Page 53 of 10 Things I Hate About Mistletoe

“It was great since I got to sit in the passenger seat.” Her dad’s mustache tickled her cheek when he kissed it.

“The traffic shouldn’t have been bad today,” he stated, giving her a once-over. His blue-gray eyes missed nothing, and she wondered if her lipstick was smeared.

Leia’s insistent barking gave her an excuse to turn away and check in the window as she opened the back door to release her excited dog. The minute she did, Leia sprang from the car and started running in circles around her parents.

“Oh, there is my favorite grand-puppy! I made you some pumpkin dog biscuits,” her mom said, earning a happy yap from Leia. “Why don’t we go inside and get one?”

“Let me get my bags,” Delilah said.

“I’ve got them,” Anthony said firmly, popping the trunk. He nodded toward the house. “Go enjoy your time with your mom.”

“Thanks.” Delilah smiled, and he returned it weakly, but she turned away from him and her dad before either of them saw her frown. Was he really upset she was open to leaving Mistletoe? Or had she said something else to irritate him?

“Come on, Delilah! I can’t wait to show you the new quilt I made.”

Delilah followed her mom into the house, trailing behind her through the entryway to the living room. When she spotted one of the pictures of her on the wall, she rushed over to it. “Mom! I thought I told you to burn this?”

“What? It’s one of my only sixth grade pictures of you!”

“And there is a reason for that! I was hideous.”

“Oh, you were not. Everyone was awkward at eleven.”

Delilah doubted Anthony was and took the picture down, slipping it into the top drawer of the entertainment center. “There. Any more embarrassing pictures you’ve got on display?”

“Sweetheart, why are you worried if he sees your childhood pictures? He knows what you look like now and must like what he sees if he drove down here.”

“I think he does,” Delilah said, smiling.

“And how do you feel about him?”

“It’s early still,” Delilah said cagily.

“Well, I just want to say one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“If you marry that man, my grandbabies will be beautiful.”

“Mom!”

Chapter Fifteen

Anthony carried Delilah’s bags in through the second door on the left that Bernard had indicated was the spare room. He lined up her roller, tote, and backpack in the corner and left the room to join them in the kitchen, where Delilah groaned loudly.

“Seriously, I’ve been here five minutes.”

“I am just throwing it out there that teachers in Boise get paid better than anywhere in Idaho,” Natalia said.

“I don’t want to be a teacher. I want to write. I teach because I have to, but the goal is to make enough money writing to support myself eventually.”

“I understand, honey, but very few writers make—”

“Why can’t you just support me?”

Anthony stepped into the kitchen, and both women stopped talking. “Hey, I don’t want to interrupt, but I should probably head out to my family’s holiday.”

Natalia smiled. “Well, thank you for bringing her home.”