Page 74 of Eight Days of Christmas
“You remember who you’re talking to, right? I don’t do simple. I want to win.”
“Right,” he stretched out the word. “My mistake.” He chuckled.
With a bit more frosting on the roof, and a couple globs draping down the sides, she directed Leo to the bowl of Chex cereal. “Okay, and now for the shingles.”
“I will do my best.”
Next to them, Norah and Landon’s house looked like Christmas had thrown up all over it. Icing had been sporadically squeezed out, and red- and white-swirled peppermints stuck to the sides while M&M’s and sugary gumdrops sat in piles, not even attached, and mini marshmallows drooped from the roof.
An agitated Landon put his face in his palm, muffling a groan.
“I’m sorry, but maybe if you gave me better directions…” Norah was saying.
Isabella studied her and Leo’s house again. It didn’t look so bad compared to the competition. “It’s looking good,” she told Leo.
“That’s because we make a good team,” he said, his voice low and growly.
Her chest fluttered. They did make a good team. They’d always made a good team.
With icing on his fingers, Leo reached his hand around to her face, smearing icing on her cheek and nose, a clump of it landing on her chest and rolling down her shirt. She squealed, shoving his hand away.
“Ack! The icing goes on the house, Leo, not on me. It’s all over my shirt.” She laughed, attempting to wipe it off.
He nudged the blindfold up a bit, sneaking a peek at her. He leaned in close, whispering, “Somebody’s gonna taste sweet tonight.”
She tucked her chin to her chest as a tingle swept up the back of her neck, making her heartbeat race. When she glanced up, Finn watched her with a curious stare.
Uh oh, caught again.
Despite them making a good team, Isabella and Leo lost, beaten by a five-year-old. Mom was definitely playing favorites.
Or maybe their house hadn’t been so marvelous after all. Was she losing her touch, or were she and Leo not working together as well as she thought? How could they even think about getting back together if her life was in New York, and Leo’s was in Pineridge? Where would home be?
Isabella didn’t know how or if they’d ever be able to compromise. And if she was being truly honest with herself, she wasn’t positive which she could give up—New York or Leo.
Besides the cracklingfire and the volume low on the TV playing the animated version ofHow the Grinch Stole Christmas, the Whitley house was peaceful. Leo and Landon left after the competition to hang Christmas lights on the outside of their dad’s house to surprise him when he got home from work. Finn and Nina drove into town to do Santa’s Christmas shopping, leaving Ava with Mom and Dad and Norah had gone to the indoor skating rink.
Wanting to take advantage of the calmness, Isabella padded into the living room. A bit of the heaviness in her gut subsided when she found little Ava asleep, her head rested in Mom’s lap. The last people who deserved an explanation of why she hadn’t been home for so long should’ve been higher on her list. Mom and Dad had been so patient with her this week, waiting for her to come to them.
When Isabella sat on the loveseat, tucking her feet underneath her, both parents fixed their eyes on her, almost as if they knew. But didn’t parents always know?
Her throat thickened, and she inhaled a deep, pained breath.
“You okay?” Dad asked.
“I’m fine,” she mumbled.
Mom gave her a skeptical look. “What is it, sweetie?”
Ava stirred, and Mom swept her fingers over her rosy cheek before pushing them through her granddaughter's curly brown hair.
“I’ve been wanting to explain…about why I haven’t been home for so long,” Isabella began.
Dad scooted to the edge of the sofa. “It’s okay, Izzy. Howard already told us.”
Her breath caught, and she touched her throat, her fingers grazing the pendant necklace dangling there.
“We’ve just been waiting foryouto tell us.” Mom tucked her short hair behind her ears. “You never should’ve had to go through that alone. To make that decision on your own. That’s what we’re here for.”
