Wrapped Up in Christmas Joy

Ben didn’t look away from their game, seemingly fully focused on the television screen, but Cole didn’t fool himself. If he ignored the question, both of his buddies would be all over it, accusing him of holding out on them. It was much better to address things directly with them.

“No. There’s no need for me to talk to Sophie. Like I said, there’s nothing between us other than the toy drive.”

Sophie had read his journal. That he had to keep reminding himself of that when he thought of her, because it wasn’t what automatically came to mind anymore, said a lot, considering the gravity of what she’d read in that blasted book, considering what motivated her friendliness.

What came to mind first now was her quick smile, her bubbly personality, her exuberance for life, and how the world looked brighter when she was around, as if she somehow had the ability to help others to look at the world through the rose-colored glasses she viewed life through.

Probably because she glowed with happiness and anyone near her couldn’t help but be affected with joy.

“Yeah, that’s been a whole, what, week?” Ben joked, not sounding impressed by the time gap.

“Not even,” Andrew added from where he leaned back in his chair and killed bad guy alien after bad guy alien.

“I mean, if you haven’t seen her or talked to her in five days, then clearly you must be telling the truth and there’s nothing between the two of you,” Ben continued.

“Clearly,” Andrew nodded.

Cole rolled his eyes. “With friends like you…”

“Hey, I provided you with Thanksgiving dinner, didn’t I?”

r /> “Grandma Ruby provided Thanksgiving dinner,” Cole corrected. “A very delicious Thanksgiving dinner. Is there any of that buttermilk pie left?”

Maybe mention of the pie Grandma Ruby had sent with them would change the current course of the conversation.

“You leave my buttermilk pie alone,” Andrew warned, glancing away from the game long enough to shoot a narrow-eyed glare Cole’s way.

“I was there,” Cole reminded. “I heard her say that pie was for all of us.”

“She handed it to me, and I’m blood. I get dibs.”

“Trapped,” Cole mumbled out loud, the solution to his seven-letter word clue finally hitting him. Rather than writing the word onto the crossword puzzle, he read the next clue. He never wrote the answers in but used the games to help keep his mind sharp, to make himself remember each answer and where it fell on the page. He liked the extra challenge.

“What?” Ben asked, confused at Cole’s non-sequitur.

“Nothing.” Cole shook his head just as his phone dinged, indicating he had a text message.

Pausing their game, Ben and Andrew exchanged looks, then turned toward him wide-eyed.

Cole’s phone never went off. There was no reason for it to when he was at the firehall. He was only ever contacted by his fellow firefighters, and there was no reason for them to contact him on his cell phone when he was already there. The firehall was the only reason he even had a phone in the first place as he had no qualms with living off the grid and had done so in the past. But it was against policy not to have one in case there was an emergency that meant additional manpower was needed.

“My money is on that being from a certain toy drive partner,” Ben guessed.

“One who’s nothing more than that,” Andrew added.

While pulling his phone from his pocket, Cole frowned at his friends. “You two are crazy and have overactive imaginations. Sophie has no reason to text me.”

“Maybe she climbed another tree.”

Cole rolled his eyes. “It’s probably just a wrong number.”

Only, when he glanced down at his phone, it wasn’t.

It was a funny turkey meme.

Sent from Sophie.

“You do realize wrong numbers don’t make you smile, right?” Andrew pointed out.