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I start gathering wrapping paper.

“Wait.” Shiloh scrambles to his feet. He runs toward the tree.”I have one.”

I look at Maverick.

He looks just as confused as I am.

Shiloh drops to his knees and reaches behind the tree skirt. After a lot of grunting and several branches shaking dangerously, he pulls out a small package.

It’s wrapped in red construction paper. Mostly. There’s a lot of tape involved. He walks over and holds it out to me.

“For you.”

My chest tightens. “For me?”

He nods.

I sit down on the rug.

Maverick watches us from the couch.

“Did you make this?”

Another nod. “With Miss Patty.”

I take the package. There’s a piece of white paper taped to the front. In large, crooked letters, it says: NOEL. And the E is backward.

I smile.

“You wrote my name.”

“I know.”

“You did a really good job.”

He looks pleased with himself.

I carefully peel back the construction paper.

Inside is a wooden picture frame covered in red and green paint, glitter, and approximately nine hundred sequins.

There’s a picture inside.

I stop breathing. It’s the three of us. The picture Dottie took last week when we built the gingerbread house. Shiloh is in the middle. I’m on one side. Maverick is on the other.

There’s frosting on Maverick’s nose because Shiloh put it there approximately half a second before Dottie took the picture.

Across the bottom of the frame, Miss Patty has written two words in black marker.

MY FAMILY

Oh. Oh, no. My eyes fill instantly.

Shiloh frowns. “You’re crying. Did I do it wrong?”

“No, honey.” I swipe beneath my eyes. “You did everything just right. Sometimes grown-ups are silly and we cry when we’re really happy.”

“That is very silly,” Shiloh says.