She shrugs and smiles. “Mrs. Delgado.” The name is the answer to my questions, and I know we both understand who’s responsible for tonight’s reunion.
I need to send Mrs. Delgado some flowers or give her volunteer hours for life.
“Wow.” Paige looks at me in awe. “This is crazy. It’s been a while.” She comes in for a brief side hug, and my heart feels warm and gooey like it’s been dipped in chocolate fondue. But when she pulls back, she’s biting her lower lip, a nervous habit of hers. At least, it used to be.
“You look amazing,” I say, taking in this new version of my old best friend. Paige has always been pretty, but the Paige in front of me now carries herself with a new maturity that hasmy heart beating double time. But it’s still Paige Devons—the sparkling eyes, the bright smile, the chocolate-brown hair, and that unforgettable dimple.
Paige looks down and tugs at the hem of her skirt, looking uncomfortable. Her cheeks redden.
A moment later, it hits me that she might have thought my compliment was alluding to her shorter-than-average skirt. “Oh no, I didn't mean you look amazing in your outfit. I mean, youdolook amazing in it, but not just because of your legs. I mean, your legs look really good, but…”Shut up, Jordan. Shut up.
Paige chuckles. “I didn’t think you were checking me out, Jordan. But I’m glad to know my legs look good.”
I blow out a short breath before trying to recover from my verbal spewing. “You just… You look very elf-like.”Oh, kill me now.
Paige grins and pulls at the fur lining of her elf clothes. “I’m pretty sure Mrs. Delgado got this outfit from one of those trashy Halloween shops, hoping to save a penny.” She smirks then gestures at my white beard. “You’ve aged.”
I chuckle, grateful she’s put an end to my babbling, and look down at my red-and-white apparel. Out of all the times I imagined seeing Paige again, not once did I picture myself in a pregnancy belly and a beard that smells like the ghosts of Santa's past. It seems we’re both out of our element tonight.
All too soon, two children with their parents come into the room, and I snap my beard in place. “I guess that’s our cue.”
We both linger for a moment, though, and I can only hope she’s as eager as I am to keep this conversation going after we’re done here. She smiles up at me, and my insides feel like they can power every Christmas light in this room. I may not look much like Santa, but at this moment, I’m pretty sure I could out-jolly the best of them.
“Where do you want the kids to line up?” Paige asks, reaching for some cellophane treat baggies to give the incoming kids.
“If they line up on the left, that would probably make the line flow best.”
I sit on Santa’s velvet chair, and Paige starts lining the kids up on the right. For a moment, she seems confused. She looks at me then at the awkwardly placed line.
I laugh. “Your other left, Paige!”
“Oh, right!” She jingles her left wrist, flashing her golden L bracelet.
I’ve missed her. Suddenly, the hole in my chest that is reserved solely for Paige begins filling in with every nuanced piece of her that has come back to my life.
Two hours later, Paige and I walk side by side around the Pine Lakes City Center. I’ve traded my Santa clothes and beard for joggers and a puffer coat, and Paige is still wearing her elf outfit buried beneath a shoulder-to-ankle coat. She’s about as close to a walking sleeping bag as they come.
I can’t help but watch Paige’s amazed expression as she takes in the decorations around us. Every tree gleams with twinkling lights, and every railing is wound with garland and red ribbon. We stop to listen to a tightly harmonized version of “God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen,” sung by a group of old-timey carolers bundled in festive apparel. Paige bounces on the balls of her feet and sings along under her breath.
Since Mom’s diagnosis, holidays haven’t felt particularly exciting—they’ve been mostly low-key and quiet. But watchingPaige glow with Christmas cheer, I suddenly feel like a child again, experiencing the magic of the season just by watching her.
“It’s like a Hallmark movie on steroids,” Paige says as we continue our walk around the decked-out city center. “Any moment, I expect a small-town tree farmer to run into a big-city lawyer and fall desperately in love.”
I laugh. “Will their whirlwind romance save the family farm from bankruptcy before Christmas Day?”
“Naturally.” Paige smiles, just before she starts sliding on the patch of ice beneath her feet. She turns sharply, legs wobbling, and her hands jut out, grasping the front of my jacket.
Her legs stop moving, and her eyes widen as she looks up at me. “That was close.”
We both look around and find that we’ve walked straight into the center of a large patch of ice.
I put an arm around her back to stabilize her as we step forward. “Don’t worry, I won’t let you fa… ah…”
My mouth shuts as my feet sweep from right under me. Instinctively, I grasp for anything to keep me upright and end up bringing Paige down with me. She slams hard against my chest as we both hit the ice and groan at the impact.
Paige pushes up on her arms until her face is right above mine. “I’m sorry—what were you saying?” Her eyes shine with pure amusement.
I jab her playfully in the ribs. “Get off, you brat.”
