Chapter 11
CHAPTER 11
J ack led Avery to the stall.
Avery let out a delighted laugh as he gazed down at all the materials laid out before him. His hands twitched with eager excitement. His golden eyes burned with an almost childlike wonder.
Jack smiled as he watched Avery. The man’s mood was infectious.
“How do we start?” Avery pushed his copper hair behind his ears and leaned forward.
“Can we get two bases please?” Jack asked the pixie working at the stall.
She reached under the table and handed them two wreath bases, which had been made with string tightly wrapped around straw in a circular form.
“What do we do?” Avery asked, gaze darting between Jack and the pixie.
“You choose the pine and greenery you wish to use and wrap it around the base wreath with string and wire.” The pixie pointed at the different types of greenery. “Then you can choose what you want to embellish your wreath with. The items in baskets with the red ribbon hold the cheaper embellishments.” She pointed at the little red bows on the baskets.
“It increases in price as you go along until you reach the baskets here with the white ribbon wrapped around the handle.” She pointed. “These are quite expensive.”
Jack could see why. The baskets with white ribbons held handmade glass ornaments, so exquisitely made that a master blower must have made them. They had been hand-painted afterwards.
“We charge at the end based on what ornaments you use.” She smiled, wings fluttering.
“Well, let’s get started.” Jack reached for some greenery.
Avery dived in, grabbing pine and wrapping it around the straw base, attaching it with string. He kept glancing at Jack’s wreath and then his own as if making sure he was doing it correctly.
“It looks good, Avery,” Jack encouraged with a laugh.
Avery’s smile stretched his cheeks, his face lighting up. Jack basked in the glow of his happiness. As they continued, their shoulders and arms brushed. Jack could feel the warmth radiating from Avery’s frame.
Finally, Avery held his up. A deep hum escaped him.
“And now you need to embellish it. Remember this side is cheaper.” Jack pointed at the dried berries, fruit, moss, and flowers. “Then they get more expensive up there.” He pointed to the expensive end.
Avery nodded. Jack reached for the cheaper embellishments. But Avery began pulling things from every basket, without seeming to have any concern for price. Whichever decoration caught his attention, Avery grabbed it with barely restrained glee.
Avery attached dried flowers and berries and then wove pieces of silk around the wreath. Then he attached several glass birds.
It looked lovely. But Jack’s insides squirmed with unease as he thought about the price. Growing up, he and his siblings had often made wreaths at the Christmas market stalls. They’d only ever been allowed to use the cheap dried embellishments. Money had always been tight in their family, even before his parents died.
For several years after their parents died, there’d been no money for wreaths, no matter how much his younger siblings had cried, begged, and pleaded. It had been painful to say no.
“I’m done.” Jack held up his wreath. He’d used the red and orange berries and flowers to decorate it.
“It’s beautiful,” Avery said.
Jack hesitated. “It matches your hair.” Jack held it up.
Avery’s eyes widened. His pale cheeks reddened.
Jack almost kissed him right there, Avery was so damn cute.
“I’m almost finished too.” Avery placed one more bird onto his and secured it. “What do you think?”
“It’s beautiful.” But Jack’s chest tightened. He couldn’t stop thinking of how much that would all cost.
Avery beamed. “It is, isn’t it?” His slender fingers caressed the wreath. Almost reverently, he touched the delicate glass fairy wrens, finches, and sparrows. “Mine,” he whispered.
“That’ll be nineteen divets and thirty-nine bells, sir,” the pixie told Avery the price.
Jack’s eyes widened, and his gut convulsed. He was about to tell Avery that he could take out some of the more expensive ornaments to bring the price down. His mother had made Jack do that once. But Avery didn’t bat an eye.
Absently, he reached into his pocket and found his coin-purse. “And I’ll pay for his too.” Avery gestured to Jack’s.
“You don’t have to do that,” Jack protested. He couldn’t afford Avery’s, but he could at least pay for his own.
Avery smiled. “I want to. And you gave me the cookies.” And then he paid for Jack’s significantly cheaper wreath.
The pixie boxed up their wreaths and tied them with string.
Jack frowned. How could Avery so easily afford this? Even if Avery was an upper servant in one of the best houses, this was not cheap. But Jack still didn’t know what Avery did for money.
He liked to read. He owned books. Jack didn’t understand how that was a profession.
After their parents died, when money had been especially tight, Grady and Jack often stayed up, worrying and arguing over how they could make ends meet. They’d tried to hide it from their younger siblings as best they could.
Both he and Grady had worked in the bakery and had taken extra jobs, working after the bakery closed for the day. For years, they’d barely slept.
Still, they’d never had enough money.
Exhaustion, weariness, and worry had been Jack’s constant existence. He remembered barely eating at the dinner table so his younger siblings could. He and Grady had lived off the leftovers from the bakery.
In fact, even when they’d had enough money, he and his brother would often sit back and say they weren’t really hungry. They’d wait until their siblings had eaten their fill before tucking in themselves.
Avery held his box to his chest along with the small box of cookies Jack had given him. “This is a wonderful night.”
Jack let out a breath and forced his muscles to relax, pushing away the memories of his past. Instead, he focused on enjoying the sight of Avery happy.
Clearly, Avery had enough money. Jack didn’t need to worry about him. And for some reason, despite Avery earning far more than Jack, he didn’t look down on him. He never commented on Jack’s work, home, or clothes. Obviously, not all la-di-da servants were complete prats. Some could be nice.
“Where is Carrie tonight?” Avery asked as they continued walking.
“At home. I don’t take her to the markets. She’s quite old and needs to stay warm.” Jack chuckled. “She’s asleep in the apartment, basking in the warmth of the fire right where I left her.”
“A perfect spot for a lizard.” Avery laughed. “I always like to sleep on the rug by the fire. And I wanted to ask about Cas. How did a pixie come to live with you and be part of the family?”
Jack took a moment to follow the abrupt change in topic. “Well, it’s a bit of a sad story. Cas grew up in a foundling home. Then he left. He escaped. He lived on the streets, and then one day he saw the Christmas baubles in the bakery window and heard my mother singing Christmas carols and just walked in. My parents took him in. Since then, he has been a part of the family.”
“That is very kind of your parents. They sound like wonderful people.”
Jack gazed ahead at one of the trees. “They were excellent parents.”
“Were?” Avery asked, voice very soft.
Jack swallowed. “They passed thirteen years ago. Carriage accident.” He paused, collecting himself. “It’s just been me and my siblings since.”
“I’m so sorry.” Avery reached out. He seemed to hesitate, then he took Jack’s hand and squeezed.
Jack could tell he was about to let go, so Jack tightened his hand on Avery’s and threaded their fingers together. Jack could feel Avery’s pulse, so strong and steady beneath his fingers.
“Mother and Father loved Christmas.” Even after all this time, it still hurt Jack to talk about them. “They loved baking Christmas cookies and decorating the house and getting us presents. We try and keep the traditions alive.”
They walked silently for several moments. Snow began to fall. It caught in Avery’s copper locks.
“My mother died when I was young.” Avery dropped his head. They stopped in front of a Christmas tree.
“I’m sorry,” Jack said. “How did she die?”
“She got sick. I don’t remember her.”
“And your dad?”
Avery hesitated. “He’s…around.”
Jack frowned, not knowing what that meant. “And you don’t have any siblings.”
Avery shook his head. “No. It’s just me.”
The words held a world of sadness and loneliness that struck Jack in the chest. Jack didn’t know how to make it right. How could he? So he stepped closer to Avery.
“Do you want some hot chocolate?” It was almost an automatic response. Jack’s parents had always given them hot chocolate when they’d been sad. Hot chocolate, cookies, and of course, tea.
If Jack had been at home, he’d have brewed some tea for Avery. Perhaps lemon balm to help heal emotional wounds. But hot chocolate would do nicely too. “I know a stall. It’s on me.” He could afford hot chocolate.
That brought a smile to Avery’s face. “I’d like that very much.”