Chapter 1
THE NEW NEIGHBOR on the ground floor had told Amanda his name was Ben, and the package that had been delivered to her apartment by accident was addressed to B. Schneider. It had to be his. There weren’t any other new tenants in the Valencia, and she already knew everyone else. Ben hadn’t been home when she tried to drop off the package, so she’d left a sticky note on his door inviting him to come up and get it.
When the soft knock came at her door, Amanda almost didn’t hear it. She’d been watching one of the old Rankin-Bass Christmas specials on TV, the one with the Heat Miser. Her guilty pleasure. She loved that guy and his catchy tune. She was still singing when another, louder rap came at the door, and she opened it to reveal the tall, lean man dressed in a pair of black jeans and a matching black hoodie over a gray T-shirt.
“Hi, Ben, c’mon in.”
He nodded and held up the sticky note. “Amanda, right?”
“Yep.” She stepped aside to let him pass, noticing his hesitation and the way he looked at the mezuzah on her doorjamb before he came through the doorway. “I have it here somewhere, hold on. Let me find it.”
Her living room was a chaos of wrapping paper and boxes. She’d been putting together gifts for her family and friends, as well as about a dozen presents she’d bought for the angels she’d plucked off the Christmas tree outside the department store. She kicked aside a plastic bag of bubble wrap, thinking maybe his package was there on the floor, but nope.
“Must’ve put it on the table,” she said over her shoulder. “You know how it is, you put something somewhere to keep it safe, but then you forget where you put it.”
He hesitated again before following her around the mess in the living room and through the arched doorway into the dining room. “Thanks for keeping it safe for me.”
“Most of the time this place is pretty secure, but this time of year it’s not good to leave packages out in the lobby.” She lifted a shifting pile of shiny gift bags that slipped from her grasp and scattered.
Ben bent to help her gather them. “Yeah. Christmas. Lots of deliveries, I guess.”
Amanda gave him a glance as she found the medium-sized box and handed it to him in exchange for the bags he’d picked up. “Yep. Here you go.”
He weighed the box in his hands, turning it to look at the return address with a frown. He tapped the label. Then he tucked it under his arm and looked around her apartment.
“No tree,” he said.
“I’m Jewish,” Amanda said with a shrug.
“But you’re wrapping Christmas presents.”
She laughed. “Well . . . just because I’m Jewish doesn’t mean I can’t send Christmas presents to friends or family who celebrate. A bunch of them are toys or pajamas and stuff for needy kids that I picked from the angel tree. I try to do that every year.”
Ben’s brow furrowed. “That’s generous.”
“It’s the most wonderful time of the year,” Amanda said, keeping herself from singing the words, but only barely. At the look on his face, she shook her head. “No? All the lights, the goodwill, the cheer? Doesn’t do it for you, huh?”
Ben looked surprised. “I didn’t say that.”
“It can be a hard time of year for people, too,” she said, wondering if he were one of them. When he didn’t offer up any information, she added, “But welcome to the Valencia.”
“Thank you. Amanda,” Ben added as though reminding himself of her name. Suddenly, he stuck out his hand. “I don’t think we met officially before.”
She took it, bemused at his grip and the way he pumped their hands up and down. Very formal, but also like he wasn’t used to shaking hands at all. It was the way he pulled his hand away from gripping hers and looked at it for a few seconds before smiling sideways at her.
“Nice to meet you, too, Ben,” she said. “I hope whatever’s in the package is something fun.”
“It’s from my mother,” he told her. “So, probably not.”
Amanda pressed her lips together to keep from laughing. “Oh. Oops. Sorry.”
“Don’t be.” He shrugged. “It could’ve been from my father. That would’ve been worse.”
There didn’t seem to be much to say about that. Amanda had always considered herself blessed that she got along great with her parents, and her siblings, too. A slightly awkward silence fell between them as they both stared.
“Well,” she began just as Ben said, “I guess I should—”
“—get going,” he finished when she waved him to speak. “Leave you to your wrapping and stuff. Thanks again for getting the package to me.”
“No problem.” She walked him to the front door. “It’s what good neighbors do.”
“You’re the only neighbor I’ve met so far.”
“Oh . . . well, everyone’s all really nice here. It’s a good place to live.”
Ben’s lips pressed together before he answered, “I’ve been working a lot of hours down at Morningstar Mocha, you know it?”...
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