Page 43 of The Santa Rules
I shake my head in laughter. “Noted.” And then I walk off as he shouts behind me.
“Bella? Seriously, no pets. Not even a goldfish!”
I wave a hand in the air as I head down the hall. Once the bell rings, and the last student leaves my room, I get Avery’s booster seat out of Hardy’s truck and load her up in my car.
We’re off to get gingerbread supplies at the Chestnut Mountain Market. We walk through the aisles as Avery excitedly weighs her options between glitter sprinkles and Christmas tree-shaped ones.
“I think we should go with the glitter since it will make the house pop.”
“Can we make trees for the house too?” Avery asks, with the biggest, roundest eyes I’ve ever seen. How does Hardy say no to this?
“What would we use?”
She rubs at her jaw the same way I’ve seen Hardy do a few times, and it sets off butterflies in my stomach at the thought of him.
“We could use an ice cream cone. The pointy kind and glue the tree sprinkles to it.”
“I think that’s an excellent idea!”
We spend way too much time in the candy and baking aisles, and it’s nearly dark when we leave the store.
Headed back to your house now. You and Isaac on your way?
He’s helping me clean up now, then we’re out the door
You’ve got a good one
My mama heart warms at the praise. Isaac and I may have an unconventional relationship, full of oversharing and shenanigans, but I love that kid and I wouldn’t trade him for the world.
We pull into Hardy’s driveway within minutes of each other, and the boys help us carry all our bags inside.
“Jeez, Mom. Did you buy the whole store?”
Hardy offers me a grateful smile. I’m determined to make this a memorable experience for him and Avery, and I hope he can see that in my face and in the multiple shopping bags on his kitchen table.
It’s a team effort as we dump all the contents onto the table and begin organizing ingredients.
“Gingerbread houses?” Hardy asks.
“Yeah, you got a problem with them?”
“No, I’m just surprised you use the kits. You strike me as the kind of person that would bake all that from scratch.”
“Gingerbread is trash. These are for decoration, not eating. There is no point in spending all that time baking to not eat it after. It’s also why we’re making them so early. The Christmas cookie session will come closer to Christmas,” I whisper the last part, so Avery doesn’t hear.
“I like gingerbread,” Avery says.
“Then you can eat yours if your dad says it’s okay. But go wash your hands before we get started. You too, Isaac.”
Isaac grumbles as he follows Avery into the bathroom.
“She’s gonna fill up on all the candy we use to decorate and won’t have room for the house or the trees. That’s why I always stock up on extra beyond what the kits come with, because eating the decorations is half the fun.”
“I’m learning so much,” he says with a small smirk.
An hour later, we’re all a sticky, sugar-glitter covered mess, but Avery has done nothing but laugh and smile the whole time. Even my sullen teenager has gone out of his way to make sure Avery has everything she needs.
“I saw you give Avery that Kit Kat,” I say out of the corner of my mouth when she’s distracted.
