Page 118

“Can someone put together a plate for Mr. Lenny?” Mom asked, heading for the front door.

“I’ll do it,” I said, collecting a paper plate from the pantry. “Hey, Momma,” I said, pausing by her side.

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry for what I said about you still being mad about not winning a race in high school. That wasn’t nice of me.”

“It’s okay, honey. I sometimes wonder if I am holding on to that grudge too hard, if it’s colored my perception of everything.”

I gave her a hug.

“Look who I found,” Mom said, coming back into the kitchen. Behind her was Ryan. I wondered if I’d ever get used to seeing him in my house, with my family. But it was already feeling more normal.

“I’m taking a plate over to Mr. Lenny,” he said, lifting up his foil-covered plate. “Figured you were too, so we could walk together.”

“I am.” I smiled. “Wait for me. Everything isn’t quite done.”

“You want to just add some food to mine?” he asked, peeling back the foil wrap.

“Good idea,” I said, scooping the items that were finished onto his plate, rounding it out nicely.

“Aw,” Momma said. “You two make a good team.”

I blushed and waved to my family as Ryan and I left the house. It was snowing softly, little flurries.

“How was your Christmas morning?” Ryan asked as we walked across the street. “Did you get everything you wanted?”

“I already have everything I want,” I said.

He slipped his free hand into mine.

Mr. Lenny greeted us with a smile as we delivered the plate. “Thank you so much.”

“You should come over for dessert later,” I said.

“Maybe I will.”

He wished us a merry Christmas, showed us some pictures of his children on his phone, and then we were heading back across the street.

“I have something for you,” I told Ryan.

“I have something for you too.” His eyes were sparkling.

I led him inside the house and up to my room. The small box wrapped in Santa paper was sitting on my desk, but Ryan stared at my canvas in the corner.

“This is beautiful,” he said.

It was a painting of my family standing in front of our house, lights shining in the background, our faces lit up. I still had so much left to do on it, but it was getting there. “Thank you. I think it will be really special.”

“Are you mad you didn’t win the competition for best house last night?” he asked.

“No! The life-sized gingerbread house deserved it. But the Costa family is taking home that bronze Santa statue next year.”

“No, the Moreno family is for sure.”

I laughed. “I’m just glad our neighborhood gets to keep having millions of lights. We’re the gem of Colorado, you know.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Did some Instagram post say that?”