They ended up at Craving Clean, with Mr. Hampton—well, he told Benny to call him Marshall—sidestepping people and questions like the former professional running back he was. He took Benny, Olivia, and Kat back into his little office that was a lot like Mom’s, only smaller.
Olivia brought in a blanket—pink, but he didn’t care—and wrapped it around him while Marshall went out into the kitchen to get them…something.
“Kat has to stay in the office,” Olivia told him, “or she’ll go crazy if there’s food on that kitchen counter.”
He nodded, swiping his face, hoping he was done crying. His nose was stuffy, and his eyes burned like more tears could show up and slide down his cheeks any second.
“Benny, this was my fault.” Her voice sounded raspy and like she might cry again, too. “I shouldn’t have pushed for this.”
“I pushed for it, too,” he said, not sure why but he didn’t want her to feel the guilt he felt. Nobody should feel like this. “It’s not your fault.”
“I feel so bad,” she said, obviously not taking the pass he was giving her. “If anything happened to your great-grandfather…” Tears welled up. “I love him, too, you know. Not like you do, obviously, but he’s funny and he’s always so nice to me and…and…” A sob caught. “Benny, I’m so sorry.”
“Why are you sorry?” Marshall asked as he walked back in, catching the end of that.
She looked up at him. “This was all my fault. I was pushing and pushing?—”
“It’s okay, Olivia,” Benny said, quieting her. “Please don’t cry. You know as well as I do that it’s my fault.”
“Then it’s both our faults.”
Marshall crouched down across from him, elbows resting on his knees as he looked from Benny to Olivia. His face looked tired and serious but not angry, not even a little.
“I think both of you need to tell me why you’re taking the blame for this.”
They both exhaled at the same time, sharing a look.
“It was my idea,” Olivia said.
“And I went along with it,” Benny added. “In fact, I think I was the one who told that lady we could make a deal.”
“Adeal?” Marshall asked as if the word really mattered to him.
“For Red to be Santa if…”
Once again, he and Olivia exchanged looks. Which one of them was going to tell him they were?—
“If she would tell Gracie and me to make a gingerbread house together,” Marshall finished, slowly nodding like Red when he finished the Sunday crossword puzzle. “Was this…your idea?”
“Mine.” Benny and Olivia said the word at exactly the same time, in perfect unison. If smiling were possible right then, Benny might have grinned at her.
“So, it was a group effort,” Marshall said. “And…your mom?” he asked Benny.
“Was pretty mad at me,” he said. “When she found out what we did, she told me I shouldn’t meddle and that she would tell you and call off the whole thing but then she didn’t and I don’t know why, so…”
“It was me, Dad,” Olivia interjected into his breathless explanation. “Benny went along with it, but I just wanted you and Miss Gracie to…you know.”
“Oh, I know,” he said, with the slightest smile as he gave Benny a look. “Women,” he whispered softly.
“Grandpa says you can’t live with ’em and you can’t bear life without ’em.”
Marshall snorted softly. “Wise words from a great man.”
Benny felt his face crumple. “He is! Which is why?—”
Marshall put a hand over Benny’s arm. “He’s too tough to die, Ben. I promise you. And he’s in good hands. Your mom texted and said they already have him with a doctor in the ER and they’re running tests. She said kids are allowed in the waiting area, so if you want to go, we can.”
“Okay.” His shoulders collapsed.
