Page 14 of The Bad Boy's Secret Santa

“Ah.”

“He’s been donating the money his uncle left to him.” I bite my lip, cutting myself short, before I confess that I’ve definitely fulfilled the “spend time with him” Secret Santa rule. The last thing I want to do is break Rule Number One: tell no one.

“What a lovely gesture.”

I nod, feeling my color rise a bit at the thought of how we’ve been spending our time together. I mean, it’s not just been of the hot and bothered variety. Ihavebeen getting to know more about his life. Like how he decided to go back to college after he turned twenty-one to get his accounting degree and finished in two years. I heckle him for being a total nerd, but the truth is, his intelligence only makes him hotter.

Grandma Wilma brings a fresh loaf of bread over to the counter where I’m sitting, knife raised to slice, when she pauses to look at me. “What’s wrong sweetie?”

“How do you know if people follow the rules?”

“Pardon?”

“For the Secret Santa event. How do you know if someone, say, spends the required time with their recipient? And what happens if they don’t? What if someone spends more than twenty five dollars on the gift? What happens if someone accidentally breaks rule number one? Not that I have! But what if someone accidentally slips and tells someone the name they drew? What are the consequences?”

“These are all great questions. We’ll get to them soon enough.” Grandma slides a dessert plate with three small slicesof fresh poppy seed bread in front of me, along with a tub of butter. I’m suddenly glad I forgot to eat lunch. “Tell me how you spent your day.”

My day with Eli was packed full between the food bank, the toy drive, and the community center. “We ran out of time to stop by the animal shelter today, so we’ll do that tomorrow.”

“You two seem to be getting close,” Grandma says, alerting me to the fact that I said that last bit out loud. Her even tone betrays nothing. I can’t tell if she approves or if she’s worried about me. “Would you like some coffee to go with that poppy seed bread? I just put on a pot.”

“Sure.” Try as I may to savor the treat in front of me, the first buttered slice is gone in two bites. “Grandma, do you have something against Eli? I know he broke my heart and all. But that was a long time ago. I think he’s changed. At least, he’s matured.”

“I think he’s turned into a fine young man,” she says, filling two mugs of coffee.

“But?”

“But, there’s something you deserve to know.” She pours a generous amount of creamer into my cup, stirs it with a peppermint stick, and carries it to the table. She does the same for her cup and joins me. “I don’t think you’re going to like what I have to say.”

Well, that sounds ominous.

“Hedidcome for you. That night after the tree lighting. Just like he said he would.”

The coffee mug freezes halfway to my lips. “What?”

“I found out about your plan to run away together, and I…stopped it.”

I’m too stunned for words.

All this time, I thought Eliabandonedme.

I told myself he didn’t want me weighing him down. Because if it had been for any other reason, he would’ve come back for me. I waited for months after graduation, refusing to apply for college. Convinced that he’d return. When I finally gave up hope, I just wanted out of town. I just wanted to leave. Enlisting in the Army seemed like a good way to see the world, so I did.

“I won’t apologize for what I did,” Grandma says after I’ve had a moment to absorb the truth. “I wanted what was best for you, and Eli understood.ThatI commend him for. It wasn’t easy for him, but he did the right thing.”

It still doesn’t explain why he let eleven years go by without so much as an email. If Roy hadn’t passed away earlier this year, how much longer would he have stayed gone? “And now?” I ask her.

“Now you’re both full grown adults.” She pats my hand on the table. “You don’t need me to meddle in your lives.”

“Meddle?” The single word is a lighthearted accusation. Even if she’s tightlipped about some of the inner workings of her Secret Santa event, I strongly suspect she’s the mastermind behind it all. Meddling ought to be her middle name.

“I like Eli,” Grandma admits. “Honestly, I always have.”

I finish my poppy seed bread, feeling oddly…okay.

The betrayal or hurt I expect to feel at such news doesn’t gut-punch me. Maybe it’s because this explanation makes the most sense. It’s a piece of closure that’s been missing. Eli and I were in love.

Still are.

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