Merry 6
“Who did these?” Lucas asked, as he gathered up some of the framed paintings of Cricket all decked out for Christmas with happy folks walking along the decorated streets. There were a few other paintings of just the shops all aglow. “I thought you were showcasing your work.”
“This is Ethan’s work,” I told him, tingling with excitement. I could hardly believe there were so many happy paintings in just one room. It had to be some kind of Christmas miracle.
He glanced over at Ethan. “No, this isn’t. What the fuck, bro?”
Ethan gazed down at the floor, smirked, then looked Lucas squarely in the eye. “They’re all mine. I just never showed them to anyone before.”
My heart broke wide open for him. He’d taken the first big step in stating his truth, and I helped. I was falling in love, and it hadn’t even been two full days. How could this be happening so quickly?
“Get the fuck out! These aren’t yours. Maybe Merry painted them, but not you with your cold-ass heart.”
Ethan took a deep breath, then let it out. “They’re all signed. Take a closer look if you don’t believe me. Go ahead and laugh. I can take it. I’ve kept them hidden because I was told this kind of art was fluff, and no serious artist would put this kind of work out into the world, so I’d paint one every now and then and hide them in this room. Well, not anymore.”
If I wasn’t mistaken, I detected a bit of pride coming from Ethan, which I hadn’t seen when he showed me his darker, tragic work.
“What the actual fuck, Ethan?” Lucas said. “These are great! Are you fucking kidding me? You know the folks in this town will eat this stuff up. It’s their town, their shops. You not only captured the feel of this place, but you even incorporated one of Cricket’s group marriages. Look at this one.”
I looked closer and sure enough, Ethan had painted one woman and three guys walking in front of Christmas Carousel, the year-round Christmas shop run by Rudy Camarari, who was in exactly that kind of relationship.
The shop was also where I wanted to work year-round. I’d put in an application, but so far, I hadn’t heard a word. Too bad. It would be the perfect job for me. Owning my very own year-round Christmas store was my life-long dream, but I just couldn’t figure out how to make it happen. I’d take the next best thing and work in one if that were all I could do… at least for now.
“I love them all,” I said, meaning every word.
“Let’s get some of these over to your booth,” Lucas said as he slapped Ethan on the shoulder. “You’re one slippery fuck. Never thought you had it in you.”
“Never thought I’d be putting these up for sale, but I am,” Ethan said. “We’ll see if it was the right move or not.”
Lucas loaded up his cart. There was a creaky service elevator in the back of the building that we would use. No one used it on a regular basis. Too afraid it might break down, and it would take hours to get you out of the damn thing. Different for moving, though. You simply placed the items in the elevator, then sent it up or down to the appropriate floor. You either dashed up or down the stairs to meet it, or somebody was already waiting for the load when it arrived. I had to learn that the hard way.
I got stuck between floors when I was moving in, but thankfully, I called 911 and Fireman Hunter, a kind and courageous man, came to the rescue. And if that wasn’t enough, he helped me move the rest of my stuff into my apartment. I knew right then and there that I’d made the right decision to live in Cricket. The people were amazingly kind.
After last night with Ethan, along with knowing he was the artist behind my favorite painting of all time, well, I was in love with him, the town, and my new best friend Noelle, who had helped me sneak around with the tree, ornaments, and lights out on the rooftop early this morning.
I worked with Lucas for the next three hours, bringing some of the paintings over to the booth, then helping Ethan hang them. Ethan decided that some of the work was simply too good to sell the original, without making a few copies first. We sorted them out and brought down much of the rest.
At some point, Connor came over, carrying drinks and muffins. He looked almost pained to have to walk into all this Christmas bliss.
The entire square buzzed with excitement while folks set up their booths. There were Christmas ornament booths, doll booths, hand-made jewelry, air plants, homemade soaps and candles, fine wood crafted tables, lamps and chairs, leather purses and backpacks, dresses and hand painted scarves, special tree-topers, and don’t even get me started on all the delicious baked goods that featured vegan selections, gluten free and regular. I couldn’t wait to immerse myself in the entire experience. There were even several groups of carolers, dressed in traditional Dickens-era clothing strolling around, bringing joy to everyone they met.
I couldn’t be happier. All we needed was some light snow, and the day would be perfect.
Christmas was only a week away, and this town and these folks were more than ready for it.
Townsfolk already milled around Ethan’s booth, enjoying his paintings and wanting to buy them. The festival hadn’t even started yet, and Ethan had already made several sales. He was charging several hundred dollars for each one, yet no one seemed to care. They simply loved his paintings. I could tell by the look on his face that he didn’t believe any of this, but I did. His work was simply lovely.
“If I have to endure one more group of carolers this morning, I think I might explode,” Connor said as we hung the last framed picture.
“But they sound so good,” I told him.
“It’s too damn early in the morning for it. Can’t they wait until the festival officially begins?” Lucas said, as he helped Ethan with some last-minute issues inside the booth.
I glanced down at my phone for the time. “It officially begins in ten minutes. I’d say they were right on time.”
“They’ve been singing for the last hour,” Connor continued, having to make his point. “And it’s the same damn songs, over and over. Aren’t there any new ones? How many times can we hear Deck The Halls or Silent Night and get excited?”
I finished getting the counter set up for Ethan, who was already busy with customers who had fallen in love with some of the smaller canvases, when I turned to the two grumps and said, “How about if we take a little break? Pick up a few savory pockets from Sweetie Pies and take some refuge in my apartment. My treat.”
Connor took a step back from the painting he’d just hung, then turned to me, grinning. “You got yourself a deal. Get me the hell out of here.”
“You two go on ahead,” Lucas said. “I’m going to hang out here with Ethan to make sure everything holds up the way we planned. I might catch up with you later.”
“Sounds good,” I said. Then I turned to Connor. “You know… we can even watch one of my favorite episodes of Gilmore Girls. I mean, you did say that you never saw an entire episode, right?” I asked, thinking now would be the time.
I expected him to balk at the whole idea, but instead he said, “Sounds like a plan.”
I could hardly believe it. Mr. Coffee Grump was coming home with me to watch my favorite show. It had turned out to be a great day on so many levels, I wanted to dance back to my apartment, but I knew that might be a bit over the top for Connor.
We offered to bring Ethan and Lucas some food, but they both refused, saying they were fine for now, having downed most of the muffins, so we took off.
After officially meeting Lexi Cardinal, a friendly woman in her late twenties and owner of Sweetie Pies, she loaded us up on not only a few savory pockets, but she also threw in two slices of incredible-looking pie, one apple and one cherry for free, to officially welcome me to Cricket.
“Thank you so much,” I told her, and we headed for my apartment. “I can’t believe how nice she is.”
“Lexi’s a sweetheart, and her pies are incredible. She ships them all over the country.”
“Wow. What a great business. And the shop is so cute. Pink’s my favorite color, next to red, of course.”
“Of course,” he said, grinning. This time, it was a genuinely warm grin. I was finally starting to have an effect on him… or was it simply his anticipation of pie?
Once I opened my apartment door, and we walked inside, awkwardness overtook me. Considering I hardly knew him, and what I did know, saddened me. Like Lucas and Ethan, although Ethan seemed much happier now, and Lucas was slowly coming around, I knew Connor still wanted nothing to do with Christmas. I was surprised he agreed to accompany me back home, considering our first encounter at his coffeeshop hadn’t gone very well.
“You don’t have a tree up yet?” he said as soon as we walked inside my living room and placed our goody bag down on the kitchen counter. My apartment was more or less two big rooms. The kitchen, dining room, and living room were one area, and the bedroom and bathroom another, with a tiny half-bath off the living room for guests.
“I’ve been so busy, I haven’t had time.” Which was true. Getting to know people took up a lot of free time, especially when building something was involved.
“Miss Merry Christmas doesn’t have time to put up her own tree? I don’t think that’s acceptable behavior. C’mon. We’re going to get you a tree before we sit down for this meal or watch any shows.”
“But you said you wanted to get away from all the Christmas noise outside. How will going back out for a tree help?”
He walked up to me and slipped his hand in mine like we’d been friends for a long time. Then he said, “I know the perfect place to pick up a tree where music is impossible to arrange.”
FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER, we pulled up to Sammy’s Christmas Tree Farm only a few miles out of town. Rows and rows of trees at various heights lined the hills around us on both sides of the road. There were a few families mulling around, out near some of the taller trees, and absolutely no music to offend Connor’s ears.
Just pure silence, with the occasional child’s laughter wafting through the air. I instantly fell in love with the place, even the small barn where everyone paid for their trees, and the workers loaded them up into whatever the buyers were driving. We drove over in a monster black pickup truck that I almost couldn’t get into without help from Connor, who got more and more charming as time went on.
“Wow, this place is amazing,” I told him, once we were walking down the long paths of trees.
“Pick out whatever you want, grab the tag, and when we bring it back up to the barn and pay, somebody will drive out and chop the tree down for you, or we can chop it down ourselves. Whatever you want. These folks are the best.”
“How do you know about this place?” I asked as we walked. “I mean, for a man who hates Christmas, I wouldn’t think you would care to know anything about it.”
“I didn’t always hate this holiday. There was a time when I really liked it. Now, it reminds me of a bad experience I don’t like thinking about.”
I thought I’d play dumb and see if he’d tell me his version. “Do you want to tell me what happened?”
“I’m surprised one of the guys didn’t already tell you.”
“You three seem to have each other’s backs, so spilling something hurtful about one of you, probably isn’t in the cards.”
He nodded, as we kept walking. The sky had turned a deep gray, and the temperature had dropped. I hoped the Art Fair was still doing well. I slipped my knit hat out of my pocket and pulled it on my head. Connor dragged up his hoodie on his jacket.
“I was victim to a runaway bride situation, which in the long run was a good thing. I certainly didn’t want to be married to her if she had any doubts, but I just wish she’d have done the breakup a little differently, instead of in front of the entire town, and on Christmas. Hell, she even started down the aisle. What the hell was that all about? Plus, she really liked Christmas, like you do. Maybe not as much, but enough so she insisted that our wedding take place on Christmas… and she ran anyway. That was three years ago. You’d think I’d be over it by now, but every time this damn holiday comes around, it rips off the bandage and leaves me raw.”
“I get it. That must’ve been hard to take. I’m so sorry that happened to you,” I told him, meaning every word. I could see the pain that still registered on his face. “But we’re here now… and you’re with me, and not… what was her name?”
“Rachel… Rachel Jones.”
“You’re here with me now, and I’m not going anywhere except home with you and our tree. We should get one for Laughing Goat as well. Or is that too much?”
He stared at me for a moment, smiled, and said, “You drive a hard bargain, Merry Christmas.”
“Is that a yes?”
“Let’s not make it a big deal,” he said, and I reached out and took his hand in mine. He wrapped his big hand around mine, and it felt right… loving.
“Not a big deal at all,” I told him, knowing damn well it was a huge deal.
As we continued to walk along, I thought about the whole cutting down a living tree and realized I didn’t want to do that. I couldn’t purposely be responsible for killing a perfectly lovely tree, albeit a Christmas tree.
“Do they sell any with their roots, so I or rather we can replant them after the holidays?”
“Yeah, they do, as a matter of fact. If the tree is small enough, they’ll pull it up and put it in a pot for you, if that’s what you want. Personally, it doesn’t matter to me, either way.”
“Great. If it doesn’t matter, then I can’t kill two of these lovely trees, but I would love to take home this little guy, and how about that one for you?” I pointed to a smaller one in the next row over. I stood in front of a four-foot tree that had so many branches, I could barely see a trunk. His couldn’t be more than three feet tall. Perfect for his shop. They were absolute perfection. They deserved to go on living after Christmas.
“I don’t know. This one might be too big to dig up with its roots. The other one is perfect.”
“Can we ask?”
“Sure,” he said. “Let me do the talking. I know the owners, and he grabbed the tags to take back up to the barn while I sat with our trees.
While he was gone, I had a little talk with the universe, asking for the honor of becoming this tree’s mama. Wanting to take it home and promising to decorate it this year and every year from now on. I even gave it a gender, a boy, and named him Nick.
As far as Connor’s little tree… I named her Jingle Bells, and I made the same promise to her as well.
When I saw Connor on his way back, while hanging off the side of a small backhoe, I knew my ask had been granted.
I let out a loud squeal and hugged both of our new baby pine trees.
It took Joe, with the hoe, approximately one minute to uproot thick Nick, and another minute to uproot Miss Jingle Bells, my new fierce evergreen friends.
Once Nick and Jingle were safely out of the ground, we followed Joe back to pay. Once they were placed in their new red pots and watered, they were even taller than either of us had expected. And once we got them back home, and I placed Nick on the small square table my dad had constructed in college for his dorm room, Nick shot up to be as tall as me.
For now, little Miss Bells sat on the wide windowsill, gazing down on her new hometown.
I cracked open a bottle of Prosecco, added a shot of OJ to our glasses, set out our meal on the table, and for the next hour, we sat and chatted about everything from his coffee shop to my past and why I moved to Cricket. We truly got to know each other, which had seemed impossible yesterday morning when we first met.
Now, as I sat across from him, on my third glass of wine, full on some of the best pie I’d ever tasted, I felt as though I had known him all my life. Not only was he easy to talk to, but he was easy on my eyes, had an infectious laugh, and a wicked sense of humor, which I absolutely loved.
“I can’t believe you were ever a scrawny twenty-year old,” I told him, admiring his broad shoulders and muscled chest. The man was simply delicious to look at and fun to be around.
“You can’t hang with Lucas without hopping onto his workout workshops. He’s an amazing coach. But I can’t believe you once hated Christmas,” he said, after I’d confessed my deepest secret.
Not the why, just the result. “I did. For the longest time. So, I can relate to you and your two best friends. I know what it feels like to hate the happiest time of the year, and I will do anything to make each of you love it again. I think I succeeded with Ethan. Lucas is still a work in progress, and you… well… maybe once you watch my favorite Christmas Gilmore Girls episode, you’ll come around. And if that doesn’t work, I’ll do anything to bring you back around.”
He blinked a couple of times, then crossed his arms on the table and leaned forward. “Wait a minute… did you say anything?”
I chuckled at his inuendo. “Within reason, of course. I won’t hurt anybody or any living creature, but I’ll try my hardest to help you love Christmas again.”
“Like you did for Ethan?”
“I suppose he told you about us?”
“Not the details, but yes. He might’ve mentioned a thing or two about painting on a new… um… canvas.”
He sipped on his mimosa, which was almost gone.
I leaned on the table, thinking how I’d like to feel his mouth on mine. “Ethan was easy. He wanted to love Christmas again, but he thought society wouldn’t let him. Once I convinced him that it didn’t matter what anybody else thought, he embraced his inner joy. Despite the little tree you bought today, I can tell you might be a bit more of a challenge.”
He smirked, and my insides turned to mush.
“Why do you think that?”
“Because your reason is triggered by a memory… a strong, hurtful memory.”
“Maybe it’s time to let it go… although, I like being the town grump.”
I was getting closer to the truth of the matter now. I could feel it. “Why does it bother you so much that she dumped you on Christmas?”
“Because, to be honest,” he began. “I fucking loved Christmas. It was my absolute favorite day of the year, and she knew it. She couldn’t have picked a worse day and a worse way to dump me.”
My heart shattered for him. I’d had a feeling there was more to the story.
“And there it is. Your truth. If you keep trying to run away from something you love, then she wins, and she wins every year. Let’s make a deal to stop all that right here and right now. Let’s be grateful for what we have. That’s enough to make me happy. Is it enough for you?”
“Wow, I never thought I’d say this, but yeah. It’s more than enough. Merry Christmas, you’re a little ball of magic.”
His grin grew wider and when it did, I knew I wanted to not only kiss him, but I wanted to have sex with this man… right here and right now.
“That makes me so happy!”
“I could kiss you,” he said, looking all serious, like he was about to break down and cry.
Once again, the universe heard my desire.
“Then why don’t you?” I told him, taking his hand and leaning over the table to get closer.
“What about Ethan?”
These guys were loyal to a fault. “Yes, we had amazing sex, and yes, I want to continue to be with him, but what else did he tell you?”
“That if you wanted to… if you didn’t have a problem with it… he doesn’t have a problem with sharing… if you want to, I mean.”
“I would love to,” I told him, imagining what that might look like. Just the thought of having sex with Connor and his two best friends immediately soaked my panties.
“You would?” He sounded a bit shocked, but I could tell he loved the idea.
“Very much so,” I told him with a chuckle. “But we sound so formal. We need to lighten up.”
“Okay… let’s fucking do it. When? When would you like to have sex?”
“With all three of you or just you?”
I loved how this man’s mind worked, despite all his bah humbug.
“I want you all for myself first. We can do the other thing later. Right now, well… we’re the only two here, and two’s enough.”
This was rapidly turning into a hot afternoon, despite the chilly start.
“What about the Gilmore Girls ?” I wanted to remind him of our initial plan in case he’d been counting on it.
He chuckled. “Seriously?”
That was my plan and not his. I chuckled right along with him.
“When did you want to try this?”
“Now is good.”
We were moving faster than greased lightning… if that was even a thing.
“Okay… in fifteen minutes. How about we meet under the tree?” I told him, wanting to freshen up a bit before we did this. The sun was getting ready to set, and it had been a long day.
“Make it twenty, and I’ll grab another bottle of wine from my stash in my apartment.”
“Deal,” and we both took off, eager to make this thing happen.