Free Blessings of the Season by Annie Jones Page A

water on my hair, when it dries it will be even curlier,” he warned.
    â€œThen I’ll use something else I have in the kitchen. How about shortening?” She gave his shoulder a pat, then made a show of going to the drawers again, saying things like, “Now where are my kitchen shears? I don’t want to use my good sewing scissors for a messy job like this.”
    â€œMessy?” He sat up and gave the crowd a worried look that was not far from how he felt. “Maybe I ought to go to a real barber, dear.”
    â€œNonsense. I can do this. You do have faith in me, don’t you, Nathan?” She stood over him, kitchen shearsin hand. She snipped them in the air a few times and raised her eyebrows, trying to look sinister.
    He chuckled softly at the attempt but not at the question. “Adelaide, my dear, I have more faith in you than I have had in anyone in a long time.”
    And he meant it.
    She knew he meant it, too, because all the playfulness of her pretense fell away and she looked at him as if…as if what he said and did really mattered to her.
    That was something, outside of his interactions with Jesse, that he hadn’t had in a long time, either: to feel as if he mattered. Up until this moment, he hadn’t realized how much he liked that feeling. Now he understood it was probably behind his initial decision to stay on in Star City. It was good to be valued, especially at Christmastime.
    â€œAre you going to cut his hair or not?” a man in the group around them called out.
    Addie shook her head as if to bring herself back to the task at hand. She held up the shears again and plopped a can of shortening down on the table. “You ready, Mr. Goodlife?”
    â€œFor anything, Mrs. Goodlife,” he said with a smile. Then he added, “But I do have one last request.”
    She paused with the shears above his head. “I guess every man in your position deserves that. Ask away.”
    â€œIf I do end up looking like the poodle next door, promise me you’ll get me a really nice hat for Christmas.”
    She paused for only a moment. Then she smiled, a bit sadly, and said, “I promise. I’ll do whatever I can to make sure you get what you really want for Christmas.”

Chapter Ten
    S ince she was already in costume and ever eager to grab her share of the spotlight, Bivvy stepped up and took on the role of Goodwin’s salesclerk in the webisodes they filmed not long after Addie finished Nate’s haircut.
    â€œHe looks pretty cute all done up like a 1959-type guy, don’t you think, Mom?” she asked as Nate and Jesse mugged their way through the last of the two-minute spots that the foursome had improvised all over the store. Though they had only made ten of them, it had taken nearly two hours, and Addie was so tired she was looking forward to the tedium of puttering around her kitchen set.
    â€œWell, he’s a pretty cute fella,” Bivvy said, plunking her elbow down on the glass countertop across the aisle from the electronic-toy display. “Which one are we talking about?”
    Addie laughed lightly. She was going to say “Nate, of course,” but when she turned and saw the two guysstanding there, with Nate pretending to need Jesse to explain the basics of computer gaming and Jesse eating it up, she shook her head. “Both of them, I guess.”
    â€œHave you given any thought about what you’re going to give them for Christmas?”
    â€œYes, and I’m not telling you.” Addie made a slashing motion, the sign of zipping her lips. “You’ll blab.”
    â€œI will not.” Bivvy, who had her glasses, that pencil and for all Addie knew a partridge in a pear tree in her hair now, folded her arms. “But just for saying that I’ve half a mind to not tell you what they’re getting you.”
    Addie laughed. Bivvy pouted a bit, then gave up and broke into a chuckle,