Chapter 45

Christmas Eve at Addy's is the same as it always is, except I feel like I've been blown up like a balloon. Instead of helium, I'm full of joy. I float from dinner to the little family and friend Christmas pageant we always do. Troy is the cutest shepherd, and Addy's twins make perfect wise women, holding a doll between their hands as the missing third. I play my typical role of narrator, and it takes far longer than it should with Paisley cracking jokes the entire time, but none of the toddlers melt down, so I count it as a win. I eat too many desserts after that, and when we watch Home Alone, it's funnier than usual.

The shiny halo of love that surrounds Addy and her husband doesn't irritate me this year. The person they love most sits right here under their own roof, their two daughters are safe and happy, and they're content.

When we sing carols, I miss Luke. When we unwrap presents, I miss Luke. When we all say goodnight, I miss Luke even more.

By the time I reach my car with Paisley, Trudy, and Troy in tow, it's quiet enough for me to hear my phone bing, and I whip it out immediately.

An hour ago, Luke sent me the first message. MISS YOU.

Forty minutes ago, he sent another. SEND ME A PHOTO. I MISS YOUR GORGEOUS FACE.

Ten minutes later he sent a third and final text. PAUL THINKS I'M MAKING YOU UP. HELP A GUY OUT. LOVE YOU.

I hold my phone out and snap a photo.

“What are you doing?” Trudy asks.

I fill her and Paisley in on the details of my lunch date and my accidental blurting of ‘I love you.’

“Oh my good—” Paisley says.

“Look, it may still turn out to be nothing. Not many relationships can withstand the strain of long distance, and Luke's leaving, remember?”

“Ask him to stay,” Paisley says.

“I can't do that.” I shake my head. “He has to decide for himself. He's a big boy.”

“You're killing me,” Paisley moans.

I text Luke the photo with this message. I'M REAL, AND INQUIRING MINDS HERE WANT TO SEE YOU, TOO.

INQUIRING MINDS? Luke asks. WHO EXACTLY ARE YOU WITH? SHOULD I BE JEALOUS?

A smile spreads across my face.

“I've already seen him,” Trudy says.

“Well, I haven't seen him in days and days,” Paisley says.

I'M WITH PAISLEY, TRUDY, AND TROY. I insert a laughing face emoji. I DIDN'T WANT TO SAY I MISSED YOUR FACE. I WAS TRYING TO BE COY.

COY IS OVERRATED, Luke texts back, but he doesn't send a photo.

I pull up the photo Luke sent me of him with his kids and set it as my background.

“Santa's coming,” Troy says. “We go home!”

“Aunt Mary is busy swooning up here, sweetheart. Be patient.”

I put the car in gear and pull out of Addy's driveway.

Trudy rolls her eyes. “I can't believe you two said ‘I love you’ before you even took your first picture as a couple.” She shakes her head. “Clearly, neither of you are on Instagram.”

“Nope.” I tilt my head and frown. “Actually, maybe he is. I didn't ask.”

A few minutes later, my phone bings. Paisley and Trudy don't even complain when I pull over to check it, but Troy does.

“Go home,” he says. “Now.”

“We are headed home,” I say. “I just need to check something.”

I swipe my phone to see the photo of Luke, with Amy and Chase huddled up next to him. Their faces are all beaming, and it feels like it’s just for me. A few seconds after that, another photo appears of Luke with a taller, skinnier guy. Shiny chestnut hair without a hint of grey, and the same grayish blue eyes, but not as obviously handsome.

“I bet that's Paul,” I say.

“That’s too bad,” Trudy says.

I spin my head to glare at her in the backseat. “What’s too bad?”

She narrows her eyes and looks at the photo again. Then she looks at Paisley, whose face reflects my bafflement.

“Nothing, I guess,” Trudy says. “Except that his brother is vastly more attractive.”

Paisley and I exchange a glance. It's nice to know we're on the same page about Luke’s looks.

“Uh, well,” I say. “I think I'll bear up under the disappointment.”

The girls make me repeat our lunch conversation over and over until we reach my house. Thankfully Troy's sound asleep by the time I park in the garage. While Trudy unloads Troy quietly, I turn to Paisley.

“Are you sure you don't want me to take you home? It's a little more crowded than usual, with Trudy in my guest bedroom and Troy in my office.”

Paisley shakes her head. She has no family here in Atlanta, so for the past three years, she's slept over at my place. “I told you already, the sofa's fine.”

After Trudy gets Troy tucked in, we all help her put out the Santa gifts for Troy.

“It's exciting that he's old enough to understand this year,” I say. “Or at least, mostly understand.”

Trudy smiles. “Luke's kids are darling, by the way, in case I haven't already said so.”

“I wish I'd met them,” Paisley says.

“Well, stick around long enough tomorrow, and you will.”

“You couldn't pry me out of here with a crowbar,” Paisley says. “In fact, maybe I should make popcorn tonight so I’m ready for it.”

I swat her on the shoulder. “Very funny.”

“I'm not kidding. This is better than a Hallmark movie.”

I finally go to bed, but before I'm quite asleep, I hear a ping. Normally I'd ignore it, but my heart speeds up, because it might be Luke.

-SWEET DREAMS, ANGEL.

I rub my eyes so I can see well enough to text a reply.

-I'M NO ANGEL, BUT I DO PLAN TO HAVE GOOD DREAMS.

ALL THOSE KIDS ARE GOING TO WAKE UP TOMORROW WITH FEELING LIKE SOMEONE CARES THANKS TO YOU.

I choke up a little thinking about Christmas morning for the kids we’ve helped, so it’s a good thing this conversation is taking place via text.

-EXCEPT. . . I DROPPED THE BALL. UNITED WAY IS CUTTING THE PROGRAM.

Luke's reply comes fast.

-THAT WASN'T YOUR FAULT. BESIDES, I BELIEVE IT’LL WORK OUT FOR THE BEST.

For the first time in a long time, I dare to hope that he might actually be right.

The next morning, I wake up way, way, way too early to the squeals of an excited little boy. I haven't even sat up yet when he climbs up on my bed and starts to pat my face. “Wake up, wake up, wake up. Santa here!”

“He's not here,” I say. “Do you mean he left presents?”

“Yes, yes, yes!”

I blink, and blink and blink, and grab my robe as I stumble out of bed.

Christmas morning passes too fast, like it always does.

I've barely cleaned up the mess from breakfast and changed into appropriate clothing when I hear a knock at the door. I glance at my watch. Nine in the morning.

I yawn on my way to open the door, only a little bummed that a visitor means I can't take a nap yet. Even so, I hope it's Luke.

Please let it be Luke.

Luke's big grin is the first thing I notice. The second is that he's wearing a Santa Claus hat. The third is that Trudy’s nuts.

He's the hottest thing I've ever seen.

I feel like I've been waiting for years and years, and I've finally found someone who embodies the same magic for me that Santa always did. He fills my heart with the same verve, the same excitement, and the same love. I found out years ago that Santa didn't really exist, and it became my job to take his place for other children who needed hope. But today, when Luke walks inside, I realize something wonderful.

I've finally found my Santa.