Page 93 of Sexted By Santa
Christian beamed. “We made it together.” He nudged Tori’s shoulder. “Didn’t we, Glitterbug? Or should we call you Grouchybug today?”
She tried not to smile, but I saw her lips twitching. “I’m not that grouchy.”
Christian chuckled. “Hey, it’s okay. I’ve got no room to complain. I was a total grouch before I met your dad.”
I inspected my sandwich to find exactly what I liked—roast beef, spicy mustard, tomato, and lettuce. “This is perfect, guys. Thank you both.”
I lifted my sandwich to take a bite but froze when Tori dug into her soup. “Uh…Tori. Are you forgetting something?”
She slurped from her spoon, giving me a disgruntled look. “Nope.”
I cut my eyes to Christian, hoping he’d catch my drift. He did. “She updated the pump in the car,” he said.
I nodded once, choosing not to say anything else, lest I further anger the Tori beast. She was usually more patient with me, and I wasn’t entirely sure if it was simply the frustration with me hovering or if it was a handy excuse to act out because of all the other changes in her routine. School was out of session, Shirley was gone, and a new man had come into our lives. Any one of those was enough to rattle a kid.
“So, what do you two have planned for the rest of the day?” I asked, hoping to keep the conversation light and nudge Tori into a better mood.
“I’m taking Tori to afternoon tea with Aunt Henry.”
“Afternoon tea? Does she really…?”
Christian chuckled. “Oh, she has a whole tea set. She’ll probably serve scones or finger sandwiches. But she doesn’t worry too much about following the exact etiquette of the British. It’s more like playing tea party. If Tori’s lucky, Henry might even break out her extravagant wardrobe and suggest dressing up beforehand.”
Tori perked up. “What kind of clothes does she have?”
“Oh, a lot of gowns, dress gloves, feather boas, fancy hats, sparkly purses. She’s got a bit of everything.” His voice was full of fondness. “Henry could probably own a vintage dress store with the contents of her closet.”
“That sounds fun,” Tori said tentatively.
“It does,” I agreed. “Take photos, okay? I don’t want to miss out.”
“We will,” Christian assured me. “Henry might even have a special Christmassy gown or two.”
Tori’s eyes brightened. “Really? When can we go?”
“As soon as we’re done here.”
“I’m done!”
Nice to see you too, kid.
I glanced at her bowl, which wasn’t finished, but resisted the urge to remind her she needed to eat enough that her sugar didn’t drop. If she administered more insulin than she needed, it could be a problem. But Christian said Henry would probably serve snacks with tea. I could pull him aside and remind him to keep an eye on Tori’s blood sugar levels.
“Well, have fun,” I said, balling up the wrapper my sandwich had come in. “I wish I could be there with you.”
Christian frowned. “We could wait until you’re off work if—”
“No!” Tori protested. “I want to go now. Please?”
“It’s fine.” I stood to toss our trash. “Just tell me all about it later. Text me some pics.”
“We will.”
I dragged Tori into a hug and kissed the top of her head. “Have fun. It’s Christmas Eve. We’ll make cookies for Santa and watch a Christmas movie and make a Christmas wish like every year, okay, bug?”
“Yeah.” She sounded far too unenthused. It wasn’t like her to be so ho-hum about anything Christmas related.
“You okay?” I asked.
