Page 22 of A Little Christmas Wish

“I swear, I’m getting gray hairs from you two,” Betsy muttered.

“Don’t worry, Ma. No one can prove a thing.” Baron winked and sat back on the sofa. “Now, did you bring us any dinner?”

“No, but I can order pizza,” Betsy said, pulling out her phone.

“Pizza!” Baron crowed. “Now, you’re speaking my language.”

“Baron? Royal?” Zippy asked.

“Yes?” Royal asked, sitting back down.

Baron moved to the couch with Bandit.

“Do the two of you have letters for Santa?” she asked, looking up at Betsy skeptically.

“Sure do!” Baron said, jumping to his feet and pulling a crumpled list out of his back pocket.

“You carry it on you?” Ink asked dryly.

“Uh, yeah. What if I need to add to it and I don’t have it? Then I might forget what I want.”

“You could write it on your phone,” Zippy told him.

Baron gasped, his hand on his chest as he gave her a comical look of horror. “Santa isn’t digital. Santa likes paper letters. Look, I’ve even said please and thank you.”

Ink had to shake his head with a grin as Baron showed Zippy his letter to Santa complete with what looked to be a long wish list.

Betsy moved closer to him. “She told me that Santa didn’t come the last two years, so she doesn’t believe in him anymore.”

Ink closed his eyes, letting the pain of that wash over him. “We’ll change that.”

“I know,” she whispered. “I convinced her to buy a stocking and we got matching Christmas pajamas for everyone. As well as some gifts.”

“You had fun, then?” He tilted her chin up.

“Yes.”

“Good.” He kissed her lightly.

“There’s something wrong, isn’t there?” she asked, reading him easily.

“I’ll tell you later, Brown eyes,” he told her.

“Okay, enough of the public displays of affection,” Baron protested, shaking his head. “Old people. Gross.”

Both Zippy and Royal nodded.

“Why don’t you guys carry this stuff up to our bedroom?” Betsy suggested. “No peeking.”

“Do you really think that Santa is going to bring you a jet ski for Christmas?” Zippy asked Baron as they moved to gather everything up.

“If you don’t ask, you don’t get,” Baron replied.

“He isnotgetting a jet ski,” Betsy said as they disappeared upstairs. “Right?”

“Well, not from us. And Santa better not get any crazy ideas,” Ink said.

“What’s going on?” Betsy asked as he took her hand and led her to the playroom.

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