“Nice sentiment.” Nick had read it over my shoulder.
“Rudolph should have written this for you.” I handed Nick the card. “You’re the one who’s far too humble.”
“You can never be too humble.” He stuffed the card back in his pocket.
I shook my head. “Not true. Name one great chef who was humble.”
“Uh…”
“Exactly.” I sipped my hot chocolate.
The girls playing on the Christmas Mountain High School team were hustling and had whittled the gap to six points.
“You should tell me what you’re making for the breakfast special tomorrow so I can dream about it all night.” No offense to my mom’s cooking, but it wasn’t Nick’s cooking.
He gave me a funny look. “You dream about food?”
“I’m a professional dancer. Of course, I dream about food.” Because I couldn’t eat most of the things I loved.
Nick grinned. He was close enough that when we looked at each other I could smell the hot chocolate on his breath. “I’ll tell you a secret. Idon’tdream about food.”
“Really? What do you dream about? Ingredients?”
“That’s still food,” he pointed out.
“Oh, yeah.” I couldn’t think straight. All I could think about was how hot chocolate would taste on his lips.
On the court below us, the girls tied the game. The other team called time out. The home crowd was cheering.
Nick and I stared at each other.
“What do you dream about?” I asked again, suddenly needing to know.
“I’ll tell you if you figure out who Rudolph is.” He set his cup on the bleacher in front of him and applauded with the rest of the fans.
Did his dream involve the need for a bank loan? And why wouldn’t he tell me? We always told each other everything.
Well, almost everything.
If I wanted to hear his little secret, I’d need to identify the kind person sending me Christmas cards.
I reached around behind him and stole my Christmas card from his coat pocket.
ChapterNine
“Where have you been?”It was Dad who was waiting up for me when Nick dropped me off this time.
“I was teaching dance classes and then – ”
“Your mother has me worried sick.” Dad crossed the living room and hugged me, which was so out of character that I was immediately concerned. “She’s been too quiet all day. And I caught her sitting in the garage after dinner staring at her boxes.”
“Dad.” I held him at arms’ length. “Do you remember how you felt when you purchased the dry cleaning business from Grandpa?”
“You remember that?” His brow furrowed. “You were just a kid. But when it happened… I didn’t sleep for weeks. I was so worried that the business wouldn’t support us.”
I nodded. “I think Mom worries the shop won’t sustain itself.”
“Oh.” Dad stared toward the wall filled with framed pictures of the family, although his gaze seemed faraway, as if he was seeing something else. “I thought it was because I cancelled her credit card.”