Damian on that particular climb, told him how best to navigate it.
But he received no response. It was late. Damian was probably asleep—just like he should be.
With a sigh, Dallas sent a final glance toward the stairs, stood up and forced his feet to carry him back to his room, where he tried to stay in bed but got up only a few minutes later to tear off the sheets. He wouldn’t be able to get Emery out of his head if all he could smell was her perfume.
Friday, December 18
Aiyana had been planning to get to the school as early as possible, but when she went down to pack up the treats she’d made for the Christmas party, she found Dallas in the kitchen. “What are you doing up?” she asked in surprise.
He’d made coffee and was sitting at the table with a cup. “I thought you might need some help at the school today, since it’s the last day before Christmas break.”
The fatigue in his face made it clear that he hadn’t slept well. Had the same kind of nightmares he’d experienced as a child kept him up? Had news of his father brought them back? Or was it something else? Had Robert tried to contact him despite accepting money to leave town?
She watched her son closely as she said, “I could certainly use you. Both halves of New Horizons—the girls’ section and the boys’ section—are having a party together. I made a lot of Rice Krispies Treats I have to carry over. And Santa is coming at noon. If you could be on hand to make sure each student gets a gift and has a good time—that no one feels left out—that would be wonderful.”
“Santa is coming?” he echoed. “Since when did you institute Santa? Aren’t the kids who attend New Horizons a little old for that sort of thing?”
She was tempted to reach out and smooth down his hair. “They might pretend to be but, as you know, we have a lot of students who haven’t had what you’d call an ideal childhood. I’m trying to give them a little bit of what they missed before they become full-fledged adults.”
He took a sip of his coffee. “Where do you get your Santa? LA?”
“Oh no. He’s not a professional,” she said with a laugh. “For the past few years, it’s been Sam Butcher, a farmer friend of Cal’s who lives right here in Silver Springs. He’s a little overweight and has a long white beard, so when you put him in that red suit, he fits the part well. And he’s the most jovial man I’ve ever known. He does a great job.”
Dallas had lifted his cup again, but he put it right back down. “Don’t tell me the kids sit on his lap...”
“They do, but usually only with some of their friends for pictures. They might claim they’re too old for that sort of thing, or that it’s silly, but deep down they really want to do it, and I make it easy for them to save face,” she added with a wink.
“How do you do that?” he asked.
She started cutting the Rice Krispies Treats into squares. “Everyone who turns in a picture with Santa for the school bulletin board in the cafeteria is entered into a drawing for an afternoon shopping trip with me to get a new pair of sneakers. Our boys will do almost anything for that prize.”
“And Santa gives every kid a gift?”
“Every single one.”
“How much does that cost you?”
“Fortunately, Sam doesn’t charge me. I did originally buy the suit, but that was a while ago. These days I only have to pay for the gifts.” She’d gone way over budget on those this year, but Cal had contributed a significant sum. He’d wanted to buy her a big diamond for her wedding ring—until she’d told him how short she was on Christmas for the students of New Horizons. When she’d asked if she could get a gold band and spend the diamond money on them, he’d agreed. To her, making them happy was worth infinitely more than having a big rock on her finger. “Some years, I don’t have to spend much. Others can be expensive,” she said. “It all depends on the donations we receive. But it’s one of the more important things we do. I’d give up a lot before I’d cancel Santa.”
He came over to cover the treats with plastic wrap for her. “What kind of gifts does