“That’s a great idea.” I gave Ezra’s hand a squeeze. “The more people we get involved, the more money we can raise and the more gifts we can buy.”
“Gifts?” Danny hadn’t been as involved as the rest of us because of time constraints with his job.
“Yeah, Kevin suggested we team up with other community organizations to help get presents to families in need,” Anson explained. “He took the lead on it, so we’re going to have a tree there, and people can take a tag for someone they want to buy for. We’re hoping to use part of the freewill donations to make sure every wish is granted.”
My heart swelled at the thought of all of us going shopping on Christmas Eve this year so we could wrap and deliver gifts that evening. Anson had joked that he was going to spray my beard white and make me dress up as Santa. I’d threatened him with bodily harm when he first suggested it, but now I found myself glancing at Ezra, wondering if he’d be my little elf helper.
Since it was already after six, Mom let out a sharp whistle to get us back on task. “Thank you, Ezra, for doing something so thoughtful for the boys. James and Henry, when Billy and your uncles were kids, their grandparents used to work together cutting and baking the pieces for gingerbread houses. Once the boys decorated them, they were displayed like priceless art until Christmas Day, when the boys begged us to let them eat their creations. Learn a lesson from your elders: don’t try and eat something that’s been sitting out for a few weeks unless you want a trip to the dentist on Christmas Day.”
“That was one time,” Billy grumbled. “But she’s right. You can decorate to eat or decorate to display, but not both.”
Mom continued bringing out candies, each bag separated into a few bowls to distribute along the table. Ezra and I took our places at the only open seats. “Are they all the same?” I asked as I grabbed a bag of white icing to start constructing my building. I already knew what I wanted to do. The trick would be figuring out if it was possible with the supplies we had on hand.
“No, every building is a little different,” Ezra explained. “I love the way the Christmas village in the window of the vintage store looks, and I wanted to recreate that with gingerbread. It’s something I always wanted, but my parents never allowed in our house growing up. They were pretty strict about only allowing a simple nativity. We didn’t even have a tree.”
“That’s… Wow, Ezra, I’m sorry.” As we worked on decorating our houses, I started compiling a mental list of everything I could give Ezra so he had a Christmas he’d never forget.
16
EZRA
Something had changedover the course of our day at Carson’s parents’ house. He’d shifted from begrudgingly helping out to being the captain of the cookie team. Or maybe the head cheerleader, but I wasn’t sure how he’d look in a skirt. The point being, once we took our seats at the table, his attention was divided between giving pointers on how to assemble the houses and rooting for the boys to beat their dads.
It was adorable.
Eleanor and Randall didn’t join in the action. Instead, they wandered around the room, pretending to be the judges. It didn’t take long before the brothers realized what was going on, and they played along.
“Anson, you seem to be taking a unique approach with the building materials,” Randall observed, standing over Anson’s shoulder. “Can you tell us what you’ve selected for the roof of your creation?”
“Everyone expects the roof to be somewhat simple, Randall,” Anson explained as he worked to unwrap and break his candies. “Instead of the more traditional frosting-only approach or the use of plain chocolate accents, I’ve opted to use the white-chocolate Pocky, cut down to the perfect length to simulate a thatch roof.”
“And are you concerned at all about the structural integrity of your choice?” Randall continued.
He should have been. While it was a neat concept, it would be very difficult to adhere the sticks to the roof and make them look good. But I wasn’t going to ruin his fun by saying so. If it fell apart before the Christmas party, he would probably make up a funny story about some winter storm that blew through and took the roof with it.
At one point, Carson’s hand slipped under the table, and he gave my knee a squeeze. When I looked at him, he mouthed,Thank you.
He’d expressed his gratitude a few times now, but I felt as though I should be thanking him. He was the one taking all the chances here. I was the lucky one who got to spend my weekend doing something I loved with people who were the very definition of a loving, supportive family.
Eleanor announced there were only ten minutes left until the deadline, continuing the cooking show theme. Everyone hurried to put the final touches on their structures and carefully move them to the window seat Randall had cleared off. She then gave everyone the rest of the night off, suggesting they come back one evening during the week to put up the lights.
Carson tried being sneaky about joining me at the back of the room, but his movement didn’t slip anyone’s attention. “What do you say we get out of here and head back to your place?”
“I’d like that.” I followed Carson around the room, thanking everyone for a great day.
When we got to Carson’s mom, I was shocked to be pulled into a tight hug. “Thank you for making my boy smile like that. It was a wonderful day without him grumping around.”
“I didn’t do anything special,” I argued.
“Oh, but you did.” She kissed my cheek. My family never would have shown any sort of affection that way. For us, it was something that was known but never shown. “He’s not an easy man, but he has a good heart. Be patient with him, Ezra.”
Funny, that was exactly what I’d requested from Carson earlier. She wasn’t telling me anything I didn’t already know. Both of us were like skittish animals. The slightest sudden movement had the potential to scare us off.
“I will, Eleanor,” I promised.
Carson rested his hand on the small of my back, stepping close enough I felt the heat of his body against my side. “Mom, don’t scare him off.”
He gave his mom a hug and a kiss on the cheek, promising he’d be over the following day to start hanging lights. I nearly opened my mouth to offer to help but then remembered my presence was demanded for church the next morning, with lunch afterward. By the time I got done dealing with my family, there was no way I’d be fit for civil company.
