Page 60 of My Not-So-Secret Santa

I pick up the craggy, tennis ball-sized black rock with a wide split across the top that reveals glittering purple crystals and turn it to Liv for her approval.

“A geode?”Her teeth flash against the corner of that pink lip as she takes a quick nibble in thought.“Yeah, I think it’s perfect.”

At the register, Liv runs her finger over a delicate gold link bracelet at the register.“For your mom?”

“She’d love it, but Wy and I already got her a fancy new embroidery machine, and she threatened our lives if we got her more than one thing this year.”

As Liv returns the bracelet to its peg, Mrs.Washington asks, “How’s your stepdad doing, Hollis?”

“Well, he’s getting a new wrench set for Christmas,” I say.“So Phil’s about to be the happiest man in town.”

“And how’s his knee?”

“Still bothering him.”

She clucks and slips a small white packet into the bag.“Tell him to try this soak for the bath.It’ll help ease the ache.”Then she leans across the counter to kiss my cheek and wishes us both a happy holiday.

“You too, Mrs.W.Tell your boys to keep studying hard.I expect them to be my bosses someday.”

Liv hugs the bag to her chest when we’re back in the car.“What a great store.”

“Right?Her husband died a few years ago, and she opened this with the life insurance money.Says he’d love to see her supporting herself with the kind of pretty things he used to buy for her.”

She glances over her shoulder as we pull away.“That’s so sweet.”She’s blinking rapidly when she faces forward again.

“Hey, I didn’t mean to make you cry.”In fact, most of what I’m doing these days is expressly trying to keep her from crying.

“They’re not bad tears.”She sniffs, tosses her head, and gets back into personal shopper mode.“Okay, I think you need a little more for both of the older girls.Are you willing to go for a drive with me?”

“Oh my god, please,” I say.“I’m completely at your mercy.”

She giggles at the despair she hears in my voice, unaware that I’m speaking honestly on a number of levels.

“Teenage girls aren’t so bad,” she says as she takes over navigation duties.“I mean, I used to be one.”

“Teenage Liv.The way I would’ve wanted to ask you out,” I say with a dramatic sigh.Friends tease each other like this, right?

She wrinkles her nose.“Would’ve wanted to but wouldn’t have?”

We’re on the highway to the outlet mall outside of Chicago, where Liv swears the answers to all my problems are waiting.

“I’m guessing you dated the Wyatts, not the Hollises.Smart guys headed for college, not smart-asses who cut class.”

She winces.“Guilty.But I didn’t know what I was missing,” she says with a sly glance in my direction.

My heart lurches at the suggestion that she means me, then immediately flattens when she changes the subject.“What did Mrs.Washington mean about Wyatt’s recovery?”

My fingers tighten and release on the steering wheel.“He was the living donor for Mom’s liver, and he had a few setbacks afterward.”

“Holy shit.That’s… wow.”She’s silent for a beat and shifts in her seat so she’s facing me.“Let me guess.You wanted to do it but couldn’t for some reason, and you turned it into a personal failing of yours, which is why things were weird that day he came to the restaurant.”

“Jesus Christ,” I mutter.“Am I that easy to read?”

She shrugs.“If you’re paying attention.”

And my jumping-jack heart’s back in the game.

By the time we turn into the outlet mall parking lot, I’ve learned that Liv’s a good singer who belts out Christmas carols on the radio, and I’m a guy who loves listening to Christmas carols when they’re sung by Liv.

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