Page 66 of A Newport Christmess

Carson stuck his tongue out at Chloe. “They are, too.”

“Are not.”

Julie lowered to their level. “I don’t see why this matters, so unless you two want me to take your chips—”

“I have M&Ms.” Chloe lifted the bag to show her mom. “Not chips.”

Julie blew out a steadying breath. “Fine. Unless you two want me to take away your snacks, stop arguing. Please.”

“Look what I got.” Gavin’s chubby, four-year-old fingers were wrapped around a sealed, hard-boiled egg.

She laughed. “Oh, neat. An egg.”

Kade shrugged. “That’s what he wanted.”

Julie stood and smiled at Kade. “That was sweet of you to let them pick a treat. Thanks.”

“I have to become their favorite uncle somehow.” He mussed Gavin’s hair and glanced around our small group. “What’s up with the impromptu hall meeting?”

Nikki sent Kade a meaningful glance. “We were just discussing Landon’s crush.”

“Oh.” He nodded and lifted a thumb to me. “I applaud the top-notch acting. Very nicely done.”

I ran a hand through my hair. “You are all ridiculous.”

The door opened, and Dad poked his head out. “You guys okay?”

We nodded in unison.

He didn’t look convinced, but he waved us to him. “You should come see this. Here.” He stepped out into the hallway. “I can stay with the kids.”

Intrigued, all four of us quietly filed back into the room. Sandra stood next to Grams’s bed with her phone pointed at Quinn and Grandma, like she was recording them. When my gaze fell on Grams, my feet froze to the floor. With slow, careful movements, Grams was frosting the gingerbread house without Quinn’s help.

She moved the bag of frosting along the seam of the roof. “One year, when Julie was around five, we put all the different candies in bowls. Nikki was an infant and needed feeding before we could begin decorating. We made the mistake of leaving Julie alone with the candy.”

“What happened?” Quinn asked, her chin resting on her propped-up arms and her attention glued to Grams.

“She had a candy feast.” Grams’s airy, familiar laughter filled the room. How I missed that sound. “Except for the black licorice. She’d tried one piece of it and spit it out, back into the bowl.”

“I don’t blame her. I’m not a black-licorice fan either.”

“That’s because they don’t make it like they used to.” Grams dabbed a few dots of frosting on the roof of the house, and then, with concentrated effort, she picked up a few Dots and placed them along the top.

Quinn’s gaze met mine, and she gave a timid smile that warmed me straight through. “Did Landon ever help you with one of the gingerbread houses?”

Grams’s back was still to us, and a part of me wanted to walk to where I could see her face, but I wouldn’t risk pulling her out of the moment. Out of the memories. “He wasn’t ever particularly interested in anything but the candy, but there was one year, when he was around ten years old, that he got an idea for a gingerbread house—well, not a house, but a rocket ship—and he was determined to make it. His mom and I tried our best, but I don’t think we quite understood his vision. After a few failed attempts, he finally made something he was pleased with. I can still remember how proud he was of himself. It didn’t really look like a rocket ship, but I was proud of him, too. I always have been. All three of them. They’re such good kids.”

“I know they all think the world of you,” Quinn said. “They love you a lot.”

Grams nodded. “I love them.”

Nikki’s hand found mine, and she smiled up at me, tears brimming in her eyes. I glanced to my other side, where Julie wiped at the tears streaming down her cheeks. I wrapped an arm around her, and the three of us stood there together, relishing the moment—the glimpse of the grandma we’d missed so much.

“A gingerbread house?” Carson walked past us and toward the table before any of us could stop him. “I want to help.”

Julie stepped forward. “Carson, sweetie. Come here.”

He paused next to Grandma’s chair and looked back at Julie. “Can’t I help?”