Sara looks at my parents. “Why would you do that?”
“Hallmark, we think,” I tell her. “Pretty sure Mom and Mrs. Taft got it into their heads that we’d have to cuddle for warmth. Andthenthey also failed to mention that the neighbor has a snowplow blade on his truck and could have plowed us out as soon as the snow stopped.”
Sara’s jaw drops.
Mom takes another sip while my dad shakes his head.
“It worked, I guess?” Sara says.
“Within an hour of telling Mom that it turned out Levi and I both have big feelings, suddenly the electricity is working and we find out we’ll be able to leave the very next morning.”
Sara looks at my mom like she’s a new and alien creature. “Dad . . .”
“I know. I tried to cancel the Hallmark subscription, but she said I could tell her what she can and can’t watch just as soon as I give up golf.”
Sara nods. “Any good ones on tonight?”
“Holly’s Jolly Holiday,” my mom says.
“Tell me the Rome plan,” I say.
Sara explains, and I can see how hard they’ve tried. They’re basically leaning on redirection and substitution. First, they’re going to have Santa bring the boys mini electric ATVs so they’ll be amazed and excited by a gift they never even knew they wanted.
“They max out at five miles per hour,” my dad reassures me.
I am not reassured. The twins will still find a way to do some major damage.
“I ran over to Roanoke and got two body pillows,” Sara says. “Those long ones? They’re six feet, which is about Dean’s height. And I’m going to put flannel Christmas pajamas on each pillow and tell the boys to squeeze their pillow tight when they Facetime Dean tomorrow. He missed our FaceTime on Friday, but he emailed and said they’ve been having some technical problems, and he’s positive it’ll be fine by Christmas. Then I emailed him last night and told him about the pillow plan. I’m going to have him think of some, like, magic spell or something? I don’t know.”
She slumps again, and I look at my parents for help in filling in the rest of that thought.
My dad explains, “She’s thinking he can tell them a story or a poem about how a part of him is here with them anytime they hug that pillow until he can be with them too.”
“We’re waiting to hear his ideas to see if there’s anything we can add to it to make it feel like Christmas magic,” my mom adds. “Like crushed-up candy cane powder that they sprinkle on the pillows? Or something not sticky.”
“He hasn’t emailed back yet, but he’ll do whatever we ask him to,” Sara says. “I haven’t told him what a big deal this is to Rome, but he’s their dad. He knows.”
I reach over to grab her hand and squeeze. “How can I help?”
“Just be here and act more excited about this than you’ve ever been about anything in your whole life,” she says. “Maybe they’ll buy it?”
But her doubt is clear, and even though we all reassure her, we know that this barely has a chance to work on Gage, much less our little skeptic, Rome.
“I’m proud of you, sweetie,” my dad tells Sara. “Dean is doing a good thing, and the boys may not totally get it now, but they will. They’ll forget about this Christmas with all the future ones coming.”
“Ones where it’ll be too late to keep Rome believing in Santa,” Sara says, “and when he’s not convinced tomorrow, he’ll take Gage with him.”
My mom rubs Sara’s back. There’s nothing to say. There’s nothing left to do but hope for the best.
I clear my throat. “Anyone want to help me think of what to get my brand-new boyfriend that I’ve known my whole life for Christmas?”
This wins a reluctant laugh from Sara, and we get her laughing for real with our increasingly ridiculous suggestions. A nose grooming kit. A singing fish. When my mom offers to let me borrow her sexy Mrs. Claus outfit, everyone is appalled. I decide it’s my cue to leave, and I do, trying to push that particular image from my brain by loudly singing “Rudolph” twelve times in a row in my car.
It’s fine though. I already know exactly what to get Levi. I park at the café but walk over to the town’s only bookstore, finding what I need in record time. I decline an offer to wrap it and hustle it up to my apartment before I go down to pitch in for the last holiday push.
I walk in and Levi smiles at me. “Is there a plan?”
I shrug. “They’ve probably come up with the only one with a chance of working.”
