Wait, never mind. You’d think I’d have learned by now not to question you.”
“I’ll tell you later,” I say, right as Avery catches up to us and grabs Hardy’s hand.
The delicious aroma of coffee and sugar has me doing a little dance as we walk in.
“What was that?” Hardy smirks.
“I’m just excited.”
“Can we get hot chocolate?” Avery asks, bouncing on the balls of her feet.
“Sweet Jesus, there are two of them,” Hardy teases, glancing between us.
After two hot chocolates, three cookies, one with glitter sprinkles for Avery, and way too many napkins, we head out of the store, fueled up on sugar and ready to start caroling at our next stop: Chestnut Mountain Market.
I suddenly trip over a crack in the sidewalk. “Oh crap,” I yelp, nearly twisting my ankle as I throw my hands out to catch my fall. Before I hit the concrete, large hands grip my waist, steadying me.
“Careful, Bells. I got you.”
I look down at my boot and notice the heel has separated from the sole. I try to take another step on it and wobble again.
“I have a better idea,” Hardy says as he moves in front of me and squats down. “Hop on.”
“Are you sure? We have like three more stops.”
“It would be my honor,” he says, smiling at me over his shoulder then motions for me to get on his back.
I climb on, wrapping my legs around his waist. Jake never would’ve carried me; he would have criticized me for my choice in footwear instead. But Hardy is a rock, someone steady and calm to depend on. And it feels good to know that I’m not alone, that I have someone else I can literally lean on.
We get about ten steps down the street when it hits me. “Hardy! Do you know what I am right now?”
He chuckles. “No, but I bet you’re gonna tell me.”
“Well, you’ve heard of Elf on the Shelf? I’m Bella on her fella!” I say and revel in his warmth as I feel laughter reverberate through his chest.
“That you are, Bells. I’m honored to be your fella.”
We step inside the market, and Avery holds the door for us. “I want a piggyback ride too!”
“Miss Carlisle broke her shoe,” Hardy explains as I climb down his back.
“It’s okay, I can stand in here if she wants a turn.”
Avery squeals as Hardy leans down and grabs her, placing her on his shoulders.
“Are you ready?” I ask Avery.
“Yup!”
“What should we sing?” I ask, but before anyone can answer, Hardy winks at me.
“Silent Night, holy night, all is calm, all is bright.” His voice is soft yet powerful, his tone surprisingly velvety.
I think my ovaries just melted. Just when I think this man couldn’t get any hotter, he has to have a voice like that.
And not only does he sound great, but the fact that this grumpy man, who isn’t a fan of crowds, is willing to do this for his daughter?
I couldn’t swoon harder. If I’m not careful, he’s going to notice the little cartoon heart bubbles coming out of my eyes.
“Sleep in heavenly peace,” Avery chimes in with her sweet little voice.
“Sleep in heavenly peace,” I sing with them.
A few shoppers stop and listen as we sing several other songs, and a handful of people sing along with us. We stop at two other stores on Main Street, and each time, Hardy carries me outside and lets Avery sit on his shoulders while we sing.
And for the first time in a long time, my heart feels full.
Being a mom has always fulfilled me, and I wish Isaac were with us tonight, but when I’m with these two people, I get the same feeling I do when I’m with my son.
It feels soothing, like a warm mug of hot chocolate, familiar like coming home after a long trip, and it feels like love, the kind you feel on Christmas morning when you watch your kid open presents and see pure joy on their face, knowing that you were a part of that.
“Can we make cookies now?” Avery asks as we load her up in the car.
“Actually, we are making cookies this Sunday at Principal Delilah’s house,” I say.
“Can we come? Please?” Avery begs as Hardy shoots me an apologetic look.
“You can absolutely come.” The thought of sharing this tradition with them warms my heart.
I just hope I don’t scare Hardy off once he sees what kind of cookies we make.