Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
MATTHEW
“Ithought I’d find you here.”
Brushing through the last of the cedar hedges, Avery is sitting like an elfish angel on the bench, her face tipped up to the moonlight, her eyes closed.
I don’t know if an elfish angel is even a thing, but if there is, she’s it.
“I just wanted a little quiet before the chaos begins.” A sad smile crosses her face before she opens her eyes and faces me.
“Are you okay?” I sit down on the bench next to her, searching her face for clues.
“Yeah, just a hard day today.”
“What happened?” I shift to face her, our legs brushing as I move.
“I had set a quota to bless a certain number of families this year and we didn’t meet it.” She looks down at her folded hands in her lap, her fingers nervously rubbing together.
“I’m sorry.” Placing my hand on her clasped ones, I feel how cold they are, making me wonder how long she’s been sitting here. “Are you short by a lot?”
“Twenty. I know it doesn’t sound like a lot in the grand scheme of things, but it’s a lot to me.
That’s twenty families that have to go with less than they deserve at the best time of the year.
I keep thinking that’s twenty families with children that are most likely not going to get presents and may not even get much of a dinner. ”
I hesitate, making sure that I find the right words to try to comfort her.
I can’t imagine being in a position where my job was to help people on that level.
Sure, I could argue that making 3D printing software helps people, but I don’t have people relying on me in that way.
It doesn’t make the difference between them being able to eat more than just the bare minimum or lighting up their face with a Christmas present.
Those are things that I’ve just always taken for granted.
I can’t imagine the immeasurable stress she’s under. But yet, she’s here for me, and she’s plotted out how to win our events.
She gives and gives, and now I’m sitting here wondering if there’s anyone that takes care of her. Who makes sure that she has what she needs.
“I think you’re an amazing woman who does the most incredible things for everyone else.
I know you’re disappointed you didn’t meet your quota, but just think of all the families you are helping.
There must be hundreds of people that will have smiles on their faces because you care.
You take the time to make sure that they have a Christmas they’ll never forget. ”
A hint of a blush crosses her cheeks, barely visible in the moonlight. “Thanks.” She looks away bashfully before gasping. “Oh! I have something for you.”
Again, she’s always thinking of everyone else.
I want to laugh when she hands me a clear bag decorated with a curled ribbon. Inside are two sugar cookies shaped like candy canes with the crushed candy on top.
“Did you seriously find these? I was just kidding.”
She lets out a laugh that releases some of the tension building in my chest. “I promise it wasn’t that hard. I found them at the cafe I got my coffee at this morning. It’s like it was a sign.”
“A sign of what, exactly?”
I pull on the ribbon and carefully remove one of the cookies. Breaking it in half, I offer one of the pieces to her. She doesn’t take it right away, but after motioning to her a few times, she accepts it.
I take a bite of mine and I’m instantly transported to a time when Christmas was more than just games and competitions.
It was when friends and family got together and just spent time with each other.
There were presents, but they were simple and homemade.
When my mom would laugh in the kitchen, and we would make cookies together.
It wasn’t about which town could do Christmas the best, or what was ‘won’ at celebrating.
I miss the time when the real meaning of Christmas was celebrated.
“Thank you. I don’t know, maybe a sign that you needed some sweetening up?” she jokes, bumping her knee against mine. “No, seriously, maybe that we’re on the right path. With the games, with the town…”
“With us?” The words come out of my mouth before I can stop them.
You know when you say something that was supposed to only be an inside thought? One that no one but you is supposed to know? This is one of those times. So instead of me thinking the words and truly starting to believe they are real, I go ahead and spoil it.
The sweet cookie turns to lead in my stomach. My heart rate skyrockets. My palms are sweaty.
I’ve ruined it. I still don’t know what ‘it’ is when it comes to Avery and me, but I’ve ruined it. The only thing I can do is look down at the partially eaten broken cookie in my hand, wondering if that is also a sign for us.
“Do you mean that?” Her voice is quiet and unsure.
I wrestle with myself not to look up. I can’t stand to think of what expression might be on her beautiful face right now.
“Matthew?” She places her hand lightly on my knee. “Do you really mean that? Do you think we’re on the right path?”
I don’t know how to answer that. I mean, how can I? The only thing we’ve admitted to each other is that we are fake dating. She is doing this as a favour to me. Come back to town, play in the games, and break up after Christmas. That’s it.
But I don’t want that to be it. I want more. I want to build more snow creatures with her. I want to try new things—maybe not tobogganing—but explore what I might be missing out on now that I see I’m closing myself off from what could be because of what has been.
“Matthew, answer me. Please.”
The pleading in her voice makes me finally look up. I’m not met with any of the emotions I was expecting. Instead, she looks…hopeful.
“Yes, Avery. I think I do.”
Then she rewards me with one of her face-splitting smiles. “Good, because I think that, too.” She holds my gaze for a moment before leaning in and placing a light kiss to my lips.
I no longer think I want what Avery and I have, I know it.
“I can’t believe they make everyone watch the candles getting snuffed out,” Avery whispers to me, making sure her voice is low enough for only me to hear this time.
“I think Cal’s watched a little too much reality TV if you ask me,” I whisper back, not able to take my eyes off the scene in front of us.
We made sure to stand well in the back this time, so that none of the town’s seniors would be able to hear us.
Even from back here, there’s no hiding the crying on one woman’s face as their lantern is put out with the oversized snuffer, or how the other two couples watch in a stunned silence as they lose their lights.
“Should we have a game plan for ours if we lose today?” The mischievous grin is back on her face. “We could be overdramatic. I could wail. Clutch my heart and cry out to the crowd about what a holiday injustice it is.”
I try to hold back a laugh, but it comes out as a snort, drawing confused looks from the people in front of us. With a final round of side eyes as I try to compose myself, they turn back around to watch the lanterns being carried down the steps.
“Maybe you should start demanding your illicit cookies back since they broke their end of the deal,” I add.
“Hmm, that might only work if the judges are the same today. Plus, I’m sure these hypothetical cookies are long gone. They would want to eat the evidence. Wouldn’t want to leave a cookie crumb trail.”
“No crumb left behind.”
“The GingerSnap sleuths would leave no sprinkle unturned.”
We stand there, blocking out the world, staring at each other with silly grins on our faces, but I can’t help it. I can’t remember the last time I was able to joke around with someone. Where the banter came so easily.
“Hey! It’s time to start heading over,” Trevor says, slapping a hand down on my shoulder. “The Gingerbread Express is ready to take you guys over.”
“The…what?” I ask, finally breaking away from Avery’s gaze.
“The Gingerbread Express,” he repeats, as if saying the name is going to make me understand any better. When I don’t reply, he rolls his eyes and motions with his head behind him.
There I find an extended golf cart decorated like a train. But not just any train. A literal gingerbread train.
Okay, maybe not literally. We don’t have the Hansel and Gretel of golf carts, but there are wooden boards cut and painted to make it look like a train made out of gingerbread, and the detail is, frankly, pretty impressive.
“That is one of the best things I’ve ever seen,” Avery exclaims beside me, clapping her gloved hands together. “And we get to ride it!?”
“You certainly do! We’re using this to bring everyone over to The Snowball Smackdown. Come on, we’re moving the contestants first.”
The word ‘contestant’ is like a bucket of snow being dumped on me.
I remember that we’re about to go into a snowball fight.
I haven’t been in one since elementary school.
I don’t want to admit it, but I don’t know if I even remember how to make a proper snowball.
What if it just falls right apart like a snow puff ball?
Before I can spiral into all the ways this can go horribly wrong, Avery takes me by the hand and leads me into the over-the-top golf cart.
Our ride to the hill is quiet. I clutch onto Avery’s hand as we whiz through town.
The other couples don’t speak. I don’t know them, and I’m inwardly grateful they don’t want to get to know us.
If the side glances and blatant dirty looks are any indication, the rumours on GingerSnap are spreading and people in town are believing them.
I don’t care what they say about me, but I do care how it impacts Avery.
And the way she’s squeezing my hand and looking out the side of the cart tells me the icy chill from the other couples hasn’t gone unnoticed.
“Hey,” I whisper, leaning in.
She slowly turns her head to face me wearing the saddest expression I’ve ever seen cross her face.
It breaks my heart.
“Hey.” She tries to smile, but it’s so weak anyone could have missed it if they weren’t looking.
I need to do something. She’s in this position because of me. If she wasn’t here to be my fake—sorta real?—girlfriend, she wouldn’t have rumours spread about her over the town’s app. She’d be away from whatever small town drama is happening here.
I make sure to keep my voice low, but loud enough to make the other couples think they’re overhearing. I just hope Avery picks up on it and plays along. “I was thinking that maybe we can take my dad up on his offer.”
Her eyebrows draw together and her nose scrunches. She looks so adorable I almost forget I’m supposed to be working up a distraction.
“Offer?” she asks. I only have to give her a slightly pointed look before her eyes widen and she lowers her voice. “That offer? But you were so against it.”
We both know there is no offer and I, at least, have no idea what this offer could be, but we will play along.
“It’s only fair, don’t you think?” I ask, calculating how much longer this ride is going to be.
“Hmm, maybe. Only if you think it’s the right thing to do. I trust you.”
I know we’re both talking about an offer that doesn’t exist, but I can’t help but want to believe that the last part is true.
“Here’s our stop! Gum Drop Hill!” Trevor exclaims, turning around in the driver’s seat. “Good luck and happy snowballing!”
We all exit the cart, the other couples chattering excitedly amongst themselves.
“Thank you,” Avery whispers once we are out of earshot.
“I don’t know if it will do anything but if there’s one thing that has stayed the same about this town, it’s their love for gossip.”
We reach the edge of the temporary course when I see all traces of sadness have evaporated from her.
“I trust you,” she echoes. It’s all she’s able to say before we’re thrust to fight for our Yuletide lives.
Forty minutes later, I’ve got my back up against a wooden cut out of a present, I’m freezing and wet from sitting in the snow, and I’m looking up at a giant cut out of a gingerbread man.
“I think his eyes are following us.”
“They’re hollow icing eyes. How are they following us?” Avery asks, slightly out of breath from running to this position.
“I don’t know, but I swear they are. Do you think it’s how everyone seems to know where we are?”
Even though I’m admittedly not the best at this game, I can’t figure out how everyone seems to know where we are at any given time. We’ve narrowly missed being knocked out multiple times, and it’s really only because of a miracle that we’re still in this.
“I don’t know.” She pops her head to the side, barely missing a snowball flying past her. “Ugh, they found us again.”
“This is getting old,” I huff, tilting my head back. “How many teams do you think are left?”
“Seven couples started, four remain,” she deadpans, looking over her shoulder before ducking quickly.
“Do you know you’re becoming more dramatic the more this Showdown goes on?” I joke.
“This is my house. I have to defend it.”
“Did you just quote Home Alone?” I raise my eyebrow, wondering what side of Avery this snowball fight is bringing out.
“This is a very serious competition, Matthew.”
“I’m beginning to understand that.”
“If there was ever a time to be dramatic, it would be now.”
I blink, staring at her blankly. “I can’t tell if you’re serious or not. Also, how do you seem to be one step ahead of them when they always know where we are?”
“Unagi,” she says, putting her two fingers to each temple and turning them slightly.
“Fish? I don’t get it.”
“Ross,” she says, dropping her hands and rolling her eyes. When I don’t say anything, because I’m thoroughly confused, she continues, “Friends.”
“Your friend Ross is helping us?”
“You can’t be serious. Ross Geller? The show Friends?”
“Never seen it.”
She gasps. “You get Home Alone but you don’t get Friends? Do you know how excited I was to share a last name with Ross and Monica? How the show utterly defined my sense of humour?”
“All because of a show?” Another snowball flies over our heads. “Maybe we ought to have this discussion at another time. When we aren’t being pelted with snowballs.”
“Fine,” she concedes. “But if you tell me you’ve never heard of Stars Hollow or the names Lorelai and Rory, I may throw a snowball at you myself.”
I have no idea what any of those names are, but I know enough to keep my mouth shut.