Total pages in book: 149
Estimated words: 145731 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145731 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
“Hi, Rowan,” she says, amused at Mia’s intervention.
“But my question remains,” I say. “What are you doing here? Or is this just a random coincidence?”
Mia beams like she’s just pulled off the heist of the century. “Oh, I handled everything. You said earlier you needed to meet with the Ghost of Christmas Future, so I set it up while you were in the shower.” My daughter gestures to the café adjacent to the store. “When I go to my skating lesson, you two can have your meeting. But first—books.”
I blink at her, then at Isla, still speechless that my sneaky daughter hijacked my text conversation with Isla. “I—”
“I can’t argue with that logic,” Isla interjects, smiling in a way that’s both tickled and self-assured. “Books.” She repeats the word like it’s sugar on her tongue.
I don’t usually invite people I’m not close with to hang out with my kid. As a single parent, I need to trust any adults spending time with my daughter. But I trust Isla enough, being Jason’s sister and all. Plus, Mia has met Isla a few times, since my daughter and Jason’s kids are friends. And this is just a quick bookstore outing, so…it’s fine.
“Books it is,” I grumble.
“Also, this Ghost of Christmas Future loves shopping.” Isla turns the full wattage of her smile and all her attention on Mia. “Tell me, what are you looking for?”
And just like that, the matchmaker is chatting with my kid about her favorite books as Mia guides us toward the kids’ section.
I follow, holding a ridiculously dressed dog and wondering how the hell I was outmaneuvered by a nine-year-old and a matchmaker in a pink snowflake scarf. Through my own cell phone, no less.
The kids’ section is decked out in holiday chaos. Wooden ornaments dangle from the shelves, and a table in the middle features a towering stack of Christmas-themed books. Mia beelines for a display marked Magical Holiday Reads!
Right at the top is Sleigh Bell Scout: Tales from the Tinsel Treasure Chest.
“They have it!” Mia says excitedly, reaching for the hardcover with glittery red-and-green lettering. “Can I get it?”
This is my chance to outmaneuver my kid. I stroke my beard like I’m deep in thought. “If memory serves, you wanted an Advent calendar.”
“Yes!” Mia says, bouncing on her sneakers.
“Then how about a book Advent calendar?” I propose. “You’d get a new book every few days under one condition.”
“Sure!”
“You read me a chapter a night,” I say, crossing my arms, playing the part of the stern dad but feeling pretty clever. Not that it’s a hard sell since Mia loves reading, but still, I’ll do anything to foster her love of books.
“It’s a deal,” she says, sticking out a hand.
But before we can shake, Isla clears her throat, stepping in like an attorney in a courtroom. “One second, please. I need to confer with my client.”
“You’re a lawyer now?” I ask.
“I’m representing the young reader, yes.”
I fight off a smile, unwilling to let on that this is amusing me, then gesture for them to go ahead. “Have at it.”
Isla pulls Mia aside next to a beanbag frog and whispers something to her, who gasps, her eyes going wide. Then Isla whispers again for several seconds. Mia nods, then marches back to me with newfound confidence, chin up, shoulders straight.
“How about a book a day?” Mia proposes.
“That’s a lot of books,” I counter. “You can’t read a book a day. That’s why I didn’t suggest a book a day.”
“But an Advent calendar is every day through Christmas Eve,” Isla says, like she’s caught me on a technicality.
And sure, maybe it is. But…“It doesn’t have to be,” I point out, clinging to reason. “A few books would make more sense. Be more practical.”
“A practical Advent calendar, Rowan?” Isla arches a brow as if unable to believe I’d suggest something so horrific.
“I don’t want to just collect books like they’re trinkets or toys,” I say…practically.
“Maybe I can’t read one a day, but I definitely can read them all year long,” Mia insists, taking over the argument from her counsel. “And, like you said, books are better than junk.”
“She’s got a point,” Isla chimes in with a mischievous smile. “Plus, you can still have her read to you every night. And the long-term reading value, stretched out over twelve months, is fantastic. And fewer trips to the bookstore means more quality time for the two of you. And she’ll never be caught in that dreaded state of being without a book to read again.”
I narrow my eyes at Isla. “You’re not supposed to help her team up against me.”
“Why not? She’s clever. I like clever people.” She tilts her head toward me, her smile deepening, then she nods to the fluffball in my arms. “She must get it from the dog.”
I snort. “Low blow.”