Sugar Nookie: A Small Town Christmas RomCom by Marika Ray

Author:Marika Ray [Ray, Marika]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Marika Ray Publishing
Published: 2024-10-29T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Rae

Hutton didn’t even get to finish breakfast before Dom was blowing up his phone with calls and texts. He finally excuses himself from the table to call him back from the privacy of my bedroom. Henry gets most of the eggs in his belly and not on the floor.

“Are you excited to start kindergarten next year?” I ask as I clear our plates from the table.

Henry kicks his feet and gives me that shy smile of his that melts my heart. “Kinda. Mommy says I have to learn to wead.”

I put the dishes in the sink and return to the table. “Well, you’ll certainly learn your alphabet and a few words. But you’ll also get to color and play and meet new friends.”

Henry frowns. “Jen twied to make me do the alfbet but I wasn’t any good at it.”

“Is Jen your nanny?”

“She was. Don’ know who is now.”

I tamp down my irritation on his behalf. “Well, what if we try to learn a few letters today? Maybe you can learn the letters that spell your name?”

“Henwy!” he cheers.

“That’s right. Here, let’s use this paper. I’ll draw the letters for your name and you can color it and then practice making the letter underneath.” I pull a few fresh sheets of paper from his pile and make bubble letters out of his name. He holds the pencil in his right hand, showing me that someone has indeed tried to show him how to write.

He’s working on the H when a truck starts beeping outside. I get up from the table and run to the window to see the local hardware store truck backing up into my driveway.

“Damn, Nancy works quick.” My breath fogs up the window.

I jam my feet into my boots, throw on my jacket, and run to the garage to direct the plywood delivery to the car space next to my run-down beater of a vehicle that Aksel had brought back to my house. Aksel said the rusted-out spots were giving off the wrong vibe for their ski lodge. He was teasing of course, but he’s not wrong. The delivery guy isn’t someone I know, but he’s kind, stacking all the boards against the side wall of the garage in a neat fashion. He tips his head and accepts the five-dollar bill I hand him before taking off again. I run back inside to see Henry still working on his letters with his tongue clamped between his lips.

“Can I draw with you?” I ask, taking a seat and taking off my jacket. Henry smiles and goes back to tracing the letter H.

My heart is racing and my brain is spinning with ideas I need to get down on paper. I take a clean sheet and start sketching out my idea for the backdrop. I want this backdrop to be a masterpiece for the kids. I also want Hutton to be proud of my work, just like I’m proud of his. I make a mental note to order more paint.

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