Page 27 of All in for Christmas

Dean drops by to see me on his lunch break. “Hey, tiger. How’s it going?”

I sigh and look up from my peanut butter sandwich. “Like it’s good I packed my lunch.”

His peruses my desk. “Looks like you’re making progress, at least.” He thumps the doorframe with one hand. “The piles look shorter this week.”

“Really?” I ask hopefully.

He makes an inch-wide motion with his thumb and index finger. “A little?”

I blow out a breath. “I had no clue how tough this job would be,” I muse to myself.

Dean’s forehead wrinkles. “What’s that?”

But I don’t want him to feel bad about this. He’s making the best of our circumstances. So should I. “Nothing. I was just saying I’m happy to see you.” I playfully bat my eyelashes at him. “Handsome husband that you are.”

He laughs. “Yeah, well. I’m happy to see you , beautiful wife .” He walks over with something concealed behind his back. “I brought you a surprise.”

“What? Oh!” I’m so touched he’d think of me. It’s the middle of his workday, too.

He lays a candy bar on my desk. I’m guessing he bought it from the vending machine. It’s my favorite kind. “How sweet!”

He winks. “I figured you’d need the energy,” he whispers softly. “Working for Missy.”

“Oh, Paige!” She appears in her doorway. Sticky notes are in both hands and some snake up her arm. “I have a couple of changes for tomorrow.”

I hold my breath then say, “Of course.”

“I’ll see you later this afternoon.” Dean waves from the doorway out of Missy’s view and mouths, “Hang in there.”

Missy watches Dean leave, then she sees the candy bar on my desk.

“Did he bring that by?” When I nod, she sighs.

“What a sweet husband.” She strolls over and shuts the door to the hall.

“Now, I need to ask for your advice.” Wait.

She scoots a chair beside my desk and says in hushed tones, “Remember what I told you on Friday?”

“Friday?”

“Oh please don’t make me repeat it.” She blushes and takes a seat. “It’s too embarrassing.”

“No. I—wouldn’t dare.”

“Thank you.” She clasps her hands in her lap and asks, “So have you thought about it?”

“Um.”

She leans toward me and continues, “About what I should tell Phil?”

Hmm. Intriguing. “And Phil is—”

“The ninth grade English teacher at Hillsdale?”

What? That’s my old job.

“But of course you know that,” she continues quietly. Missy goes all breathy. “I told you about what we’ve done and made you pinky swear.”

Pinky swear?

What are we, four?

She holds up her hand and leans forward. “Paige,” she says desperately. “Please.”

“Er. Pinky swear, sure.” I hold up my hand and she hooks her pinky around mine. Ouch. Awkward.

“You’re not to tell a soul about the hotel.”

This is sounding juicy. Missy Peabody? Who knew?

“No, I—wouldn’t dare.”

Her face turns red. “Or about Phil’s— proclivities .”

Now she’s piqued my interest, darn it. “Proclivities?”

“Paige!” She titters and waves her hand.

“I’m not going into details— again . You bad girl!

But no.” She straightens her skirt. “That’s not the point.

The point is, he wants me to run away with him.

Can you believe it? Although, honestly?” she says wistfully.

“When we’re together, he makes me want to surrender everything . ”

“Oh! So he’s—?”

“No. That’s meeee .” Her eyes gleam darkly. “Madam X. That’s why he gave me my coffee mug. ‘Boss Lady.’ I require him to surrender first.”

“Wow.” I’ll never look at that mug the same way again.

“Paige,” she begs me. “I know we’re not friends, but I feel like we’ve formed a bond.”

I can’t help wondering if she chose the word bond on purpose.

“I’ve told you so many personal things and you’ve listened.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Plus, you’re so experienced. Two kids and everything. You also have pink hair!” she whispers hoarsely. “The color’s very cool, truthfully. I’d try it myself if I weren’t so chicken. But!” She squares her shoulders. “Phil is emboldening me.”

I really don’t want the details. No. I thought I was curious, but not that much.

“The next thing you know, I’ll be getting a tattoo on my back like you’ve got.”

What? I told Missy about that?

How chummy are we?

I blink at her, having lost track. “So, what was your question?”

She clears her throat and says, “Should I run away with Phil, or not?”

“And, uh. Leave both schools in the lurch?”

“You’re right,” she agrees thoughtfully. “Now’s not the best time. We should wait until after the holidays.”

I can’t wait for two thirty to get here.

I think this day will never end. The mound of paperwork is endless, and comparing paper files to electronic records is painstakingly grueling.

My unexpected conversation with Missy also wore me thin.

I had no idea she leaned on me this much for relationship advice.

It’s daunting. I hope I didn’t steer her in the wrong direction.

The school dismissal bell rings loudly, and students filter into the hall in boisterous groups, holding or wearing their backpacks and preparing to exit the school.

Missy’s office door opens, and a pair of parents walk out.

It’s the couple who wanted to tour the school and we managed to fit them in near the end of the day.

“Thanks for visiting Walton!” she says as the couple leaves. “I hope to see you and Jocelyn here next semester!” I know that’s an empty promise, since she’s angling to elope with Phil then.

They leave and I start packing up for the day.

I thought my homelife was demanding, until I got a load of my life at this office.

After working for Missy, taking care of sweet Eleanor and Henry will feel like a break.

I stare at the candy bar Dean brought me but that I didn’t have a second to eat.

Being around him will feel like heaven. It’s so easy being by his side.

In an awesome way, he’s my best friend. I slide the candy bar in my purse and lift my work bag off the floor, as Missy plunks a long, giftwrapped package down on my desk.

There isn’t a ton of room, but I’ve freed up some space beside a family photo of me with Dean and the kids.

“Oh my!” I tell her. “That’s so sweet.”

I’m swamped with guilt that I don’t have anything for her.

“Don’t feel like you have to return the favor,” she says as if reading my mind.

“You’re not supposed to give to your ‘Boss Lady,’” she jokes, and I laugh.

Missy is so quirky, but she’s also all right.

I find myself warming to her, and starting to regret that she’s leaving, assuming she really does run away with Phil.

“Well then, thanks, Missy.” I hold up the gift. “Thanks so much.”

“Go ahead and open it. It’s something you should use right away.” She nods at the package. “Some people like to give gifts. I like to give experiences.”

“Oh yeah?” I try not to think about the experiences she’s had with Phil and hope this present has nothing to do with their private life.

My nose twitches nervously and I rub it.

No. Missy’s not going to give me something untoward or steamy to use with my husband. She’s my principal, for heaven’s sake.

I unwrap the paper and open the flat narrow box. It holds four printed out tickets inside. They’re for ice skating. My eyes heat at the thoughtful gesture.

“The downtown rink is only open through early January,” she explains. “So I thought you and your family might enjoy using these beforehand. I know your boy, Henry, is a bit young—”

I leap to my feet and hug her around the neck. Even if it’s not professional. Even if I’m not supposed to. We’re probably not supposed share pinky swear secrets either, but we have. “Missy, thank you. Eleanor will be thrilled! She’s been begging—”

I catch my breath and remember this morning. The ice skates on the advent calendar. So wait. Yes. Maybe the calendar is predicting the future. I can’t wait to tell Dean. Maybe we can go tonight?

We have a lot of trouble getting Henry to stand up on his ice skates.

Although there are kids who look as young as he is on the ice, those types were obviously born to it.

Dean crouches low and holds Henry’s hands, trying to stabilize him.

Henry’s skates start to splay out sideways, and Dean grabs him under his arms in his puffy coat.

Turns to me and chuckles. “I think you were right.”

Henry grins from ear to ear, staring at his dad. “Merry Kissmas!”

Dean and I laugh. I’m holding hands with Eleanor.

She seems to be doing a lot better than Henry.

Maybe he’ll have to wait until he’s her age.

I clomp forward in my skates and pull her along.

She latches onto my coat sleeve with her mittens and swings away from me in a wide arc.

“Wheee!” she says, skating back toward me as we glide forward.

Dean nods ahead of us and scoops Henry into his arms, taking care with his skate blades. “You two take a turn around the rink. Henry and I will go over there and buy some supper.” He glances at the food truck parked by the curb in front of the courthouse. “Hot dogs or tacos?”

“Chili dog for me!” I answer and Eleanor bounces up and down.

“Chili dog, yay!”

“Okay,” Dean replies. “We’ll get four of those,” he says speaking for himself and Henry. They clomp off the ice, and I hang on to Eleanor as we make a careful circle around the rink. She’s doing quite well, and—though I haven’t skated in a while—it’s coming back to me.

“This is fun, Mommy!”

Chilly air nips my nose and ears. “Yeah, it is!”

When we come back around toward the entrance, I spy a familiar couple skating onto the ice.

Mom and Roger. He leads first and nods—naturally—holding out his glove.

She takes his hand, and he pulls her toward him.

She’s laughing, her face flushed. “Oh Roger,” I hear her say.

My heart pitter-patters. She does look happy, and in love.

“Mom, hi!”