“Oh.”My face heats up at her words.“Well, I think that’s pointless.Their acceptance of me isn’t gonna depend on how good your casserole tastes.”I shrug.
“Oh, you’re so silly.Maybe not, but good food usually softens any heart.”
My eyes widen.A pang of fear tugs my heart.Oh, damn.How could I forget?
Mr.Evans is a ruthless man who’s demanded results from his sons since they were kids.Even Laird hasn’t fully escaped his father’s grip.We’ve been neighbors for years, but that doesn’t mean he’ll go easy on me.
I don’t have any real achievements.I was involved in a scandal with another man and got dragged online.And if that counts, I don’t even have a steady job now.My savings are running low after setting aside the contract money I owe Gene.Who would want me as their daughter-in-law?
“What’d he say about me?”I get up to grab a glass of water from the dispenser.
Mom pauses, her hands frozen mid-wrap over the casserole.She hesitates.“Nothing.Lloyd knows you well.As for Mr.Evans, he criticizes everything except himself.Don’t stress over it.”She ties the casserole bag neatly.
“Wow.That’s comforting.”I roll my eyes.Great.He must hate me already.I sit back down and sip the warm water.Mom tidies her bag and slips on her coat.“You’re delivering it now?”
“Of course.It’s for their breakfast.”She heads for the door, opens it, pauses, then comes back in.“Uh, honey, there’s a hamper outside.I think it’s for you.”
My forehead creases.“What hamper?”I stand and walk to the porch.Mom crosses the street toward the Evans’ house, leaving me alone with a giant Christmas hamper.It’s way too big for one person.
“What the hell…” I whisper.
Inside a huge dark wooden basket, everything’s wrapped in transparent plastic dusted with glitter.Crackers, cheese, biscuits, pretzels, fruit, even a big bottle of wine—all arranged like a catalog photo from some luxury winehouse.Was this from Alan?So that’s why he showed up last night?
“Oh, God’s gracious.”I rake my hair in disbelief.
“What’s wrong?”Laird comes up behind me.He’s already dressed in his black sweater and jeans.He hugs me briefly from behind, but I push him back off inside the house.
“What if someone sees us?”I hiss.
“So what?”He frowns.
“Alan might be watching, your father might be pissed you skipped the party last night, and the neighbors might gossip.”The words tumble out in one breath.
“Oh, hell.You’re being paranoid.”He steps back, hiding behind the door.
“Help me move this inside.”I step out, bend down, and push the hamper from the porch.“Damn, it’s heavy.”
“What’s that?”He frowns but holds the door open so I can drag it through.He crouches as the basket slides halfway in, closes the door, then lifts it easily with both hands and sets it on the table.
“Easy.You almost pushed the casserole off the table.”I move the warm dish away from the hamper.
Laird removes the envelope with the red ribbon tied to the side of the basket.He pulls out a card and reads it out loud.“Merry Christmas, my sweet angel.May the chubby man in red pull a strand of his magical, thick beard to give a gift of your beloved presence in this world.With love, Alan, a.k.a.Clark.”
We fall silent after he finishes.Laird scoffs and hands the card to me.I read it slowly, and from the corner of my eye, I catch sight of my mom coming back from the Evans’ house.
“Who’s it from?”she asks.
“From Fenella’s superfan,” Laird says dryly.
“No.”I smack his back lightly, and he laughs.“Mom, was this here last night?”She should’ve seen it on her way home.
“It was just there.There was nothing on the porch before I baked the casserole.”She frowns, looking confused.
“So that means it was delivered minutes ago?”I blink.“Don’t tell me Alan went back and forth to this house.”I bite my lower lip, uneasy.
“Great.Now he’s officially a stalker,” Laird mutters, his lips press into a thin line.
* * *
