“It’ll be great. You’ll see.”
His mom hugged him briefly and then gave him an encouraging smile before hurrying off down the hallway.
And Rye turned and headed over to the front door.
A rush of cold air blew in through the door as he opened it, and he shivered and stepped back, lifting his eyes to meet his friend’s.
“Merry Christmas, Rye.”
Jake stood back a couple of feet, bundled up in his Stanford beanie and heavy gray coat. He held a gift wrapped in bright red paper with a big white bow, and his smile was as soft and kind as ever, just like his voice.
Despite the cold, Rye suddenly felt quite warm. Warm and happy. And he returned Jake’s smile.
“Merry Christmas, Jake. I’m... I’m really glad you could come over.”
Yeah, this was what arealChristmas was supposed to feel like, he was sure of it.
He stepped back another step and motioned Jake inside, then he shut the door as Jake removed his hat and coat.
“Did you have anything special for breakfast?” Jake asked.
Rye grinned and started over to the dining table. “We did,” he said, and for once, the words seemed to come almost easily. “My mom showed me how to make something she called monkey bread. And we had quiche. Do you... know what that is?”
Jake’s nod was eager. “I love quiche.”
“It had . . . ham and peppers in it. It was . . . it was really good.”
“My sister cooked this morning, too. Actually, she’s still cooking.” Jake laughed and set the gift on the table. His gaze seemed to linger on the present Rye had for him. He cleared his throat and looked back up at Rye. “She does this every time she comes over. She’s making soup right now, and she made enoughbreakfast foods for me to eat the whole week. I think she might also have plans to make me another casserole or something to freeze.”
“She’s really nice. I... I thought...” Rye felt his cheeks heat up with embarrassment, and he shook his head.
“You thought she might be a little more intimidating, huh?”
Rye frowned. “Intimidating?”
“Uh, yeah... Scary? Sort of. Or threatening. Formidable. Ah, I guess that one’s not much easier, is it?”
“No, actually, I... I know that one,” Rye said, an odd feeling filling his chest. “It was in this book I was reading last week.”
Jake’s expression brightened, and then he nodded. “That’s wonderful. And yeah, hah, sometimes I guess I talk about Kris that way. But she’s actually one of the kindest people I know.”
Rye nodded in agreement, and then he motioned to the table, trying to ignore the twinge of nervousness tickling him again.He’ll love it.“I-I got you...” The words wouldn’t come again, but when he looked back up at Jake, his friend almost seemed at a loss for words too. Rye tried once more. “I got you a gift. It’s... not much. But...”
Together, they sat at the table, and Rye felt a little flurry of excitement as he handed Jake his gift.He’ll love it.The words repeated themselves in his head, and he could almost feel that they were true, especially when he saw the twinkle in Jake’s eyes.He’ll love it.
“I-I hope . . . you love it.”
Jake smiled again, but there was some other emotion in his expression that Rye couldn’t quite place. Jake looked down and started to unwrap the gift slowly, as though he was taking care not to rip the paper. “Thank you, Rye. This is so nice of you. I, uh...”
Jake’s eyes widened, and he trailed off as he placed the wrapping paper on the table. Turning over the small, light-blue box in his hands, Jake blinked and started reading the text on the front, then on the back.
“Rye . . .”
“O-open it,” Rye urged, even though his heart skipped a couple of beats.
“Yeah. I... Rye, this is wonderful. I...” Jake fumbled to open up the box, and then he pulled out a braided bracelet that was dark blue and gray and about half an inch thick.
“It’s . . . made f-from . . .”
