Page 95 of Dropping the Ball

It’s still not as simple as Micah makes it sound. I see now an underwhelming auction was inevitable and not my fault, and that does ease my guilt. But that also means Madison isn’t likely to come up with a solution either. What is the point of tagging her in to deal with an unsolvable problem? If I disrupt her new-mother time, she’s only going to spend the next four weeks stressing about falling short of our goals.

But willshefeel that way?

That’s what I grapple with. If I don’t tag her in, will she always wonder if she could have turned it around if she’d known?

She hasn’t asked for detailed updates because she trusts me.

What does that trust deserve? Peace and protection? Or full transparency?

I know what I want to do for her as her sister. But I know what Madi will want. And they are not the same.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Kaitlyn

I get to theoffice on Monday, tired from wrestling with my decision but determined to tell Madison today. I text her after my morning meetings.

Missing that baby. Can I stop by today after work?

*Picture of Harper with Oliver’s mom*

Oliver’s parents just got in. They will hoard her. Tomorrow?

Yes but I’m jealous

XOXO

I want it over withtoday, but I can at least spend the afternoon figuring out extra fundraising opportunities for next year to offset where the gala will fall short.

It’s late afternoon when Suz pokes her head in my door. “You busy?”

I look up from the reservation site for my parents’ country club. I’m looking for possible open dates to do a charity golf tournament and cross-checking the weather records for the lowest likelihood of rain.

“I’d love a break.”

She disappears for a second then comes in carrying a plate of cookies. She sets them down in front of me, and I gasp. Even through the red cellophane I can see they’re gorgeous.

She hands me a card. “These were just dropped off for you.”

I open the card.

Hey, Katie-Kat,

I know you’re dreading Thanksgiving no matter what you decide. I know your mind is always on New Year’s Eve and the gala. But the best holiday of the year comes in between, and I don’t want you to miss it. It might surprise you to know that I elf myself regularly, and not only do I believe in Christmas music before December, it’s already streaming in my truck this week. And on my morning run. And at the office. And on the jobsite.

These cookies are made by my neighbor, Mr. Nairz, who makes them every year at Christmas and Easter. You can’t buy them even though he’d make a killing if he sold them. He’ll only give them away to people he chooses. He’s had a soft spot for me ever since I helped him build a three-foot-tall gingerbread house to win their family competition a few years ago, so I sweet—pun intended—talked him into making some for you.

Thoroughly Elfed,

Micah

“They’re from Micah,” I say.

“I want to see them. Unwrap it,” Suz demands.

I do, and we ooh and aah. I’m still studying them, amazed, when she announces Khôi and Aisha need to see them too and goes off to get them. There are six, all done in royal icing, from a Tiffany-blue snowflake with a lacy pattern to a Christmas tree hung with finely painted ornaments.

“Thank that man,” Aisha says. “I worked in a bakery during college, and those would not be cheap.”

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