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Brad made a great show of being put out before pulling the very curvy Micah to him and smacking a locked lipped one on her. ‘Because baby, you want to turn me into your Prince Charming.’ Just as I could see Micah opening her mouth to deliver a stinging retort the first cries of the countdown started being called out in a chorus of different voices all around us. On impulse I turned to see what the sad eyed man was doing and looked up. Disappointment crushed me when I saw that he wasn’t there. I let out a small cloud of white in the air as I exhaled and brushed my brown curls from my face with a freezing hand. I was about to turn back to my friends when something about a man in a dark coat had me looking twice. He was tall…I’d say around 6’1, 6’2…tall for me in any case as I (much to my detriment) only reached what I considered a measly 5’3. He had his hands stuffed in the pockets of his grey winter jacket – I blinked. Wait, was that the blue eyed guy? I squinted and barely. “Oh, I definitely have treats for such polite and well-dressed children,” I laugh, dumping fistfuls of candy into each of their treat bags. Then I grab Will’s hand again and press a cellophane bag into it. “And I can’t forget the polite and well-dressed fathers, either. They need treats as well.” Suddenly, a thought occurs to me. “Will Benson…isn’t there another Benson in the neighborhood? I’m sure I’ve heard that name.” “Yes…my brother Mark. He doesn’t have any kids, so he and his wife are home giving out candy.” I remember Mark Benson’s wife. Another member of the Welcome Wagon. “Well, I wouldn’t want Mark to miss out on a treat. Would you give this to him for me?” I hand him another cellophane bag. “I hope you and your brother are good at sharing. That’s an important skill to model for your kids.” Will is staring at the cellophane bag, reading my note. His eyes widen perceptibly and he subtly reaches a hand down to adjust himself. I have to hide a smile. “We do like to share…and.
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