Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 71275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
“You got it.” She grinned.
After I paid for the toy, I wished her a Merry Christmas and hit the road.
Back at my family’s house, I greeted everyone, but soon after, disappeared into a quiet study to spend a few minutes Googling her name. Not one Holly Johanssen in her age range popped up in the entire Chicago area. I tried spelling Johanssen multiple ways, too. There was one listing for that name, but she was sixty-three years old. Nothing came up on social media, either.
That night, while I played along with my nieces and nephews, I was completely preoccupied, although I tried to stay as engaged as possible. The irony wasn’t lost on me when my niece unwrapped a Christmas book, titled Holly Jolly Tales.
I felt like I’d somehow lost Cinderella, except I had no glass slipper. Nothing to go on to find her besides a name that seemed to be a dead end.
But after coming up empty in regards to Holly, I decided to go along with my original plan to drop the toy robot off at that little boy’s house. At least someone will get the toy on Christmas. Maybe seeing his happy face would cheer me up.
I was really striking out today.
Pulling my hood up as I stood on the front porch, I looked around at the empty driveway and the street behind me. There were no cars anywhere, and not one light on inside the house. Not even the Christmas lights dangling from the roofline were lit. Snow had started to fall on my drive over, and a thin layer of white already coated the street and grass. Every fifteen seconds or so, a random gust of wind blew, making the tiny house resemble the inside of a snow globe.
I looked around for somewhere to leave the robot, but the porch only had a small awning, and snow already covered the ground below it. If this family didn’t get home soon, the box and the toy inside would probably be ruined. It was seven o’clock now; maybe I could stop back in an hour if the snow wasn’t too bad and see if anyone came home. It would really suck if this stupid robot went to waste.
Before today, I hadn’t even known this thing was the popular toy for the season. It made me think about how my family had probably never gone through what Holly had—running around and trying to get the hot item so her son wouldn’t be disappointed. My family could just pluck one from inventory before the toys even hit the shelves. Maybe there had been a little truth to what Holly had said earlier. What was it she’d called me today? Entitled. Yeah, that was it. Though, that thought only made me want to make sure this thing got into the hands of the little boy who I’d bought it for even more.
So rather than go home, I decided to stop by and visit my grandfather—the man who had made my cushy life so possible. It was after visiting hours, but I figured since it was Christmas Eve, the nursing home would probably be a little more lax than usual.
“Hey, Rena.” One of the regular aides was at the front desk when I walked in.
“Hiya there, Bryce.” She smiled warmly, and I held up a cardboard tray filled with hot chocolates and a box of munchkins from Dunkin’ Donuts.
“I brought some hot chocolate and a snack.”
She perked one brow. “Trying to bribe me so that you can sneak in after hours, are you?”
I grinned. “That depends. Will it work?”
She pointed her eyes down to the drink carrier. “Any of those have whipped cream?”
“They do.”
She held her hands out. “He’s in his room watching TV. Merry Christmas, Bryce.”
“Thanks, Rena.”
I found Pops all by himself, laughing out loud. The deep, baritone sound warmed my insides. As usual, he had on a full suit, vest and all, even though he was sitting in bed. “Hey, Pops.”
He glanced over at me. “Are you the shoeshine boy?”
It made me sad that he didn’t remember me anymore, but Pops wasn’t hard to make happy, so I played along. “Sure am.”
He looked down at his feet, and his forehead wrinkled. “Where the hell are my shoes?”
“I’ll grab them for you. What color are you thinking with that suit? The brown or the black?”
He stared at me like I had two heads. “What moron would wear black with this?”
I smiled. “Brown it is.”
Pops had a ton of clothes packed into the small closet in his room. The bottom of which was lined with old school wingtips. I took out a brown pair and pulled a chair up to the bed before helping him turn to face me.
We talked as I slipped on his shoes and took out the shoeshine kit that was always in his bedside table.