“When did you buy all this?” I whispered.
“Yesterday, when I left. I stashed everything in my car and brought it up last night.”
“But you left before they wrote the letters.”
“Well,” he said with a sly grin. “If I’d waited, I might have had to find you a dog, too.”
“How did you know what the girls wanted?”
“A Santa Claus never reveals his secrets.”
“Well... kids that age usually like bikes. But the ballet outfit was a brilliant guess.”
“Rory's dream is to dance ballet. Anna told me.”
“Annatold you?”
“Yes. She said Rory drew herself in a ballerina outfit at daycare. And that their grandmother said it was nonsense because she ‘couldn’t dance’ since she’s deaf.”
“That’s complete nonsense. Deaf people can dance by feeling the rhythm through the vibrations of the music.”
He smiled, a soft, knowing look in his eyes. “Yeah, I know. I did some research. I found an inclusive ballet school here in New York. After the holidays, I’m taking Aurora. And Anna, too, if she wants to join. If not, we’ll find another activity she’ll love.”
It was my turn to smile, my heart feeling full to bursting.
“Who are you, and what have you done with the silly Logan Turner I knew?”
“I just want them to be happy,” he said, his voice softening. “And to know they can be anything they want to be. I won’t let anyone ever tell Rory she can’t do something ever again.”
The last sentence was edged with a quiet fury, and I shared his outrage. How could a grandmother be so cruel to her own granddaughters?
“The girls told me a few other things about their grandmother,” I ventured.
“And I remember Ellie mentioning her mother. The two never got along. From what the girls say, it sounds like they all lived together. I can’t imagine what would have made Ellie go back.”
“Perhaps necessity. Being pregnant with twins is a fair reason. From her letter, it sounded like her music career wasn’t providing much.”
“Believe me, only the end of the world would have made Ellie move back in with her mother. If the problem was money, she would have come to me long before she ever considered going there.”
“Has the detective found any new leads?”
“Nothing.” He shook his head, as if physically clearing the thought. “But let’s not talk about that today. It’s Christmas. Let’s go make those cookies.”
“Cookies?” Anna repeated, beginning to bounce. “Are we really going to make cookies?”
Seeing her sister’s excitement, Aurora turned toward us. Logan signed and spoke with equal enthusiasm: “We’re going to make cookies! Leave the bikes for later. Let’s all go to the kitchen!”
With a burst of glee, the two girls ran ahead.
Before we could follow, I teased him, “Who would have thought Dr. Logan Turner would be so excited about baking and decorating Christmas cookies…”
“See these hands?” He held them up, wiggling his long, skilled fingers. “I’m not the best neurosurgeon in the country for nothing. With the surgical precisionof these beauties, you shouldn’t doubt my cookie-decorating skills.”
“I shall see...”
We started walking towards the kitchen when he lowered his face, speaking more quietly, close to my ear, “And that's not the only thing my hands are great at. I can show you a little tonight, when wedon'thave sex again.”
I stopped walking, feeling a wave of heat course through me. He looked at me with that mischievous half-smile on his lips and simply walked into the kitchen, leaving me alone with the most unholy thoughts possible.
