The Holiday List (The Script Club 4)

“Clever machine.” I examined the crudely crafted metal toy, noting the hollowed frame and thin wheels supported by a simplistic chassis. “Did you make this yourself?”

“Yep,” he proclaimed proudly.

“In case you’re curious, the kinetic energy is approximately thirty point one joules. Peak speed occurred roughly at impact.”

He squinted. “Oh. Are you the scientist Dad said was coming over?”

“I am. My name is Chet Miller,” I replied, offering my hand.

He peered up at me through the fringe of hair over his eyebrows, with his head cocked thoughtfully, then wiped his nose on the sleeve of his red jacket and shook my hand.

Ew…I forgot that small people were walking, talking petri dishes.

“I’m Lincoln.” He pulled away to rescue the car that had crashed into my bag and held it up for me to inspect. “Check this out. The wheels on this one are different. They’re thicker.”

I gave the wheels a cursory once-over while clandestinely studying Sam Rooney’s mini me. There was no mistaking those genes. He had his father’s eyes and square jaw. I had no idea how tall the average eight-year-old was, but he seemed small…almost fragile. And yet very energetic. He talked a mile a minute, detailing how he disassembled old toys to use the parts to make new ones for his experiment.

“What’s the purpose of your experiment? Or…is this for fun?” I asked, adjusting my glasses as I hiked my bag over my shoulder.

“I wanted to see if the bigger wheels would make the cars go faster.”

“And your conclusion?”

“I couldn’t tell,” he admitted.

“Well, I hate to burst your bubble, but thicker tires hinder speed. If you had an engine, it would be a different story, and your measurements would be based on a medley of other variables.”

Lincoln frowned. “Doesn’t the ramp make it go faster?”

“Gravity helps…yes.”

“Oh. I thought so. Want to see the ramp Dad made?”

“Uh, sure.”

He skipped ahead of me and patted the top of the wooden platform. “It’s supposed to be a skateboard ramp, but I don’t know how to skateboard, so I use it for other stuff. I made a rubber band slingshot to see how far I could shoot an apple from this thing. But the apple was too heavy, so I took apricots from Mr. Jergen’s tree. He got kinda mad.”

I glanced over at the tree on the other side of the fence on cue. “Hmm. Did you want to see how fast or how far it would go?”

Lincoln shrugged. “Both, I guess. But I would have needed a lot more than ten apricots, and Dad said I was pushing my luck.”

I smiled. “Where is your dad?”

“Inside. C’mon. I’ll take you.”

“Thanks, but one more thing…” I gestured toward the street. “It’s important to conduct your experiments in controlled environments. You can’t control the traffic here, which means that your results would fluctuate too wildly to be of any use. And…it’s dangerous. I suggest going to the park around the corner. They have a paved walkway that no one uses, and the slope is a nice seventy degrees. I know that because I’ve measured it myself.”

“Oh, cool!”

I nodded in agreement. “You’ll like it, I think. In the meantime, you’ll get better results by turning the ramp to face the garage. The decline isn’t in your favor, but—”

“There you are.”

Sam strode toward us from the sidewalk, looking sexier than anyone had a right to in a blue plaid button-down shirt and worn jeans. God, he was even more handsome in person than in my fantasies. All he needed was a cowboy hat and boots and—

Whoa.

I cleared my throat and smiled. “Hello.”

I had a speech planned. I was going to be businesslike and direct. I had a list in my bag of holiday ideas to brighten his home, a few kid-friendly science experiments for father and son that I hoped would negate the idea of me interacting with the child, and…homemade chocolate chip cookies I’d baked last night. I was armed with fun and prepared to spread cheer, but I was suddenly so gosh darn nervous. My tongue felt heavy, and my heart hammered against my rib cage.

Sam’s welcoming smile creased the corners of his eyes, simultaneously calming me and sending jitters along my spine. I wouldn’t have thought that was possible. Then again, I hadn’t known my lust-o-meter would go into overdrive at the sight of him.

Pull it together, Chet.

I wiped my hands on my khakis, grateful when Lincoln filled his dad in with a synopsis of our conversation, ending with a plea to go to the park.

Sam ruffled his son’s hair affectionately. “We’ll check it out tomorrow, buddy. Mr. Tanaka just called. They’re coming to pick you up in thirty minutes for the movie.”

“Already?” he grumbled.

“Yeah, they have a few stops to make first. If you have any science-y questions for Mr. Miller, now’s a good time to squeeze them in.” Sam flashed a sunny grin my way. “If you don’t mind, that is.”