27. Leo
The week before the holiday, I took Mari to help set up the performance band inside the gazebo wrapped in twinkling lights. She never specifically asked for my help, but since I woke up in her bed and followed her here to the Christmas Market, it was assumed. So long as she let me, I’d always be a given in her life.
The first hour blurred by as together we found missing sheet music and extra reeds and fixed any last-minute wardrobe malfunctions. When the band performed, I studied Mari from the sidelines with a proud smile on my face. They went on early so that the local choir could go on by the time the sun set.
Now, as we strolled through the stalls of local vendors selling goods, the Christmas Market glowed with holiday magic.
Cath came and hung out for a minute after they played but quickly went off to meet some of her friends.
If pressed, I could name every student in all of Mari’s classes and what instruments they played. And not only that, but I could also say the name of almost every Green Valley resident we passed and recall at least one detail about them. There was Devlin’s wife, Kim, arm in arm with three other women, walking past as they talked and laughed animatedly. I wouldn’t recognize myself only a few short months ago. I was filled with content warmth just walking side by side with Mari, even if I wished she’d reach out and hold my hand. Various members of the Bunco Broads were out and about with their families, and they all stopped to chat and not so subtly pry into my relationship status with Mari.
I’d like to know that too.
“You two make a fine couple,” Belle Cooper said.
I glanced at Mari, but she just smiled and shifted the conversation to donations for next year’s band trip to Knoxville. She’d managed to gather quite a few donations this evening because of the show they’d put on. I wasn’t surprised. Just in awe.
Mari had given no indication of our relationship status. We hadn’t discussed labels. Anytime we got close to it, she shifted the topic. It was hard not to feel like that was my sign that she didn’t want to be seen as dating me.
I gestured to a display of snow globes, thinking of the one at her apartment, when her features pulled into a frown. She pulled me behind a stall, out of the flow of traffic.
“What’s all this?” she asked.
My hand was tugged up to her face as she examined all the pieces of fabric covering my palm and parts of my finger.
“It looks worse than it is. It’s just an added layer of protection.”
She pressed one of the hands to her chest. “Poor thing.” Maybe I should have played it up more than this. The attention and pampering were nice. In fact, she’d been touchy-feely all afternoon. I couldn’t be sure, but she seemed to have less control of her body as parts of her continued to accidentally graze me. If her ass brushed my crotch one more time...
“Does it hurt?” she asked.
“Not too bad. I’m just getting some calluses back but mostly it’s for grip and to prevent worse pain.”
“It looks metal,” she said, not releasing me.
“All for that rock star aesthetic,” I joked.
“Are you doing okay?” she asked.
“Yep.” I smiled.
“This isn’t too much? Being here around the masses of Green Valley?” She studied me carefully from under her winter hat.
“I’m having a good time.” My gaze moved over her cheeks, rosy from the cold. If I leaned forward to kiss her, in front of everybody, would she let me? I leaned closer to whisper, “Don’t tell anybody.”
She swallowed and licked her lips. “I like being here with you,” she said.
Warmth spread through me. She had no idea. “Me too,” I said.
“Can I?” She reached for my hand, and I squeezed her hand tight.
“Much better.” I smiled at her, and she grinned back up.
We continued to walk hand in hand. Adrenaline surged through me at the small gesture. She wasn’t ashamed to be seen with me. I tried to calm down my internal celebration. Mari was here, in the middle of her town, essentially shouting for all to see that we were something. I felt important and good and special.
“You never finished telling me about how the rest of the album went,” Mari said.
“It’s been really great,” I said nonchalantly. I didn’t want her to think I wasn’t grateful for her support. She and Janice had been incredibly encouraging when I’d hemmed and hawed about playing with the band again.
I was grateful to be drumming, and glad to be on good terms with the band, but my heart wasn’t in it anymore. I gave The Burnouts a shot. Just a few sessions. The Burnouts had made progress, and it was nice to be playing with them, but I was able to leave at the end of the day feeling like I’d done a day’s work with a healthy level of detachment. The record wasn’t done, but most of the guys were back home to be with their families. Except Vander, who opted to keep his place at the Lodge and hang out here rather than somewhere else. He was coming for Christmas, but I still felt bad that he’d be alone for so much of the holidays.
“And things are good with Vander?”
“It’s nice to be talking again,” I said lightly, but in reality, it was so much more than that. Thanks to Mari, a piece of myself had been returned to me. Thanks to Mari, so many missing parts of my shaken-up soul were coming back together like the perfectly constructed climax of a song.
“I’m jealous, I’m being usurped,” she said it lightly as she brushed her coat against mine.
“No way. You are still bestie number one. Tied with Janice,” I said with a shrug.
She stopped and looked at me with such wide and open eyes I thought I missed something and glanced around. “What?”
“I’m up there with Janice?” she asked in wonder.
I tugged at the scarf she’d made me wear. “Yeah. I talk to you every day. I spend the most time thinking about you and what you’re doing. You know me better than anyone.”
Abort, abort. You’re saying too much.I cleared my throat.
“You’re my numero uno bestie too,” she said as we kept walking.
“Last performance for the season. How do you feel?” I asked.
“Good. They sounded great. Even though they were all jacked up on the prospect of winter break starting. They’re good kids,” she said with a hint of wistfulness.
“What’s on your mind?” I asked gently.
She squeezed my arm and rested her head on my shoulder briefly. “The school year goes so fast. Soon, the seniors will be gone, and I don’t know. I guess I’m feeling sentimental with all the holiday stuff.”
“And what about Christmas? Did you ever reach out to your brothers?” I asked, wondering why she seemed sad. Normally, after a performance, she beamed with pride.
“Oh, um, yeah.” She fidgeted with her winter hat. “It’s Alice’s year with her family in North Carolina. She has a bunch of nieces and nephews, so the kids will have a great time. And since Mom and Dad are on a holiday cruise, Noah and Asim decided to use their miles to book a last-minute holiday in Switzerland. Very posh,” she said lightly.
But that meant she would be alone. My heart stuttered. She’d brushed it off, but this was a blow for Mari. It would be for anyone, but especially for her. She’d spoken so much of her distant family and her hopes for future plans. My heart absolutely broke.
There was no way she would be alone for even a moment if she didn’t want to be.
I stopped and grabbed her hands. “Stay with us. Over break.” I almost begged.
She blinked rapidly, lashes fluttering. “You don’t have to do that. It’s fine. I’m actually usually alone for the holidays. I don’t mind. I get a lot done.”
I absolutely couldn’t handle the thought of her alone at her apartment, combing through sheet music or entering grades, while forking a disgusting frozen microwave meal.
“I want you to. I’m asking you to.”
She chewed her cheek. “You don’t think Janice would mind?” Her voice shook as she asked, eyes damp.
I gave her a look. We both knew Janice would never mind. “I can check with her first, if you prefer.”
She deliberated as I made my case. “We have a fireplace. Plenty of books and puzzles. An at-home gourmet chef. You can treat it like a mini vacation. We have two extra bedrooms that are just sitting there.”
She stepped closer. “I don’t want to use the extra bedrooms.”
“Oh. Okay. No problem.” I’d been giving her space, but maybe I’d given her too much space. Maybe the spark that ignited a forest fire in me had burned out with the distance and time apart.
“I would want to stay in your room,” she added and swallowed. “Would that be okay?”
Electricity passed from my toes to my fingertips. “I would very much like that.” My voice shook.
She beamed up at me, and I bent to kiss her lightly on the mouth.
“Get a room!” Clara called as she passed arm in arm with who I thought was the football coach.
“I tried, but the Lodge is booked!” Mari called back.
I didn’t get their inside joke, but then again, I rarely did.
Clara threw her head back and laughed before whispering to the man on her arm.
Mari’s gaze returned to mine and never left, but I’m pretty sure she performed a gesture behind her back that I couldn’t see.
We shopped a little longer, getting gifts for Janice, Cath, Vander, Clara, and a few other people. That night, we packed up her bags—after a quick call to Janice in which I could feel her rolling her eyes at me for even asking—and I brought her to our house.
It felt so right and natural that I didn’t want her to ever leave. Yet I kept the words locked in, trying to be grateful for the week she’d stay with us.
We sat quietly in front of the fire that night, her reading and me trying not to stare at her as she did so. Occasionally, I’d get caught in my staring, and she’d narrow her eyes and tilt her head. She’d been quiet since we arrived, and I worried she was having regret. But the look in her eyes now was more thoughtful and curious.
That was Mari’s scheming face. I recognized it just as I heard Janice come downstairs. I swallowed, wondering what Mari had in mind.
Janice came into the room and cleared her throat. We both looked at her, and she stood, coat on and an overnight bag on her shoulder. “I’m going to the Lodge for a few nights. I’ll be back by Christmas Eve.” She lifted her chin as she spoke.
I shot a look at Mari, who was biting back a smile.
“By yourself?” I asked.
“No,” she said, elaborating no further. “Once I’m gone, you can pull into the garage if you want, Mari.”
Mari nodded, a blush on her cheeks.
“Did you know about this?” I asked Mari.
She flipped a page in her book, avoiding me. “I did not.” But was this the same as that inside joke with Clara?
“You two are very schemey. I don’t know how I feel about that. If I hear a marching band, I’m leaving.”
“Mari had nothing to do with this. The Lodge is all decorated for the holidays, and I need a change of scenery. Unlike you, I need time outside these four walls.”
I held back, pointing out I was out of the house most days. I wasn’t looking to argue or make her stay. In fact, my heart began to hammer.
“Have fun, I guess?” I said, but felt weird, considering where she was headed.
“You two have fun too. Be mindful of shared spaces,” she said on a turn and walked out.
Mari’s face was bright red. Four whole days with Mari. No plans. Just Mari.
My heart went wild. I smoothed my hands on the couch and studied her where she was sprawled on the floor. The fire caused her features to glow, and her long hair flowed over her shoulder. She looked at me with a soft curve to her lips.
“Janice and I are weird, aren’t we?” I asked Mari.
She shrugged. “I’d prefer that sort of relationship to none at all.”
I frowned, desperate to reach for her. “Mari. I’m so sorry about your?—”
Mari launched herself at me.