Page 38 of The Snuggle is Real
“Bowls, butter knives, maybe some plates to keep the mess contained?”
“You got it.”
He grabbed the rest of the supplies, and we got everything set up. Just as I was wondering what had happened to Charlie, she ran in wearing a pajama set covered in candy canes.
“Oh, you’re dressed for the occasion,” I said. “Now I feel so drab in my boring brown sweater.”
Charlie giggled. “Ford bought these for me. Everything here is so Christmasy! It’s fun.”
“It is fun.” I set a snowman-shaped cookie on the plate in front of her. “Okay, you can take this butter knife to spread frosting over the cookie, and—whoa, maybe not that much!”
Charlie scooped a huge glob onto the cookie and smeared it around.
Ford grabbed two more cookies. “Here, let’s share the wealth.”
Charlie didn’t seem to care that her cookie looked more like the abominable snowman than Frosty. She grabbed the red and green glitter and dumped a smattering over top.
Well, now the snowman had bling.
Ford stopped trying to rein in her over-the-top decorating and eventually gave in to the inevitable, retaking his seat.
I decorated a Christmas tree with green frosting, a light dusting of red glitter, and dabs of red, blue, and yellow frosting to represent ornaments.
“That’s so good!” Charlie enthused when I set the finished cookie on the wax paper next to hers. “I can’t wait to put up our Christmas tree! Can we do that tonight too, Ford?”
“Oh, I don’t know, kiddo. It’s already kind of late, and I have all that stuff tucked away in a closet.”
“Please?”
With a groan he pushed away from the table. “Let me see what I can find.”
Charlie resumed decorating. Judging by the muttering and bangs coming from the other room, Ford could use some help.
“I’ll be right back. Keep frosting. You’re doing great.”
Charlie beamed at me, a streak of blue frosting across one cheek. She’d probably need a bath before bed at this rate, but at least she was having a great time.
I found Ford in a bedroom in the back of the house. His bedroom, by the looks of it. I stopped at the threshold, suddenly aware I probably shouldn’t enter without knocking.
“Everything okay?”
“Not really.” He gestured to the bedraggled tree lying on its side. “I haven’t set this thing up in years.”
“Oh. Well, maybe with some fluffing and decorating…”
He huffed a laugh. “Not sure it’s salvageable. Truth is, I haven’t gotten along with Christmas since my divorce.”
I leaned against the doorjamb. “No other family to celebrate with?”
“My mom is down in Florida. She used to fly in for Christmas Day, but eventually she decided it was just too painful a reminder. Losing my sister and all...”
“Oh, I’m so sorry.”
“Yeah. Heart defect caught us all by surprise,” he said. “Anyway, it’s too painful for Mom to be here. Just reminds her of Nicole.”
I nodded. “But what about you?”
“What about me? I’m fine.”
