“That’s Ms. Grindley,” his mama corrected. “Say hey.”
I nodded when he smiled and waved. It felt… nice.
Aziza climbed out of the face-paint chair with a glittery snowflake on one cheek and a tiny Christmas tree on the other. She looked incredibly pleased with herself.
“How I look?” she demanded.
“Like a holiday hazard,” I teased.
Her daddy kissed her forehead. “Like my favorite problem.” He was going to be so mushy.
I loved it.
She beamed and slipped her hand into his like it was the most natural thing in the world. We wandered the little village together. Aziza tried to drag us to every booth. Jabali and I argued about whether peppermint belonged anywhere nearchocolate. I still felt every stare, heard every whisper. But it didn’t feel like I was drowning this time.
“Hey, Ms. Grindley, We saw the trees on the hill when we drove by. They real pretty. Thank you,” a teenage girl called.
I almost looked behind me to see who she was talking to.
“Thankyou,” I said.
Something in my chest loosened a little more.
We stopped near the middle of the field, where someone had set up tall heaters and benches. Aziza spotted Zoriah with a group of kids and gave us the saddest, most hopeful look when Zo called for her.
“Go. Stay where I can see you,” I said.
“Yes, ma’am.” She took off, her pom-pom bouncing, cocoa held high like a trophy.
I managed to sound calm, but my nerves spiked. Lord, this was hard on my overprotective self. We watched her join the group. She did that little hover thing kids do, standing close but not inserting herself yet. Zoriah tugged her closer. Aziza lit up and joined their circle.
“She looks… happy,” I admitted.
“She is. Good job, Mama,” he answered.
He stepped a little closer. Our shoulders brushed. The smell of cocoa and his cologne did crazy things to my nervous system.
“You good?” he asked.
I thought about lying. “I’m… getting there,” I said instead.
We stood like that for a minute. Watching our daughter. Letting the town see us. Letting myself be seen. I had this moment where I realized I wanted to fight for this. For her. For him. For us.
Even if it meant coming down off my hill.
Mayor Alayna made her way over to us, smiling big and bright as all the lights strung around us.
“Kyleigh, thank you, thank you, thank you so much for re-thinking. You don’t know what it means to the town… to me, really. Those trees look good and the generators are safe, reputable, and as clean as they can be. I?—”
“It’s okay,” I tried to calm her nervous rambling. I could tell how much she cared about this, and it was kind of humbling.
“You ready for the lighting of the big one tomorrow?” she asked happily.
I sighed. “As ready as I’ll ever be,” I admitted truthfully.
Jabali grabbed my hand, squeezed it. I looked up at him and smiled. I’d be okay. I knew that. With him by my side, everything just might be okay.
Of course, that’s when Shayla showed up.
