Page 80 of The Merry Matchmaker

“Looks like Santa’s delivering him right into your lap,” said Frankie. “You can just wander on over that way after the concert and stroll by.”

Because he was so interested in you, came the nasty voice of Stef’s ex.

Her bubble of excitement burst. “Maybe not.”

“Don’t chicken out. For all you know, he might have been in The Coffee Stop yesterday looking for you.”

Stef nodded. Her sister made a good point.

“What have you got to lose?”

Nothing. You already are a loser.

The ghost of husband past. Stef told him to go find a rock to crawl under. Frankie was right, she had nothing to lose.

“Welcome, family and friends, to our annual winter fest concert,” the school principal greeted everyone. “The children have been working very hard this year to give you a wonderful concert. So sit back and enjoy and let the fun begin.”

This is one of the good things in life I need to remember to be grateful for, Griff thought as the curtains parted to show several little sugar plum fairies and nutcracker princes dancing to the center of the stage, all students of Mrs. Ballard’s after-school dance program.

“Corky’s next,” Jenn whispered, and got her phone ready as the dancers posed, waiting for the next group of entertainers.

So did Griff. He knew his parents were expecting him to record their grandson’s big moment. And there it came. He aimed his phone and recorded as a line of little boy elves marched across the stage, each holding a giant card with a red letter on it. All together, they spelled Merry Christmas.

“To everyone,” called Corky as they exited stage right after the dancers. He waved to the crowd, thoroughly enjoying his big part.

“Thank God his tummy got better,” Jenn said as everyone clapped.

Corky had complained about his stomach hurting but had managed to wolf down a hot dog and then seemed to feel better. “I think it was nerves.”

“That little ham? More like excitement,” Jenn said.

Either way, Griff was glad Corky hadn’t had to miss out on something he’d been looking forward to.

Meanwhile, the sixth-grade choir had assembled on risers to sing “Jingle Bells,” accompanied by the school’s music teacher on the piano. Another student, standing next to her, jingled bells with enthusiasm.

Corky would be back on soon with his class to sing about “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.” He’d been wearing his felt reindeer antlers around the house for the last two days. Of course, the reindeer antlers reminded him of Santa, and he’d bugged Griff each day to check the paper’s Letters to Santa page to see if Santa had answered his letter yet.

“Maybe the reindeer ate it,” said Griff when their latest attempt got no results, continuing with his blame-the-reindeer plan.

“Reindeer don’t eat letters, Daddy,” Corky said.

“They might if they get really hungry,” Griff replied.

Corky had frowned at that. “We’d better go see Santa.”

“We’d better get you ready for bed,” Griff said. “You’ve got a big day tomorrow.”

And so the Santa bullet had been dodged again. Temporarily.

Corky’s class was about to come out and sing when the teacher’s assistant found Griff and motioned him out of his seat. “I’m afraid we have a problem,” she said after Griff had stepped on half a dozen sets of toes trying to get to the end of the aisle to her. “Corky’s not feeling well.”

Jenn had followed right along behind. “What do you mean?” she asked.

“I’m afraid he’s been a little sick.”

“A little sick,” Jenn repeated. “Oh no. You mean, he...?”

The woman nodded.

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