“It’s not to solve a mystery,” Walter said, chuckling.
“Darn, I thought we were going to find a dead body at any moment,” Roan said.
Reese giggled.
Roan turned his head, catching her gaze for a moment, looking pleased that she’d laughed at his joke.
She quickly sobered, not wanting to give him the satisfaction.
“Yes, well, you’ll have to throw that kind of party at your own place,” Grace said, laughing. “In all seriousness, Walter and I have been talking about something for a while now, and recent events have convinced us it’s time to act.”
Walter set down his fork. “We want to start a program for at-risk youth here in Sugarville Grove. Something to help kids who are falling through the cracks.”
“What kind of program?” Mrs. Chen asked, leaning forward with obvious interest.
“Mentorship, primarily,” Grace said. “Practical support, activities, community connection. We’ve been researching similar programs in other towns, talking to social services. There are kids right here in our community who need help, and we think we can provide it.”
“This is something we should have done years ago,” Walter added. “Grace has been volunteering with foster families through the church. The stories we’ve heard are heartbreaking.”
“I see it every day at school,” Mrs. Chen said. “I have students I worry about constantly. Kids dealing with trauma, poverty, family dysfunction. I do what I can, but there’s only so much I can do within the confines of the school system.”
“Exactly,” Grace said. “We’re thinking something informal to start. A pilot program this winter. Maybe four or five kids who could benefit from mentorship and support.”
“What would it look like, practically?” Pastor David asked.
“We’re calling it The Bridge Program,” Walter said. “The idea is to bridge the gap between where these kids are and where they could be.” He went on to paint a picture of what they imagined—weekly dinners, mentorship pairs, activities, resource connections.
“The church can provide meeting space if needed,” Pastor David said. “And I can help with resource connections—food bank, clothing closet, counseling referrals.”
“I was hoping you’d say that,” Grace said warmly.
“I can identify students who need help.” Mrs. Chen leaned over her plate, her eyes alight. “I have several in mind already. I’m happy to be the liaison with the school, handling permissions and privacy issues.”
“Exactly what we need,” Walter said. “Which is why we hoped you’d like to join us.”
Kris stroked his beard thoughtfully. “I like this. I like it a lot. You’ll need community support, though. Fundraisers. Maybe partnering with some local businesses.”
“Which is where you come in,” Grace said with a smile. “Kris, you know everyone in this town. If you endorse this program, people will listen.”
“Plus you’re Santa,” Roan said. “Kids trust Santa.”
“Fair point,” Kris chuckled. “All right, I’m in. I can help with community outreach, maybe organize some fundraising.”
“Thank you,” Grace said. “Can I count on you to help me plan a fundraising gala?”
“Of course you can. I’m thinking Mia would be willing to host it at her new restaurant,” Kris said.
“Excellent idea,” Grace said.
“What about activities?” Mrs. Chen asked. “That’s where a lot of programs fall short. Kids need something to do, somewhere to belong.”
Grace turned to look at Reese, and suddenly she understood why she was here.
“Reese, we were hoping you might offer some dance classes. Movement as an outlet, a way to express emotion safely. Especially for kids who might not respond to traditional talk therapy.”
All eyes turned to her. She felt her cheeks warm.
“I—sure,” she said. “I’d be happy to. I have studio space available several afternoons a week.”
