Grinchland

Chapter 22

TWENTY-TWO

CLARA

Things had completely changed between Silas and me.

He was the last thing I thought about when I went to bed and the first thing I thought about when I woke up.

I spent the morning wondering what he was doing and even tried to catch of glimpse of him from my house as I dressed and made myself breakfast.

My entire body warmed when I saw him walk by his kitchen window, and I feared if I didn’t hurry, I was going to miss seeing him even though it had only been six hours since he’d left my house.

He’d stayed over last night until the wee hours of the morning.

We made out on the couch and then snuggled under a blanket while we watched Die Hard—his favorite Christmas movie.

I wanted to object—Die Hard was not a Christmas movie—but he seemed so excited to share it with me. Plus, he’d been such a good sport about doing all of my Christmas traditions, that I decided to give him this one.

After the movie was over, I straightened on the couch and declared that I had been right, Die Hard was indeed not a Christmas movie. I met his gaze head-on in anticipation of his argument.

Instead of fighting, Silas just grabbed my arms and yanked me to his chest, where he kissed me with such passion and fury that my objection flew from my mind and all that existed was him and I.

We were all that mattered.

And when his gaze caught mine as we both climbed into our cars, and I saw the intensity with which he was staring at me, I knew he felt the same. That thought both thrilled and terrified me.

By all accounts, Silas and I were opposites.

We were two sides of a coin that didn’t make sense.

He was grumpy, and I was Christmas. He was black and white, and I was glitter and everything festive.

He shouldn’t want me, and I shouldn’t want him.

But for some reason, none of that mattered.

He was the person that got my heart racing.

And from the way he kissed me last night, I did the same for him.

Thankfully, twenty-four five-year-olds all breaking down because they forgot their lines provided the distraction I needed from my thoughts of Silas.

We spent most of the day rehearsing the play until I called it good—or good enough—and declared we were doing arts and crafts until the end of the day.

I didn’t bother to go home. Tonight was opening night, and I needed to get some last-minute things ready.

As the time grew closer to six, I began to feel on edge.

Every time someone appeared in the doorway of the gym, my gaze whipped over to see if it was Silas and Isabelle.

But each time I saw another child’s parents enter, my stomach fell.

I had confidence that he was going to show up, but there was a part of me, a teeny, tiny part of me that feared this was all too much. That he was going to wake up and realize I’d pushed Christmas on the Christmas-hating mayor, and he was going to revolt.

“Ms. Snow!” Isaac’s mom exclaimed as she approached me.

I blinked a few times, forcing my thoughts from Silas. “Hey, Mrs. Parkes.” I stepped closer to her. “Everything okay?”

Her grin grew wider. “I don’t know how you did it, but I just wanted to say thank you for bringing a bit of Christmas back to this town.

I thought Silas would come to his senses eventually, but as the years went on, that hope slowly died.

” She sighed. “But then you showed up and bang”—she clapped her hands—“Christmas.”

I glanced around, fearing that Silas would overhear and realize that I’d successfully wiggled the holiday that he hated back into Grinchland. That may have been the reason I initially did all of this, but things had changed. They’d changed a lot.

“I’m glad you’re happy.”

“Maybe next year, we’ll actually be able to call it A Christmas Carol, instead of just A Carol.” She tapped the tip of her nose before she pointed her finger at me.

I nodded. “Maybe.”

She sighed. “Well, just thought I’d say thank you. Isaac is so excited to be Christmas”—she mouthed the word—“past.”

“I’m glad.”

Mrs. Turnbow walked past just as those words left my lips. Realizing that I hadn’t fulfilled my side of the Pudgie the penguin bargain, I gave Mrs. Parkes an apologetic smile and then hurried after Catalina’s mom.

“Mrs. Turnbow?” I asked as I reached out and brushed my fingers against her elbow in an effort to get her attention.

Mrs. Turnbow stopped and turned. “Ms. Snow?” she asked.

Just then, from the corner of my eyes, I saw Silas walk into the gym. I hated that seeing him caused my gaze to go fuzzy and my heart to pick up speed. All I wanted to do was look at him, but I couldn’t. Not when Mrs. Turnbow was staring at me expectantly.

So I pulled my gaze from Silas and focused my attention.

“I heard that you have excluded Isabelle St. Nick from Catalina’s party.

” I folded my arms across my chest. “It is school policy that if you are inviting other members of the class that you invite all of her classmates.” Heat pricked the back of my neck as a protective surge rose up inside of me.

No one messes with my—

I stopped that thought, and my eyes widened as I realized the word that was going to complete that sentence: daughter. I almost called Isabelle my daughter.

What was wrong with me?

Mrs. Turnbow’s eyes were wide when I brought my attention back to her. Minus that brain aneurism, I still needed to focus on the task at hand.

“Well, Ms. Snow, I would have invited Isabelle to Catalina’s Christmas party in Jordan, but since her father is the man who explicitly banned Christmas in our town, I thought that would be in bad taste.”

My surprised expression must have been exactly what she was expecting because her eyebrow went up in anticipation of my response. All I could manage was a weak, “Oh,” before all of my words left me.

“Oh is right. So next time, maybe don’t assume that I’m purposely leaving a child out.” She turned on her heel and headed toward the chairs the janitor had set up earlier in the day.

I wanted to walk after her. I wanted to apologize for assuming the worst. It hadn’t even crossed my mind that Isabelle hadn’t been invited to the party because of the type of party it was.

My gaze drifted over to Silas, who was watching me. He smiled and gave me a thumbs-up. I didn’t know what I was going to say to him, so all I could do was offer him a weak thumbs-up in return.

Silas loved Isabelle more than anything else in his life. He would do anything for her. But what was he going to do when faced with either continuing his ban on Christmas or making it so his daughter got invited to parties?

He couldn’t very well tell Mrs. Turnbow to change the theme of the party so his daughter could go. His powers didn’t reach that far.

This was a conundrum. I wasn’t sure he knew what he would do, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to be the person to present it to him.

Things with Silas were going well because he knew I wasn’t going to push him when it came to Isabelle.

But if she was feeling left out, maybe it was time for Silas to reconsider his ban.

Luckily, I was too busy getting the kids organized to come face-to-face with Silas.

The kids were back behind the plywood cutouts that Todd had made and Silas and I had painted.

They were nervous but looked adorable. Mrs. Kellington, the high school home economics teacher, had offered to sew costumes last minute.

Once word got out that I was going against the ban and hosting this play, everyone in town came out of the woodwork to help. It gave me hope that if, someday, Silas saw the error in his ways, perhaps Christmas could return to Grinchland.

One could hope.

I stayed in the back to direct the children out.

We waited in anticipation while the parents and family members took their seats.

Once the clock hit seven, I stepped out and did a short introduction.

I thanked the people who helped put the play together and the kids for being such good sports.

Everyone cheered, and I could feel Silas’s gaze on me.

It warmed me in every way possible. I wanted him to always look at me this way, and I feared how it would change when I confronted him about Isabelle. Would he hate me?

I pushed those thoughts from my mind as I returned to the kids. Right now, it was about their hard work and this play. The opening scene was set up by the sixth-grade volunteers, so I knelt down in front of Isabelle and met her gaze head-on.

“You ready, girlfriend?” I asked.

Isabelle nodded. She had a white beard hooked around her ears and a suit that was about two sizes too big, but she looked excited.

I knew it probably wasn’t kosher, but I pulled her into a quick hug. I’d fallen in love with this little girl and I wanted the best for her. I was going to try my hardest to get her everything a little girl deserved.

“Break a leg,” I whispered before I turned her toward the entrance.

It took her a moment before she started to timidly walk out onto the makeshift stage we’d set up. The spotlight—which was just a flashlight controlled by the janitor, Mr. Rex—turned on her. She stood there, frozen in place.

I waited…and waited…for her to speak. In all the rehearsals, she had been our shining star, so her lack of confidence now was out of character.

I watched as her skin paled, and a weak, “Daddy,” could be heard throughout the silent gym.

I’d never seen someone move as fast as Silas did in that moment. He was out of his chair and to her side in the blink of an eye. It took a moment for me to process what was happening as he scooped her up and cradled her in his arms.

Then he turned and faced the audience. “This play is over. Everyone go home. The ban is still in effect.” His voice boomed through the air.

Finally, my brain caught up with what was going on and my feet started moving in Silas’s direction. He didn’t waste any time as he gathered Isabelle’s things and headed toward the doors that led outside.

“Silas,” I called after him, but he didn’t stop.

He kept moving, and I had to run to catch up with him. He finally cut me a break when he had to stop to put Isabelle in the car and load her things in the bed of his truck. He’d slammed her door and was headed to the driver’s side when I reached out and grabbed his arm. He froze.

“Silas,” I said, my voice breathy from the impromptu jog I’d just done to reach him. “Can we talk?” I dipped down with the hopes of catching his gaze. I needed him to take a moment and breathe instead of just reacting.

“This is over,” he whispered.

I blinked as I knit my eyebrows together. “What?”

Finally, he glanced up at me with a look of fire in his eyes. His jaw was set and his body was tense. “This”—he motioned between us—“is over. Christmas in Grinchland is banned. It has been banned for the last three years and will continue to be banned for as long as I can keep it that way.”

“But, Silas—”

“Stop trying to change things. You don’t live here. You’re only here for three months and then you’re leaving.” His eyes narrowed. “I was being reckless.”

“Reckless?” I stared at him. Was he serious? Why was he doing this? “Isabelle just had some stage fright, that’s all. That happens sometimes. If you had just waited—”

“No. No, you don’t understand.” He shook his head as he turned to grab his door handle.

I reached out and grabbed his hand. This wasn’t what I wanted. I wanted to help, not drive him away. “Isabelle wasn’t invited to Catalina’s party because it’s a Christmas party, Silas. A Christmas party.”

Silas paused as I watched my words sink in. For a moment, I allowed myself to believe that he was going to change his mind, and the longer he stayed quiet, the more hopeful I became. Until he resolutely nodded his head and yanked open the door handle. “Then Janice was right to exclude Isabelle.”

“But, Silas—”

“Goodbye, Clara.”

Tears began to form on my eyelids as I helplessly watched Silas climb into his truck and slam his door.

I moved to the patch of grass in front of his hood as he started his engine and his lights turned on.

He put his truck into reverse and looked up, his gaze landing on me for a moment before he brought his arm up to the passenger seat and twisted so he could see over his shoulder.

He didn’t look at me again as he straightened out his truck, put it into drive, and took off out of the parking lot.

I waited for a few minutes with the hopes that Silas would come to his senses and drive back.

I waited in vain.