Page 65 of Light Up My Life

“Mrs. O’Leary to the rescue,” Fiona said.

“We probably shouldn’t—” I started.

“We’d love a ride!” Fiona said, rushing for the car.

I followed after her slowly. Mrs. O’Leary was going to ask nosy questions and report my answers to whomever would listen. No, it would be fine. The last two times I’d seen her, I’d been with Ryan and had to hide that fact. Today, I was with Fiona. There was nothing to hide about that.

Mrs. O’Leary turned in her seat as we climbed in. “It’s a nasty one out there today. What are you girls up to?”

“Surveying the dark houses,” Fiona said.

I elbowed her.

“Surveying?” Mrs. O’Leary asked, turning back around to continue driving.

“Just a project for school,” I said. “About inspiration.” The vent on the console in front of us was spitting out warm air. I set the clipboard in my lap and held my hands in front of it, letting my fingers thaw.

“And what do the dark houses have to do with it?”

“If Christmas isn’t their inspiration, we want to find out what is.” That seemed like a believable enough lie. But I could see Mrs. O’Leary’s eyes in the rearview mirror, and they seemed to squint in disbelief.

“I hope you told them they’re a disappointment to the neighborhood while you were at it,” she said with a smile. But I could tell she was at least halfway serious in her statement. She probably wanted to put out a flyer demanding we all hang at least ten thousand lights, no less. At least I knew she wasn’t the Scrooge.

Fiona laughed. “I’m sure Jasmine wanted to.”

“I did not,” I protested. I honestly didn’t care that some people didn’t want to or couldn’t decorate for the holidays. It was a lot of work. And some people didn’t celebrate Christmas. I got that. I was just scared of losing the ability for myself, for the town.

Mrs. O’Leary laughed along with Fiona. “Well, I’m glad I could rescue you from the snowstorm.”

“Yes, thank you,” I said.

She slowed to a stop in front of my house. “Tell your moms I say hi.”

“I will,” I said. “Drive safe.”

I got out of the car and, through the fluttering snowflakes, I saw Mr. Lenny outside shoveling his walk.

“Fiona! I’ll be right back,” I called. She’d gotten out on the other side and was already walking toward my house.

I quick-walked to Mr. Lenny. “Do you want me to come shovel for you when the snow stops?” I asked.

“I don’t like it to pile up,” he said.

I pulled out my phone to check the weather app. “Three more hours of snow, Mr. Lenny. Marcus and I will come over and shovel for you later.”

“Thank you, Jasmine,” he said. “That’s nice.” He leaned his shovel against the house under the porch.

I started to walk back toward my house, where I could now see my brothers outside throwing snowballs at each other.

I turned. “You said your daughter is coming for Christmas, right?” I asked Mr. Lenny.

“Uh, I, I’m not, maybe,” he stuttered out, as if my question caught him off guard.

“Sorry,” I said. I hadn’t meant to put him on the spot. “If she doesn’t, you should come over for Christmas dinner.”

His eyes were on the ground. “It might be too crowded for me.”

“We are pretty rowdy,” I said. “I get it. But you’re welcome to if you want.”