Page 11 of A Curvy Wonderland

Holly shrugged. “Hmm…” I waited for her to say more, but then she told the girls to put their gloves and hats back on before we walked back out into the cold air.

That was another thing I didn't like about the wintertime—wearing all the extra layers all the time. I wondered what it would be like when I left for college in Florida, and I wouldn’t have to worry about the gloves and hats and scarves all the time.

The four of us walked down the hill into town, and Tatum and Lucy took turns holding Bob's leash. He was well enough trained that he walked right beside whoever was holding the leash without tugging or pulling, so I didn't have to worry too much about him getting away from them.

We walked past the people doing the snowman competition in the town square, and Holly said, “I think that's my friend Carolyn… No, it can't be. She would never do that without her parents making her. She almost doesn't like Christmas as much as you,” she said to me.

While leading Bob along, Tatum said, “Why doesn't she like Christmas?”

Holly shrugged. “She’s never really said, but I think it's been hard for her since her parents divorced.”

Tatum looked thoughtful. “One of my friend's parents got divorced and she gets double Christmas presents every year.”

Lucy skipped alongside me, singing, “I wish our parents were divorced.”

Holly chuckled at that, and I cracked a smile too, even if it was only for half a second. Little kids saw the world so differently.

“You have the best parents ever,” Holly told her.

Lucy seemed to agree with her, going on ahead to trade Tatum dog walking duties.

We reached the retirement community, and when we went inside, the receptionist recognized Bob and me. “Back again for a visit?” Marco said.

“Actually…” I began and then told Marco what we were doing. He led us back to the big activity room and introduced us to an older man named Clifford. He had a dark gray beard, no hair atop his head, and sat in a wheelchair. He lit up when he saw the four of us.

Marco said, “You have some guests today.”

“I didn't think I would get any visitors this holiday,” Clifford replied with a stroke of his beard.

Holly smiled brightly at him saying, “Looks like you had a little Christmas angel looking out for you.”

Marco told us, “We're about to start gingerbread house decorating. Do the five of you want to do it together at a table?” The two younger girls instantly said yes, but Holly looked to Clifford. “Does that sound good to you?”

The old man nodded, making his beard bump against his chest. “It's been a while since I've decorated a gingerbread house. Since my kids were little. Do you think you girls can teach me?” he asked Tatum and Lucy.

They nodded confidently, and Lucy said, “I'm really good at it. I'll teach you everything.”

Clifford chuckled at her confidence, and then we followed Marco to a big square table on the edge of the common room.

Marco said, “Here you are. Eldan, is it okay if Bob mingles around the room like last time? Everyone will be so happy to see him.”

“Of course,” I answered, unleashing Bob.

Clifford rolled his chair to sit on one end, Holly and I sat next to each other in chairs, and then the girls sat on the booth along the wall. Soon we each had a small gingerbread house kit to start working on while Christmas music played over loudspeakers. I wasn’t as grated by the tunes as I usually was.

It had been several years since I'd built a gingerbread house, although maybe not as long as Clifford. When I was younger, my parents used to have activities for all of us to do together. But now that I am older, I kept myself busy with books I was reading, puzzles, and working around the Christmas tree farm for some extra spending money.

But this setup was pretty self-explanatory. They had several bags of frosting for us to use, graham crackers, and bowls of sprinkles and gumdrops to decorate with.

The girls instantly set to work, telling Clifford what to do and showing him how they were building their houses.

Holly hummed to the music as she set about creating her gingerbread house, not in a square shape but in an octagon. She worked methodically and sometimes as she was gluing, her tongue would stick out the side of her mouth like she was deep in focus.

It was… cute.

Wait. My eyebrows drew together.Was I really thinking of someone as cute?Someone who loved Christmas as much as Holly did? Not a chance.

I looked down at my gingerbread house and began gluing the sides together with frosting just for the sake of having something to do with my hands while my brain went wild with thoughts of what that meant.

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