Page 161 of Play Fake
Inside, the center smells like gingerbread, and paper snowflakes cover the walls. Volunteers buzz around, hanging the last few decorations before tomorrow’s holiday lunch. The kids’ laughter echoes down the hall. It’s loud and imperfect and beautiful.
We drop the presents off in the main office, where one of the staff members thanks us with a warm smile. I’m about to head back toward the truck when I spot him.
Caleb.
He’s curled up on one of the worn couches near the lobby, knees pulled to his chest, staring at the twinkling lights on the tree. His usual spark is dim tonight, replaced by something small and sad that tugs at my chest.
“Hey, bud,” I say softly as I walk over. “You’re up late.”
He shrugs, not looking away from the lights. “Couldn’t sleep.”
I lower myself onto the couch beside him, careful to keep enough space so that he doesn’t feel crowded. “Tomorrow’s a big day.”
“Yeah.” His voice is flat. “Everyone else has somewhere to go. Like…families. Or foster homes. Or a grandma who makes cookies. I don’t.”
My heart twists. I want to tell him he’s wrong. I want to fix it. But I can’t lie to him.
“I know it’s hard,” I say gently. “But that doesn’t mean you’re forgotten. Or unloved.”
He gives a small, skeptical snort, and it just about breaks me.
I glance toward the doorway, where Beck is waiting patiently, watching us with that quiet expression that’s become second nature to him.
I look back at Caleb. “You matter, Caleb. You matter so much more than you think. And one day, you’re going to have a home that’s exactly where you belong.”
His lip wobbles just slightly. He doesn’t cry—he’s too proud for that—but he leans against my arm for just a second before pulling back. It’s small, but it’s everything.
I smile at him softly. “Merry Christmas, Caleb.”
“Merry Christmas,” he mumbles.
The living room is warm and softly lit, the tree twinkling in the corner while a few board games sit scattered on the coffee table. It’s just Mark, Caroline, Joey, Alyssa, Beck, and me tonight—quiet in that perfectlyChristmas Eveway.
Mark leans back in his chair, hands resting over his stomach after too many cookies. “So, Sophie,” he says with a twinkle in his eye, “you ready for the big Harrison family Christmas tomorrow?”
I laugh nervously. “I think so. I’ve been warned there will be a lot of people.”
“‘A lot’ might be underselling it,” Beck mutters.
Caroline swats his arm lightly. “Oh, stop. It’s notthatbad. Just…the cousins, your aunts and uncles, Nana and Pops?—”
“And the dogs,” Joey pipes up helpfully, practically vibrating in his reindeer pajamas.
“And the dogs,” Caroline agrees with a fond smile.
After a few rounds of UNO and a very competitive game of charades—with Alyssa being the undisputed MVP—the younger two start yawning, their sugar highs finally fading. Around eight-thirty, Caroline and Mark herd Joey and Alyssa upstairs to get them ready for bed, and when they come back down, Beck stretches and lets out a long yawn.
“I think we’re gonna head up too,” he says, standing and grabbing my hand to help me up from the couch.
Caroline raises a brow, her smile mischievous. “Both of you? Upstairs?”
I feel my cheeks warm immediately, but Beck just rolls his eyes. “Yes,Mom. We’re just sleeping.”
Caroline’s grin widens. “Mmhmm. I think I’ve said that before too.”
“Babe,” Mark says with a chuckle, shaking his head. “Don’t pester the poor kid too much.”
Caroline waves him off, laughing. “I’m just teasing. Goodnight, you two.”
