Page 73 of Single All the Way

It’d been less than forty-eight hours since Ben’s declaration of love. I’d slept in his room for most of last night again. There was something so comforting about sleeping beside someone you trusted.

I kept waiting to freak out about his confession. I was nervous around the edges, but he was insistent that he didn’t expect more from me, wasn’t asking for more, so mostly I’d savored the warm feelings and not let myself worry about the day I moved out.

“What do you imagine my grandson and your boy cooked up for this?” Berty asked. She was bundled up for the day like the rest of us, plus had two blankets tucked around her, saying her old blood wasn’t as thick as it used to be.

“I’m thinking costumes are involved somehow,” I said.

“Maybe Daddy’s dressed up as the Grinch!” Ruby suggested, her eyes afire with excitement.

“Daddy’s not Grinchy though,” Evelyn pointed out. “Maybe reindeer?”

“Xavier might be Rudolph!” Skyler guessed.

At that moment, the red convertible carrying the mayor and this year’s honorary grand marshal, Leo Montague, an eighty-five-year-old veteran, eased around the corner to our block, causing an uproar. Our three girls held hands and jumped up and down in front of Berty and me. Their joy was infectious.

Berty reached her mittened hand over and squeezed mine, her lined face reflecting the same ageless joy the girls emanated.

Finally I got it. I felt it completely. Holiday magic. Christmas spirit. Call it what you want, but it was tangible and real on the square today. And maybe even in my heart, thanks to Ben.

The kids were so revved up about Kizzy and her wife’s upcoming visit, never mind Santa and presents and Christmas morning. I found it impossible not to feel it with them, as Ben had predicted.

We watched the lead car go by, decked out in strings of flashing lights and holiday ornaments hanging from them. The grand marshal waved as the mayor played Christmas carols on a harmonica, pausing periodically to call out “Happy Holidays!” or “Merry Christmas!”

Elves of all sizes danced and frolicked behind the car and around the floats behind it, tossing candy to the crowd. The girls had brought grocery sacks to carry their treasures and were wasting no time filling them up.

The next vehicle was a Jeep decked out with light strings and a full-sized, decorated Christmas tree set up on the roof.

After that came the Earthly Charm float, a flatbed truck with literally hundreds of candles set up on dozens of platforms. Harper, Cambria, and Dakota were dressed in sexy, sparkly dresses, one red, one green, one silver, with Santa hats to match, waving and blowing kisses to the crowd. I was sure the candles were lit with LEDs, but the effect was magical, even in the daylight.

Behind them was the high school marching band, which had Skyler plugging her ears, making Berty and me laugh.

More floats followed, some more intricate than others, with most of them keeping the girls enthralled and helping them fill up their bags.

There were all kinds of characters, costumes, more elves, a group of reindeer made of pairs of people in each costume, which was hilarious to watch.

The organizers had picked winners in numerous categories—student, spiritual, nonprofit, musical, mounted, vehicle. I remembered Xavier’s excitement about the prize list and wondered if there was any way he could’ve won something. Even something small. He’d be thrilled to get a prize, whatever his entry was.

The Rusty Anchor had a beer trolley powered by eight people on each side—Holden and his brothers included—pedaling as they imbibed. Above the pedalers was a banner that read, Green Award, Most Earth-Friendly Entry.

Berty leaned over to me eventually and said, “I think if Ben and Xavier were just doing costumes, they wouldn’t’ve required so much time in the workshop. I think they built something.”

“They did spend hours out there,” I said.

Ben had devoted countless hours to my son’s idea, whatever it was, in one of the outbuildings that had been deemed off-limits to the rest of us. They’d worked all day last Sunday and until Xavier’s bedtime every night last week. I’d worked at the salon yesterday, but Berty had stayed with the girls so the guys could finish up whatever it was they were concocting.

There was a bagpipe group, several horses and riders, more floats than I ever would’ve believed possible from this small town, and candy. So much candy.

Loretta Lawson’s Fat Cat Yarn Shop float featured two gigantic balls of yarn, one in red, one in green, with oversized needles sticking out. Loretta herself sat in an armchair in front of a decorated tree, knitting away. The impressive part was the display of hand-knitted mittens. Twine hung from one end of the float to the other, dipping in U-shapes, laden with pairs of mittens clothes-pinned side to side. There must’ve been several hundred pairs in every color of the rainbow, big ones, small ones. They were made by her knitting group, I knew, and she donated some to charity and sold the others, then gave the proceeds to charity.

I promised the girls we’d track down the mittens after the parade, and I’d buy them each a pair. They were entranced by the choices, animatedly discussing which ones they liked best until they’d see yet a different pair they preferred.

The crowd’s excitement grew louder as the next float rounded the corner. Monty Baynes, owner of the Dragonfly Diner, drove the truck that pulled the float. In the back of his pickup, a large two-sided banner was proudly displayed: Overall Winner, Commercial Category. As the float got closer, I saw why.

The first thing I noticed was the dozens of strings of multicolored dragonfly-shaped lights. In the center was a Christmas tree and next to it, two kids pretending to sleep in a bed that was in the shape of a giant waffle. Above them, more giant waffles speckled with blue and purple sprinkles, cooked eggs, and strips of bacon were strung. On the side was a sign that read, Visions of Dragonfly Dust Waffles Danced in Their Heads.

“Isn’t that the cleverest thing,” Berty said with a hoot of amusement.

“Effective. I’m craving waffles now,” I said, laughing. And we’d just had Humble’s slices for lunch.

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