She was bursting at the seams at reaching her goal.
And I decided that no matter what it took, I was going to make sure she hit her goal every damn year.
“Sounds like you’re going to need to learn to wrap presents,” the resident gift-wrapper said. “I’m going to need a hand.”
I guess it was time to learn the skill.
Especially if I had presents to buy and wrap for Steph.
It would be another first for me.
Stephanie - 4 Days
“It’s happening!” I squealed as the trucks pulled out of the lot, each heading to different shelters across the city. Every one of them was full of colorfully wrapped paper hiding toys, games, beauty supplies, clothes, everything my heart had hoped when I’d taken up the mantle of director.
I wasn’t naive.
I knew a huge part of the reason it actually happened was thanks to Venezio and that last ‘donation’ from the Family.
But I didn’t care.
It didn’t matter.
All that mattered was those kids were going to wake up feeling the joy of Christmas morning, that none of them were going to wonder why Santa had forgotten them, or what they had done to end up on the naughty list.
Next year, with or without the Costa donation, I would do the same. Or more. Maybe I could try to include presents for the moms, who could surely use a little joy as well. Or for kids in domestic violence shelters.
I would have a whole year to prepare this time.
It was going to be amazing.
But I wasn’t going to let the hopes for the future outshine the joy of the moment.
“How do you want to celebrate?” Venezio asked, spinning my wheelchair around to face him. “Champagne at a bar? Fancy dinner at a restaurant?”
“Freshly baked cookies in bed with a cheesy made-for-TV holiday rom-com?”
“I see your holiday rom-com and raise you an action-suspense.”
“We’ve been through this.Die Hardis not a Christmas movie.”
“Says who?”
“Me. The Christmas expert between the two of us, I might add.”
“Fair,” he agreed. “What kinda cookies are we making?”
“Chocolate chip. With a side of Snickerdoodle.”
“Sounds good. But we have a check-up with Salvatore on the way home.”
I grumbled at that.
We both knew it had nothing to do with Salvatore, just the whole being laid up thing. I wasn’t used to having to think through literally every aspect of my life. There was no going into the kitchen to get a coffee or food, since there was nowhere for me to stash a cup or plate. There was no taking a shower, making me curse my way through a bath every morning after Venezio undid my bandages but before he slathered on cream and wrapped me back up.
Sure, Venezio was there all the time.
I was just not accustomed to relying on someone else for just about everything.
