“Oh, baby. That’s too bad. Your dad had to work a little later, did he?”
Maise simply nods, dropping me in it.
“Well, you know what? I was there earlier, and I bought some things.” CC stands and takes the basket from Hank. “You take mine, sweetheart.”
Celeste hands Maisey a candy apple, bright red and wrapped in transparent cellophane.
Maisey’s eyes light up, rounding as she peers into the basket. There’s a bunch of candy apples, cotton candy, and candy canes. “These are all for you?!”
“Me and you, but we have to eat them slowly.” CC winks at her.
She bought half the damn stand. It’s a shit ton of sugar.
Maisey flies into her arms, hugging her tight.
Celeste meets my gaze. “Before you say no outright, I planned on making these last all year. I wasn’t sure which was her preference, so I got a few of everything.”
I don’t know what to say.
I don’t know what has stolen my words...
The fact that Celeste plans on staying that long, or that she intends on spending it with Maisey.
Emotion thickens my airways, and I shift my gaze to the little girl still wrapped around the woman I can’t get out of my head. Not since our almost kiss.
Caleb shuffles, pointing something out to Hank. And the moment is over.
“Come on, Maise, let’s go see the tree lights.” I extend a hand to her.
She still clings to Celeste. “I’m going to watch it with CC, Daddy. You can come if you want.”
How generous, kiddo.
“Sure thing.” I meet Celeste’s gaze, and she smiles, assenting.
“You guys coming to watch the tree?” Celeste turns back, holding the basket out to Hank. He looks at it but walks off with Caleb, obviously forgetting the last few minutes.
With a soft sigh, Celeste adjusts the handle of the basket over her arm. She keeps checking on Hank as he moves through the crowd.
“Caleb won’t let him wander off,” I offer.
“I know. I still worry. Not everyone is used to needing eyes in the back of their heads to?—”
Her head dips as she takes in my ‘oh yeah’ face.
“I guess you’re the exception. You seem to have this parenting thing down, so...”
I chuckle at that. “No, Celeste. Nobody does. Sometimes we get lucky, and it just looks that way.”
The music stops abruptly, and the speakers crackle before a whiny screech sails through them from a microphone somewhere. The town mayor steps up onto a rickety platform in front of the tree.
“Alright, folks. Welcome! Welcome to the annual Grafton Christmas tree lighting. We are so excited for the holiday season and all the fun it brings. So, without further delay, light her up!”
The crowd falls silent as a young boy bends down and flicks a switch at the base of the tree.
Rainbow hues of green, red, silver, and warm gold explode over every bough. Gasps rapture through the audience, cheers and applause growing as the mayor swings her arms toward the tree. “Merry Christmas, Grafton!”
“Merry Christmas!” the crowd chants back.
