Page 60 of Rekindled Love

One of the boys in the back shifted. “You threatening us?” he asked.

I shook my head. “Nah. I’m informing you. There’s a difference.”

We stared at each other for a beat. Engines hummed. A bird called somewhere in the trees. Mr. Benton stood just behind my shoulder, and I could feel his disapproval like backup.

“Come on, man. This not worth it,” the driver muttered finally.

“Told ‘em they were wild for riding up to somebody house anyway. My mama would beat my ass,” the quiet one in the back added.

“Your mama smart,” I said.

Their truck backed up. One of them made a face but didn’t say anything else. They drove off, engines echoing up the road. I watched until they turned the corner.

“Thank you, sir,” Mr. Benton said.

“You don’t gotta ‘sir’ me. But you’re welcome,” I told him.

Back inside, I found Kyleigh in the kitchen. She stood at the stove stirring more cocoa, jaw tight, eyes far away. Aziza and Zoriah were at the table drawing ornaments on scrap paper, oblivious.

“Well?” she asked without turning.

“They left,” I said. “Won’t be back. Not like that.”

She slumped against the counter. “I hate feeling like… like I’m some villain,” she admitted quietly.

“You not a villain. You just somebody they don’t understand. That’s not your problem.”

“It feels like my problem,” she mumbled.

I stepped closer, not touching her, but close enough that she could if she wanted. “You got lights in your foyer now. Your baby got a tree. You walked through a Christmas village and lived. You came ornament shopping. You doing more than they know.”

She let out a slow breath.

“You feel like finishing this?” I asked.

She glanced toward the foyer, where the tree’s glow bounced off the walls. Aziza laughed at something Zoriah said, bright and free.

“I… think so,” she said.

“That’s enough for me.”

She looked up at me. “What you do?”

I shrugged. “I kept it PG-13.”

“I don’t know what that is but thank you.”

“Anytime,” I said. “Now pour me some of that cocoa before the kids drink all of it. Just greedy.”

She scoffed. “You sound like my granddaddy.”

“He had good sense.”

A few minutes later we were all back in the foyer, mugs in hand, lights low except for the tree. The girls lay on their stomachs under the branches, already arguing about who got which side for their presents.

Kyleigh stood next to me, shoulder almost touching mine. “You realize this counts as one of your Christmas things.”

I glanced down at her. “I know. And I’m still getting one more.”