Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 34527 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 173(@200wpm)___ 138(@250wpm)___ 115(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34527 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 173(@200wpm)___ 138(@250wpm)___ 115(@300wpm)
And stare.
The back seat is filled with wrapped packages. Some are boxes, some are soft bags, but all of them are tied with bright plas-ribbons and covered in pretty fabric. I count at least six presents of varying shapes and sizes before he rushes back to the air-sled and adds my box to the pile in the back. Sinath thuds into the driver’s seat and then shakes himself like a dog, flinging wet snow everywhere.
“Hey!” I raise a hand to shield myself, laughing. “What the hell?”
“Sorry. Habit.” Except he doesn’t look sorry at all, he looks mischievous and like he’s having too much fun. “Glad you brought the blanket now, eh?”
“Yes,” I retort. “It’ll be perfect for when I have to hide your body later.”
Sinath throws his head back and laughs, delighted at my humor.
My annoyance fades, along with how flustered I felt about him carrying me. I tilt my head at the full back seat. “You’re outdoing me with the gifts. What did you get Liesje?”
That smile of his becomes even more wicked. “Not all of them are for her. A few are for you, too. And there’s even one for Jerry.”
I’m surprised—and touched. “You seriously got Jerry a present?”
He nods. “Presents for everyone, yes? Isn’t that how this holiday works? You give presents to share in the merriness?”
“That’s true.” I feel like a grinch for doubting him. “You didn’t have to get us anything.”
“Ah, but I like seeing you smile.” He winks at me and takes the sled up. “I asked the others with human wives what would be appropriate for a gift and raided the general store. They’re not exciting gifts, but I am told it is the thought that counts, yes? And I did a great deal of thinking.”
“You’re a good man.”
Sinath pauses and looks over at me. “Good enough to kiss again?”
I blush. “Maybe.”
“I will take a maybe.”
Chapter
Nine
DEVIN
Liesje is surprised to see us on her doorstep. “You should have sent a message,” she calls out to us, holding the door open as snow pours from the dark gray sky. “This weather is terrible!”
“And miss out on our merry holiday? Never!” Sinath carries me to her door, blanket, Jerry and all. “Help her warm up while I get the rest of the things from the air-sled.”
“The rest?” Liesje asks, giving me a curious look as she helps me peel the blanket off.
“Our custodian friend is a shopper,” I say. “He’s got a bunch of gifts in the sled.”
“How fun.” She takes my blanket and shakes it out. “Let me put this in the clothes dryer and get you some tea. I made some cookies, too. Do you like speculaas?”
“I have no idea.”
“Well, then it might be good that these are not quite them.” She bustles towards the kitchen. “They don’t taste quite the same as the ones from my homeland, but the kerststol is close. It was my son’s favorite for kerstdag.”
She makes me taste everything, and of course it’s all delicious. The cookies are full of all kinds of spices and remind me a bit of gingerbread, and the cake-like stollen bread she calls kerststol is filled with nuts and bits of dried fruit and honey. The foods here are never quite the same as the ones back home, but these are darn close, and I immediately want seconds. “I made cookies too, but mine are boring compared to these.”
Liesje chuckles. “We will eat nothing but sweets and wash them down with tea and enjoy ourselves thoroughly.”
Sinath crashes inside a moment later, his arms full of snow-covered presents. He shakes himself like a dog again, flinging snow off, and then looks at us. “These go under the tree and below the tree’s clothing, right?”
“The tree’s not wearing clothing, for the millionth time,” I exclaim. “Good lord.”
“So it’s a naked tree. Naughty.” He grins at me and heads for the tree itself. “Do these need to be set in any particular order? Is there another tradition?”
I roll my eyes and give Jerry the last bite of my kerststol, then move to Sinath’s side, helping him arrange the packages underneath the tree. Mine are now mixed with his and there are so many presents that between those and the mass of decorations, the small, vivid green tree looks overwhelmed.
“Come eat, come eat,” Liesje says, tutting at Sinath. “I baked all these things for you. Presents can come later.” She turns toward the counter, cutting him a large slice and then pouring some tea. “Do you need to go and help others with their farms in this weather?”
Sinath follows behind Liesje, cramming a mouthful of the cake-bread into his mouth. His eyes light up and he grins at her, his cheeks full like Jerry’s. “This is so good.”
She beams at the compliment. “Just like my son.”
Maybe this is what she needed, I realize. She tolerates my fussing enough, but I’ve never been able to get through to her. Within a week, though, Sinath has her cleaning up her house and baking, and he doesn’t coddle her. He just shows up and reminds her that he cares. That he understands. And as she smiles up at him, I suspect she sees a little bit of her lost son there, too.