Page 35 of The Snuggle is Real
Charlie gave me two thumbs-up.
Cheesy mac with chicken, it was.
“I work on roofs, and during the winter, there’s too much rain, snow, and ice for big projects. The weather is unpredictable.”
“So you get a holiday vacation like me?”
“I guess so.” I filled a saucepan with water and set it on the stove. “Not for as long though.”
“I got lots of time off,” Charlie said. “They let me leave school early to come here!”
“Lucky you,” I said with a grin.
The lawyer had informed me that they’d gotten a special dispensation with the school to cut Charlie’s year short. It hadn’t made sense to enroll her in a new school for only the few weeks she wasn’t out on holiday break. Instead, she’d brought home some schoolwork that she’d turn in when she returned.
“I usually find some little jobs to do, like clearing folks’ driveways of snow or helping paint or remodel inside. Just until spring rolls around. Then I’ll be up on the roof again.”
“Like Santa!”
I grinned as I pulled the defrosted chicken from the microwave and set about slicing it. “Guess so.”
“Do you think he’ll know to find me here?” Charlie asked, brow creasing.
“Sure, he will. Santa always knows.”
“I don’t know. One year, we had to move and Santa didn’t come. Mama said he must not have got our address updated.”
“Oh.” I fought to maintain a neutral expression as I tipped the chicken into the skillet. “Well, I’ll make sure Santa knows where you are. He’ll come this year for sure.”
Thanks to Mason.
Well, not Mason. The Holiday Hope Foundation. He was just the guy who worked there. It wasn’t as if he was personally paying my way.
My gut tightened uncomfortably. I hated being in this position. My fingers twitched with the desire to pick up the phone and tell him I could take care of my own.
Only, Charlie had missed out enough already, hadn’t she? She’d lost her mom for Christmas. I wasn’t about to cost her Santa, too.
Because maybe she’d gone without before. Maybe she didn’t expect quite as much as I’d first assumed. But she was still a kid who believed in the magic of Christmas, and I’d be damned if I took that away from her over my stupid pride.
I opened the refrigerator and pulled out broccoli. Charlie instantly wrinkled her nose. “Yuck. I don’t like it.”
“Well, you need some vegetables in your diet. Salad?”
She shook her head. “Nuh-uh. I don’t eat leaves.”
I pursed my lips, thinking for a minute. “How about peas and carrots?”
She shrugged. Close enough. I pulled the bag of frozen veggies from the freezer.
I finished up the noodles, drained them, and combined everything with a cheese sauce.
When we sat down to eat, Charlie scarfed her food like a starving urchin.
“Whoa, don’t forget to breathe,” I said with a laugh.
She finished her bite, cheeks bulging, and swallowed with the help of a gulp of milk. “Sorry. I was hungry.”
I checked the time. It was only seven-thirty, but maybe thatwasa bit late.
