Christmas carols seeped from under the plants and between the lights that decorated the side of the road, drawing people toward the entrance with an invisible force. Amy glanced around at the heavy trickle of people making their way in the same direction. She tightened her grip on Zach’s hand. “This is...different.”

“Different good or different bad?” Zach dug into his pocket and pulled out his wallet.

“Just different. You pay to get in?” That was different weird. Was that a category? Even if it wasn’t before, it was now. “Downtown, it’s really just the trees in the Ellipse, in front of the White House? There aren’t things like this. And it’s free.”

Zach grinned. “This is free, but they’re collecting donations for Operation Mistletoe, so I figured it’d be good to contribute. The church always takes up a benevolence offering for them in December. It’s a great group. There are some Christmas displays that charge per person, or car if they’re drive through. Gotta pay for the electricity somehow. As for the National tree? This is way better.”

“I thought you said you hadn’t been before? How can you know that?” Amy smiled at the guy manning the entrance booth. It almost looked like they were crossing a border into the North Pole. They probably did that on purpose. Still, the National tree was pretty hard to beat.

“The tree downtown is fine, but it’s all so politically correct. Nothing there about Jesus, just partridges and Santas and that sort of thing. And then the fifty little trees, each one from a different state...I mean, okay, it’s cool that Idaho is proud of their potatoes, but do you really need to see a tree with potato decorations?” Zach held out the map he’d taken from the guy at the gate. “Where should we start?”

Amy shook her head. How could he not love the trees downtown? Sure, it wasn’t overly Christian. But it was the embodiment of the melting pot America was trying to be. Wasn’t it? It had all the different customs and cultures living peacefully next to one another on the branches of an enormous Douglas Fir. Symbolic. It was symbolic. Did he really not get that? She glanced down at the map and laughed. “Well, this isn’t looking particularly Christian, either. Let’s start with the Santa lights, shall we?”

“Sure. Flip that over and you can read to me about how the legend of Saint Nicholas comes from a very real person who wanted to share Christ with the boys and girls in his country.”

She winced. Mind reader. She cleared her throat and found the correct number on the back of the map. She glanced up and stopped. The sheer number of lights formed into different Santas was...staggering. There were some with just the feet showing out of a chimney. Others cracking a whip over the heads of reindeer. Still more danced merrily with Mrs. Claus. And in the center, one knelt beside a manger that cradled the Christ child. Her eyes misted. Maybe this was better than downtown after all.

Amy snuggled under Zach’s arm as they sipped hot chocolate and listened to the piped-in choir music. The sign near the live Nativity said local choirs would be performing nightly. Tacked under it was a handwritten note apologizing that tonight’s scheduled performance had been called off due to a flat tire. She and Zach had had a good laugh about that. School equipment, even in the suburbs, wasn’t always the best. Though a flat on the bus was a new one for them. Why hadn’t they just had the parents bring the kids individually?

“Maybe we should see if we can bring a group out next year. I bet some of our kids would get a kick from singing next to a real, live llama.”

Amy grinned. “I think it’s an alpaca. But yeah. We should look into that.”

“Since when can you tell llamas from alpacas, city girl?”

“Since I can read?” Amy tapped the description of this area on the map. “No mention of llamas, but I do see the a-word here. Along with donkey, sheep, and cow. None of which I actually needed labeled, even as an inveterate city dweller.”

Zach snickered. “Fine. I apologize. But you have to admit, llama is more fun to say than alpaca.”

She shook her head. “I love you. You’re weird. But I love you.”

He kissed her forehead. “I love you.”

Even with the crowd that had grown as they walked through the various light “neighborhoods,” as they were labeled on the map, it didn’t seem overwhelming. That was definitely different than the Ellipse. Downtown you were never far from a suffocating crowd when you went to something like this. Maybe the suburbs weren’t all bad. She blinked. Did she really just have that thought?

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Why?” Amy twisted so she could meet Zach’s gaze.

“You stiffened up. You cold? We can get going.” He rubbed her arm, sending sparks of warmth through her body.

Amy laughed. “I just surprised myself is all. But yeah, I could stand being somewhere not accessible to the chilly breeze.”

Zach stood and held out his hand, giving her a little boost to her feet. “So. Better than downtown? Not as good? So different it’s incomparable?”

“Let’s go with option three. But I had a really good time. We should definitely come back again next year.” Amy squeezed Zach’s hand as they worked their way back toward his car. Next year. Had she ever made plans like that with someone? The answer was easy and immediate. No. With Zach it was easy, maybe too easy, to want to plan for next year. And the year after that. And five years after that. He had to feel the same. Didn’t he?

“Back again?” Devon grinned and set aside the book he was reading. He dropped his sock-clad feet to the floor, making room for Zach to scoot around the coffee table and have a seat on the sofa.

“Dad, be nice.” Amy wagged her finger at her father before leaning down to kiss the top of his bald head. “Mom kicked us out of the kitchen, said Zach had to wait and be surprised.”

“Hmm. I think I know what that means. You’re in for a treat, Zach. How’s school treating you?”

Amy sat next to Zach, scooting so their legs touched. She smiled as he rested his hand on her knee. Did he even realize that’s what he’d done? The movement had been natural, almost a reflex. She patted his hand, then left hers resting there.

“School’s good. Amy’s doing an amazing job with the Christmas program.”

“Holiday program.” Amy grinned. “Don’t let yourself slip up, or I’ll get in trouble.”

Zach groaned. “Fine. Holiday program. Still doing an amazing job. And I think the kids are enjoying it, too. Though several of them have asked why we have to include all the various celebrations when most of their families only celebrate Christmas.”

Devon chuckled. “The plight of the public school teacher. Offending people through their very efforts not to be offensive.”

Amy chuckled. “I don’t think it’s that bad, Dad. But I’ve heard those comments. I just remind them that we’re in school, so they should consider it educational. Seems to get them to stop complaining.”

“Where you can hear. They stop if they think you can hear them. They don’t seem to have any trouble complaining around me. I think I’ll borrow your line.” Zach squeezed her knee.

“You’re welcome to it. I stole it from Terri.”

Zach laughed. “I should’ve guessed. That woman...why didn’t she want to be in charge this year?”

“She’s making noises about retiring and wanted to be sure it’d be in good hands if she did. Though if she does retire, I suspect the music program will face the same plight as the drama program: an opening on the website that the administration has no interest in filling, because it means they can use the funds for bolstering another underfunded area of the school.” She sighed. It wasn’t right. She understood the economics of the situation, but still. These kids needed more than math and reading. With such limited electives, it was no wonder so many of them hated school. Or dropped out altogether.

Quiet settled over the room. She hadn’t meant to be a wet blanket. At least it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence. Zach shifted, taking his hand off her knee and slipping it around her shoulders instead. Her dad caught her eye and winked. Approval? She raised her eyebrows and he nodded. Approval. She smiled. She hadn’t been worried. At least, not too worried.

Zach cleared his throat. “I’ve been thinking about D’Andre and his art.”

Amy frowned. “What about it? He doesn’t take art class, and that’s one of the few options we have left, so how serious can he be?”

“Talking to him, pretty serious. It’s his mom who’s opposed. She wants him to do college, doesn’t see art as a viable way to make it in the world. Which, if you went the pure art route, I would totally agree with. But...have you noticed he’s also got a bit of a silver tongue?”

Devon laughed. “We have a lot of kids in this neighborhood who grow up like that. I think it comes from trying to talk their way out of trouble.”

Amy bristled. If Zach was serious about staying at the school, she wanted—needed—him to get serious about moving downtown too. Not just so it was easier to see him, but so he was invested, really invested, in the place. Oh sure, splitting time made sense for Terri, since her husband worked out there. But if they were both going to work here, they needed to live here. Give back economically, not take their paychecks and invest them in the suburbs. “Dad. This is a good neighborhood. You make it sound like we’re south of the river.”

“No he doesn’t. I think it’s just kids today. We buy so much popcorn, candy, wrapping paper, cookies...you name it, from the kids who go around door to door. And we don’t even have kids. It’s like elementary schools teach you the basics of selling before you get your ABCs. Anyway, I was talking to my roommates and they said it sounded like he’d be a perfect fit for advertising, particularly graphic design. Jackson offered to touch base with his friend, David, who works in IT and see if he could find some internship possibilities. Do I talk to D’Andre about it before there’s something concrete or after?”

“After. Don’t you think, Dad?”

Devon nodded. “I’d wait. No point getting someone’s hopes up and then not being able to deliver. But I think it’s great that you’re looking into it. You’ve got a real heart for these kids, don’t you?”

Zach nodded. “I know some people question it, but I do. It’s impossible not to, once you’re around them for more than five minutes. Well, most of them. Some of them I’ll be glad to see the other side of.”

Devon laughed.

Marisa wandered into the room. “I missed the joke again. Dinner’s ready.”

Amy followed Zach and her Dad into the dining room. Did he mean her? He thought she still questioned his commitment? That was unfair...wasn’t it? Maybe not. Though she’d hidden her feelings—or at least she thought she had. Apparently she wasn’t a very good poker player. How many apologies was she going to end up owing Zach for things she didn’t realize she was doing? How long was it going to take for him to get tired of forgiving her?