Christmas at Holiday House - RaeAnne Thayne Page 0,93
wandered far from his side.
She seemed very nice, with a cheerful smile and kind eyes. Lucy wanted to hate her, but she couldn’t. If the woman could make José happy, how could she dislike her?
Lucy might know that rationally, but she was a horrible person, apparently. She wanted to throw a bowl of frosting in her face.
She forced herself to turn her attention back to their house, working with Rodrigo to add final touches while the swing combo, made up of many of Winnie’s old friends, played “Jingle Bells” and “Rudolph.”
Finally it was time for the prizes. She wasn’t eligible to win, which was fine with her. She traveled enough. She didn’t need another excuse.
Claiming the privilege of the birthday boy, Rodrigo always gave out the prizes to the winners, and he had a particularly good time handing them out tonight.
She was thrilled when two middle-aged sisters won the grand prize with a gorgeous gingerbread ski lodge complete with a little ski lift made out of fruit leather.
“Looks like we have a tie in the under-ten category. Christopher Powell and Dakota Raymond. Can you come up here?”
Christopher and Dakota raced up hand in hand to receive a stocking each filled with what looked like candy and little Christmas toys. The boys danced around in excitement, much to the enjoyment of the crowd.
“And that concludes another year of our special Birthday Party Gingerbread Competition. Feel free to walk around and admire everyone else’s creations. See you all next year.”
“I’ll be thirty years old next time,” Rodrigo said, shaking his head in disbelief. “I’m old.”
She had to laugh. “I’ll be thirty in February so I’m even older.”
“Old lady,” Rodrigo teased.
She felt old, suddenly. Thirty was a pivotal year. She had spent her twenties doing what she wanted, going where she wanted, exploring the world, having fun.
Somehow it didn’t seem enough anymore. Maybe it was time she shifted focus.
“Your gingerbread house is amazing, as always,” Sofia, Rodrigo’s mother, said, admiring their display. “How do you do it, year after year?”
“It’s not me. As always, Rodrigo is the creative genius behind this operation.”
His mother smiled broadly, hugging him. “Thank you for being his partner again.”
“Are you kidding? It’s the highlight of my year. I wouldn’t miss it.”
Sofia smiled and patted her hand. “You’re a good girl, Lucy. Once I had hoped maybe you and my José would... Well.” She shrugged. “A mother hopes. It’s not to be. But you should know I would have been happy to have you for my daughter.”
For a moment, Lucy didn’t know what to say, emotion clogging her throat. When had she ever heard her own mother say anything remotely close to that?
“That’s very sweet of you, Sofia,” she finally managed.
Sofia looked embarrassed. “Do not tell José I said anything like that to you. My son, he already thinks I interfere too much in his life.”
“I won’t,” she promised.
“Now, I can take Rodrigo home with me. Mijo, where is your coat?”
“I put it under the table so I wouldn’t lose it.” He reached under the table and pulled it out with a triumphant noise.
“Are you sure? He’s my date. I don’t mind taking him home.”
“No, no. We’re going to walk around and admire all the gingerbread houses, and then his sisters want to have cake and ice cream at home.”
“I like cake,” Rod informed her.
“Good thing,” she said, helping him with his zipper. “I’ll see you later, dude. Happy birthday. Thanks for the fun day.”
“Bye, Lucy. I love you.”
“I love you right back.”
This of course necessitated another hug. Anyone in Rodrigo Navarro’s life had to put up with plenty of hugs, which she had never found a hardship.
She cleaned up the remains of their gingerbread frenzy, then did her part to help clean up other tables with a few other lingerers.
“You don’t have to do this. We have a crew standing by to clean up.”
Somehow her path had led her to José. Had that been accidental, or had her subversive subconscious led her toward him?
She shrugged. “I don’t mind. I’m not washing fondant out of the carpets or anything, only throwing away some trash. It’s always such a fun day, isn’t it? And for a good cause.”
“Rodrigo loves it. We hear about it all year long. Thanks for being his partner.”
“It’s absolutely my pleasure.”
“I know. Which makes it mean even more.”
She felt that ache in her throat again. What was happening to her? She had cried more since coming back to Silver Bells than she remembered doing in years.