Chapter 24 #2
“With no help.” I was wheedling for information and we both knew it.
“I didn’t say that.”
Okay.
Alright.
Laughter bubbled up inside me as things slowly started to click. It was just a wiggle of a theory but…I grinned. “You wouldn’t happen to know—”
“I told you not to ask.” Matilda glared at me, her bushy brows furrowed. “Now, shoo. I just got to the good part.”
I grimaced, then laughed. “Alright, alright. I’ll leave you to your smut.”
“Would be polite, yes.” Her facial expression barely shifted. Though…her lips did tip up a little. It was as close to mischief as I’d ever seen on her face.
I departed, perplexed, and…a little excited. Part of me was frustrated—because these tasks, these things were my things. But I was genuinely grateful for the help, too. I hadn’t been lying when I’d said I’d bitten off more than I could chew.
It was practically a scavenger hunt.
Brian already had a tree from Trent’s farm set up in his living room when I arrived. Someone, he wouldn’t say who, had dropped it off. It was a gorgeous Douglas fir and smelled like Christmas.
The Girl Scout leader, Mrs. Pendergast, informed me that someone had already picked up the packages. Her girls had been hard at work for weeks making homemade ornaments and selling them for charity. I’d offered to take them to the post office.
That wasn’t the last of it.
All over Belleville, I drove. Following leads that led to nothing. Until the clock said 8:30, and I had just enough time to head home and hop in the shower before Joe arrived. After popping the lasagna in the stove to reheat, I headed into my bathroom to perform the fastest shower known to man.
I scrubbed myself raw, you know—just in case Joe wanted me to—
Nope.
Don’t think about it or you’ll get hard and you don’t have time for that.
When I finished, I dressed in a t-shirt and sweats and headed into the living room to wait.
To say I was nervous for Joe to come over would certainly be an understatement.
To be honest, before I’d left the grocery store I’d debated going home and cleaning up.
I kept my house tidy. It wasn’t clutter or trash that needed clearing.
More…my…murder boards?
It was hard to think of something else to call them.
Post-it notes all over the walls depicting the tasks I needed to do throughout the year. Little yarn pieces stuck between them with push-pins so I wouldn’t lose track of what needed to happen when. What connected to what.
It was the easiest way to keep track of all the stuff in my head.
And normally…I didn’t have guests.
So, it didn’t matter that my entire living room looked like a crime scene of epic proportions. Or that my coffee table was currently occupied by a pile of thank-you letters for the donors to the Santa Fund project. We had branches now. Ten of them.
It’d…exploded somewhat.
Towns all over, with people—like me—hoping to make a difference.
The letters I did clean up, shoving them beneath a couch cushion so Joe wouldn’t see something he shouldn’t. I had plans to tell him. Had no choice, really. Unless I was going to break up with him—if you could call it a break up if we weren’t officially together? But…when I thought about him.
When I thought about those eyes.
My resolve to let him set the parameters of our relationship only hardened.
No way in hell was I going to be the one that ruined things for us.
Joe’s knock was as serious and straitlaced as he was. Just a steady beat. Three. A solid number.
I was off the couch in seconds, skidding across the floor in my socks, and yanking the door open with a goofy grin. He was as gorgeous as ever. A little sweaty. Dirt smudges on his cheeks. Pine needles in his hair.
Dressed in a new outfit—oh good, he’d gone home to change—Joe was a vision in flannel and his puffer coat.
“Hi, handsome,” I gushed, unable to help myself. “How are you? You’re looking lovely.” I reached up and plucked the pine needle out of his hair. “Mischievous.”
Joe grinned.
God, it was a nice grin.
“You think I don’t know what you’ve been up to all day?” I teased, flicking the little green needle over his shoulder and outside. “You stole my list.”
“Yeah,” Joe admitted, with no remorse at all. “You’re not the only one that can play elf.”
He shuffled his feet, eyes flitting down to my mouth. They lingered.
“Why?” I asked.
“I wanted to help you,” he said simply.
And oh.
God.
My insides turned to goo.
“Jesus Christ, you’re just the sweetest little puppy, aren’t you?” I sighed, reaching up to cup that heavy, handsome head. Joe leaned into the touch, blinking at me, his guard crumbling, wall by wall. He shook out of my grip a moment later, though, stepping back and out onto the porch away from me.
I only had a moment to wonder if I’d done something wrong, before my fears were dissuaded.
“Is that…” Over his shoulder, I could make out a very familiar shape in the back of his truck. “A tree?”
“Yeah.” Joe loped down the steps, heading for his truck with purpose now. I was still dazed by his sweetness, so it took me a second to figure out what he was doing. And by that point, it was too late.
Like it weighed nothing at all, Joe hauled the tree over his shoulder and began trekking back up the steps toward me. I had no choice but to hold the door open for him, then do my best to get out of the way.
Needles rained down, leaving a trail behind him as he headed into my house for the first time. He didn’t blink at my murder boards, just sat the tree down in an empty corner of the room with a grunt, and turned back to face me.
“I got the other stuff too,” he promised.
“The…other stuff?”
“Yeah.”
Joe was gone again.
I trailed after him, dazed for a new reason now. He came back with a tree stand and a tree skirt. Then—left and returned a third time with a giant bin. He set that beside the tree, and as I watched, speechless, Joe got it all set up.
“Alright.” His ass flexed as he squatted down to yank the lid off the bin he’d brought in. “This part you can help with.”
“What…” I stared. Stared and stared and stared as Joe pulled out ornaments and baubles and ribbon and lights. He stacked them into neat little piles, keeping everything organized. My heart was leaping. “What is going on?”
Joe paused, a fluffy white reindeer in hand. He swiveled to look at me. The look on my face must’ve been…illustrative, because he softened.
“I’m giving you Christmas the way you always deserved," Joe told me firmly. “And that starts with a tree.”
“But you’re the one that needs one,” I echoed weakly.
“Nah,” Joe said. Then, like the shit he was—obviously remembering the way I used to do the same exact thing to him—he patted the floor invitingly.
My knees were weak as I took my seat.
“Lesson one. We gotta do lights first,” Joe told me, repeating what I’d said verbatim when I’d been teaching him how to kiss. “They go underneath. There’s a right way to do things.” I wasn’t going to argue with that.
“Right.” My heart had never felt bigger. “That makes sense.”
“Then we do the big ornaments. Mom says that’s key. Making…focal points or whatever.”
“You called your mom about this?”
Joe gave me a look. “Obviously. But it’s also just something we picked up from her. She likes to talk. Kinda like you. But she’s more…ah…snappy.”
“Oh.”
“I told you Christmas was loud,” Joe replied. “Alright. Grab the lights. I’m gonna show you what to do.”
And then he did.
Joe and I fit four different light strings around my tree—our tree—before we even started on the ornaments.
He let me place all the biggest ones. Though I did move one when he made a face—obviously not liking the placement of it.
It made me laugh. Made the last dregs of tension that plagued me slip away.
Joe made this face every time I was going to place something wrong. Like he was constipated. And it was just—so cute. I did it on purpose a few times just to watch him tense, then relax when I moved the ornament back to someplace more Joe-ceptable.
“Now the little ones,” Joe said, handing me the fluffy reindeer he’d been holding earlier. It didn’t escape my notice that half of the ones he’d bought were animals. Little birds. Owls. Reindeer. Peacocks. Most white, but some a wild mix of vibrant colors. The cardinals were my favorite.
Two red birds sitting pretty on a fake glittery stem.
Almost looked like they were kissing.
“They’re gay,” Joe informed me as I placed them front and center.
“What?”
“Those cardinals,” he said. “They’re both male, and they’re obviously mates.” He was chatty today, and I didn’t want him to stop, so I stayed more quiet than usual. “They do that a lot on Christmas stuff. Cards. Decorations. Put two boy cardinals together. Makes me smile every time.”
“I can see why.” I let my fingers drift over their feathery little heads as I settled them into place. “It’s cute.”
“Yeah.” Joe handed me another ornament, this time a fish that looked suspiciously like Dori from Finding Nemo. “That one’s a regal blue tang. They’re from the Indo-Pacific.”
“Yeah?”
“They like coral reefs. I saw one once at my dentist office in Columbus as a kid.”
“You’re so fucking cute, you know that?” I couldn’t help but gush. Joe blinked, surprised. His cheeks blossomed into a gorgeous, splotchy red.
“Because I know animal facts?”
“Because you’re you, Joe.” I held a hand out. “Now give me that fat chipmunk you’ve got there and tell me something cool about it.”
Joe beamed.
When we finished decorating, Joe and I sat on the floor and ate plates of lasagna while we stared at the Christmas lights. In a weird way I felt like an alternate kid version of myself. Healed through Joe and his stubborn pursuit.
Staring at the lights as they flickered, red, green, yellow—over and over, I couldn’t help but be overcome. My belly was full. And my eyes burned.
“This is my first tree,” I told him.
“I know,” he said. Even though he couldn’t have possibly known that information. Couldn’t have known that Mary hadn’t been into Christmas until she’d married Daniel. Couldn’t have known that I never pushed, never asked because I’d told myself I didn’t need it.
Didn’t need this.
That for the last ten years, I’d let my Christmases be just as empty as they’d been when I was a kid. Because I thought it made that absence better. Like maybe it’d been a choice all along. But it hadn’t.
I knew that now.
I’d just been depriving myself.
I’d thought figuring out my orientation had been my biggest realization this holiday season. But apparently not.
“Which one’s your favorite?” Joe asked me, his head tipped back as he looked up at the branches. My whole house smelled like fir. Fragrant and delicious. Better than a fucking candle. The twinkling lights danced across his skin, lighting him up in a mirage of color that made him look unreal.
And yet…here he was.
Sitting on the floor in my living room.
His own empty plate of lasagna to his left.
Realer than real.
And here for me.
“You,” I breathed out.
Instead of being touched, Joe scowled at me. “Pick an ornament.”
“The cardinals,” I replied immediately. I didn’t have to think about it. He smiled, nodding in approval. It was a small, private thing.
“Good pick.” For a few more minutes, we sat there, side by side. Not moving. Not speaking. Just looking at the lights. Then…slowly…Joe shifted closer. He laid his head on my shoulder, having to hunch to do so. I kissed the top of his head.
And as the lights continued to dance, I once again wondered at the marvel that was Joe Milton.