Chapter 26
TJ
That escalated quickly. That’s all I can think as Lucy holds the back door to my house open for me.
Five hours ago, I was on a date with another woman. Four hours ago, Anton texted me that Lucy was at Mood Reader. Three and a half hours ago, Lucy told me she’s an author. I told her about Tess, and somehow, I felt lighter and more willing to get to living than I have in years.
So here I am, with a giant Christmas tree.
We stopped to get a tree stand on our way from Mapleton to Green Bay because I own no such thing. Lucy bustles inside with it now as I remain in the entryway of the living room.
“Can I take down your fake tree?”
“Please do.” Gram scoots in the back door with Pa hot on her heels. “That thing is a bigger eyesore than Susie’s carbuncle.”
I wanted Lucy to have a full Christmas tree farm day experience, which is why I let my grandparents know I needed their help. They were all too willing to drive across town and meet us here for an impromptu tree decorating party.
Gram appraises the tree, giving it a nod of approval. “This will be quite an improvement.” She hurries into the living room to help Lucy.
They move the table I had the old tree propped up on and get the stand situated. A minute later, I have the fresh tree in place. The spicy scent from the boughs and the crisp cold we brought in with us fill my small home.
“Looks good, son.” Pa claps me on the shoulder. He doesn’t say anything else. He doesn’t have to. He knows this is hard for me. He’s proud of me for taking this step. He and Gram—let’s be real, mostly Gram—have been on my case about my lack of enthusiasm for the holiday season for several years.
I catch his eye, and questions furrow the lines on his brow, likely wondering what changed. Why did I suddenly let Christmas back into my life now?
The answer lies in the woman standing across the room, gently running her fingers over the needles on one of the tree’s branches while Gram chatters away about her neighbor’s hairless cat.
“The thing is mean, I tell ya. No one wants to visit over there. Pity the unsuspecting visitor who gets caught in that beast’s crosshairs … or lack of hair, I should say.”
Lucy is being a good sport, making consolatory sounds in response.
She reaches over to the bookshelf and moves the photo of Tess in the frame toward the front.
She catches me staring at her, and she raises her brows, seeking permission.
My entire body relaxes. It means a lot to me that she understands the line I’m straddling, trying to honor Tess while not overlooking her loss.
It’s something I’ll navigate my whole life.
Lucy seems to have a keen sense of how to help me walk this road.
“Who wants hot cocoa?” I ask.
Both Lucy and Gram’s hands shoot up, and they dissolve into giggles like two peas in a pod. Something that was tightly wound in my chest loosens ever so slightly at the sight of them together.
“I’ll take a mug, too, TJ.”
I wrench my attention away from the women in the room and face my grandpa.
“I’m going to go grab that box of ornaments from the car.” He starts for the door.
“Want me to get it, Pa?”
He shakes his head. “It’s not that heavy.”
Before I can argue, he disappears.
I begin assembling everything I need for hot cocoa. My store-bought mix is going to pale in comparison to the rich, chocolatey goodness we were treated to at McGregor’s tree farm, but it’s more about the thought, right? As the kettle is boiling on the stove, I check my phone.
Anton texted the group with Del, Poe, and me … because of course he’s going to make a big deal about me leaving Mood Reader with Lu in front of my closest friends.
Anton
How’s your date, TJ?
I guess I should clarify … the one with Lucy Dupree??
Del
Dude! Since when?!
Anton
Since he ditched his lunch date to come and see Lucy in Cashmere Cove. The two of them left together hours ago.
Del
I can’t believe you’re holding out on us, Teej.
Poe
I’m all for this if it means you’ll stop hanging around with jersey chasers.
Anton
Ditto.
Del
I third that. Don’t leave us hanging. What’s going on?
Anton
They’re probably too busy making out for TJ to respond.
Poe
I’d put money on that.
Del
I would too.
Anton
He’s been obsessed with her since that first night at the gala. I’m waiting for him to see it for himself.
Poe
I have faith, but it’s TJ, so we might have to give it some time—he’s not the sharpest crayon in the box.
Del
Ohhhh, sick burn. TJ, where are you to defend yourself?
I roll my eyes at these hooligans, though I have to admit that their hypothesis about Lucy and me making out is reminding me yet again about how she told me she’s never been kissed.
Today, out in the trees, I felt like we had a moment. A couple moments. The air was heated and taut between us, and a not-so-small part of me wanted to keep her in my arms and press my lips to hers.
Then she said I was her story inspiration, and now I’m not sure if any of what I was feeling can be considered real. If she was simply method acting—method writing, method brainstorming?—then she likely doesn’t actually see me as someone she wants to kiss.
Then again, opening up to her and having her do the same made me feel like it was the two of us against the world.
She promised she wouldn’t leave. That has to mean something, right?
But she could have meant she wouldn’t let our friendship drop.
We’ve established we’re friends. That’s all we’ve discussed.
Aside from some flushed cheeks and longing glances at each other’s mouths—not to mention the sensation of having her in my arms, which I won’t forget anytime soon—things have remained completely platonic.
It’s all I wanted. Except with Lucy, and my new attitude regarding my past, I can’t keep denying my change of heart.
TJ
You guys are hilarious. Truly. If football doesn’t work out, have you considered pursuing a career in comedy?
Anton
He lives! Where are you? Is Lucy with you? Rose says hi.
I snort out a laugh, pulling the kettle off the burner when it starts to whistle. I fill the mugs with one hand and type back with my other.
TJ
We went to get a Christmas tree for my house. Now we’re decorating it with my grandparents.
Poe
How very domestic of you, TJ.
Del
I’m so proud. Our little baby is all grown up.
TJ
Shut up.
Anton
I’m offended we weren’t invited.
TJ
Maybe you shouldn’t joke about Lu and me making out and then I’d reconsider.
Anton
I take it all back! I swear!
(But have you kissed her? Curious minds want to know.)
TJ
No! We’re friends. That’s it.
Poe
But…
Darn it. Poe is the deep thinker of the group. Of course he’s not going to let this slide. I don’t understand how these men know what I’m thinking and through text message, of all things.
TJ
But nothing.
Del
I call bull.
Anton
Second.
Poe
Third. You know you can talk to us, right, Teej?
I scrape a hand down my face. I wish I knew what to tell them.
“TJ, everything good in there?” Gram’s voice rings out from the living room.
“Yep,” I call. “Be right there!”
I tap a final message out on my phone screen, because what else can I do?
TJ
If I knew what to say, I’d talk to you. But I’ll keep you posted.
I put my phone on the counter, but it buzzes right away in quick succession.
Anton
We’ve got your back. Don’t be afraid to take a chance with her.
Del
I’m rooting for you two.
Poe
Bring her to the game this weekend and my place after!
I sigh. I would love nothing more than that, but I don’t know that she wants to come. She’s hiding away. Granted, you can blend in in a football stadium, but she’s Lucy Dupree. Gorgeous. Famous. Mysterious, thanks to her disappearance from the public eye. She’s going to stick out.
TJ
I don’t know, guys. But thanks for being here.
Poe
Just ask her!
Poe’s last message rings in my ears as I load up the tray with four hot cocoa mugs and head back to face the explosion of Christmas that’s happening in my living room.
“Oh good, TJ, there you are.” Gram holds up a popsicle-stick angel with one of my grade-school pictures glued in place of the angel’s head. “Look at this one. You made it in kindergarten!”
There’s so much joy on her face that I feel guilty for the years I’ve spent not allowing her to celebrate this holiday because it was too hard for me.
I smile at her now. “Might have missed my calling as an artist.”
Gram chuckles. “Stick to your day job, honey. You glued these sticks upside down. No one else’s looked like this.”
“It’s called artistic expression, Gram. I was a savant even back then.”
Lucy laughs lightly. Her cheeks are dusty rose and her eyes are bright.
She thanks me for the hot cocoa when I hold out the mug.
Her fingers brush over mine when she takes it from me, and a zip of pleasure flies up my arm.
She sucks in a breath with enough force that I can hear it, which leads me to believe she also feels the crazy, electric connection coursing between us.
What does she want with it, though? Lucy told me in this very house the night of the Cinderella experiment that she didn’t want anything more from me. Has that changed?
I take in the entire scene—Pa, stringing lights around the tree; Lucy, leaning toward my grandmother while Gram prattles on about another homemade ornament’s origin story.
Lucy’s face is set in a soft smile, and she brings the mug of cocoa to her lips, nodding at something Gram said.
I trace her movements, all velvety and sweet, and it’s like a fire that had turned to ashes inside me ignites with the tiniest flicker of light.
I want to pursue her, even though that means opening myself up to the possibility of loss.
What I see now is how I’d also have the chance of gaining something truly great.