Chapter 28
Chapter Twenty-Eight
AVERY
Being able to get off my feet and sip on a cup of hot apple cider is the best feeling in the world right now.
My feet throb, my back aches, and my shoulders are stiff, but my heart is full. All of the deliveries went off without a hitch, and all the families have been blessed with their Christmases. Seeing all the joyful faces made every ache and pain worth it.
Now, we’re all back at the warehouse having our own little Christmas party before we disperse back to our families for our own ‘elfernation’ or ‘elf hibernation’ until mid-January.
But for now, ‘Jingle Bells’ plays over a speaker, and everyone chats and gushes about their day as we all unwind from our hectic holiday season.
“Here, you need to eat something,” Matthew says, sliding a slice of pizza onto the table in front of me. He takes a seat next to me, careful not to knock my feet that rest on an empty chair, as he takes a bite of his own slice.
“Did you know ‘Jingle Bells’ was the first Christmas song ever played in space?”
He holds his slice of pizza over his plate, letting it hover as he’s about to take a bite. “I, uh, didn’t know that.”
“Yup, the Gemini 6A flight in 1965. It’s in the Guinness World Records and everything.”
“And how do you know this, exactly?” He places his slice back on his plate, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest. He ditched his elf hat as soon as we made our last delivery, not even making it back to the truck before he tore it off and shoved it in his pocket, but I didn’t miss the way his eyes lit—and even teared—up when a child opened a present, or how his smiles came more freely the more the day went on.
But now he seems to have lost a little of his wonder.
I hope it’s just from exhaustion and not from already forgetting what the magic of Christmas truly is.
“Unagi, remember,” I joke. I’m too tired to raise my fingers to my temple, but it doesn’t stop me from laughing at my own joke.
“I still don’t get it.”
“We still need to watch Friends.”
“That we do.”
Our eyes link and the joyful feeling in my chest increases. If the only thing I do for Christmases going forward is deliver baskets and boxes to families and end the day with Matthew, it would be more than I could ever ask for.
“Tell me, do you think we could, uh, start watching that after Christmas? Maybe you even move on to that Moon Hollow show?”
“Stars Hollow?” I laugh. “I will never turn down an opportunity to watch Gilmore Girls. Ever.”
“And maybe, we could get dinners together, too.” He looks down as he takes my hand, linking his fingers with mine.
“I think we could arrange that.” My pulse skitters as I answer.
I’m hopeful as to where this conversation is going. I hope it means that come tomorrow, our relationship isn’t over. That we don’t have to pretend that we have feelings for each other, because we both have very real feelings.
His thumb brushes over the back of my hand. Back and forth. Back and forth. The steady thrum of his movement acts like a metronome for my beating heart.
“I guess there’s just the matter of where we live…”
I suck in a breath, taking back my hand from his and lowering my feet to the ground. “We don’t have to talk about this now…”
“But I want to. I don’t want it to be this—thing between us. There has to be a way that we both continue to do what we love while being together; I believe there’s a way. I have to.”
The sincerity in his voice makes me a little less focused on running from this conversation.
“When are you heading back?” I pick at the crust of my pizza, the smell of it mixes with the apple cider I drank turning my stomach.
“I haven’t set a date yet.” He uncrosses his arms and leans forward. “I promised my mom I’d stay through Christmas, but I haven’t agreed to anything beyond that.
“And your company?”
“Closed until the new year after today.”
My eyes lock with his. “So, you don’t have to go back for a week and a half?”
“Nope.”
“And I have about three weeks off…”
“Yup.”
We both let our words hang between us for a moment. “We could get through a lot of Friends and Gilmore Girls in that time. Maybe even some Golden Girls. Really make sure you get my references.”
“How do you remember these, anyways?”
“I mean, I’m not one to blow my own vertubenflugen…”
“You’re…what?”
“Rose?” When he still has a confused look on my face, I continue. “Golden Girls.”
“I feel like I’m going to need to take notes when watching these.”
“Would it make you feel better if I quoted Star Wars? Marvel? I’ll do Die Hard, but it’s still not a Christmas movie.”
“Not really. I can’t say it would.”
“With great power, comes great responsibility…”
“Please stop.” He takes his glasses off and rubs his eyes, earning a chuckle from me.
“I can do this all day…”
“Avery,” he sighs.
I bite my lip, stifling a laugh. “Fine, even though it pains me.”
“I think you’ll live,” he huffs, placing his glasses back on.
We settle into a comfortable silence, listening while Frank Sinatra croons about having a merry little Christmas.
I watch as everyone starts to say their goodbyes, ready to brave the snow that’s picking up so they can be with their loved ones.
They’ve earned it. They deserve to be able to go home to their families after spreading so much joy to others.
“Let me help you clean up so you can get out of here,” he says, looking across the room.
“It’s okay, there’s not much to do.”
“Avery, please let me help you,” he pleads.
“I’m being a little selfish, too. I know you must be exhausted and have plans with your family, but I’m hoping you can come back to Gingerbread Grove with me for a little bit.
Now that we are officially not fake, I would like you to experience Christmas Eve in the Grove. ”
“‘In the Grove,’ hmm? You sound like a true Gingerbreadian,” I joke.
“You know what I mean.” He glances at me, his cheeks reddening.
“Turns out that I actually don’t have plans with my family until tomorrow morning. They usually let me go home and rest after the deliveries.”
“If you’re too tired…” he starts, but I cut him off by placing my hand on his.
“I’d love nothing more than to see what ‘the Grove’ has planned for Christmas Eve.”
“It’ll mean we see our lanterns being snuffed out.”
I laugh. “I think I can handle that.”
“They’ll carry it down the gazebo steps.”
“As the ceremony dictates…”
“We’ll be placed alongside all the other failed Yuletide Games contestants and have to watch as McKenzie and Cal take their awards.”
“It’s fine. There’s no crying in baseball.”
“Baseball? You mean the snowball fight.”
I sigh. “Add A League of Their Own to the watch list. I’m going to need to start making an actual list.”
He stands, holding out a hand to me. I place my hand in his, letting him help me up. “I don’t think you’d be able to keep up with all the movies you need me to watch.”
“No, probably not. We’d need more than a week and a half.”
“More than three weeks,” he adds.
He takes a step closer to me, our breaths mixing as we look into each other’s eyes.
“Do you think a lifetime would do?” he whispers.
I suck in a breath. “I don’t know. There’s a lot of TV shows and movies to catch up on.”
“It might be…inconceivable.” He winks and walks away, leaving me stunned.
“Did you just quote The Princess Bride?” When he doesn’t turn around, I chase after him. “You did! You know more than you’re letting on!”
“This is a lot less…heartbreaking than I thought it’d be,” I whisper as we stand up on the gazebo, watching as our lantern candle gets extinguished by the unusually long snuffer.
“What do you think would happen if Cal and McKenzie had been knocked out? Would he use that thing on his own lantern?” Matthew whispers back.
“I think he’d have to. I mean, who else would want to be seen holding that thing?”
“Do you mind?” Cal asks loudly, giving us both a very pointed look. “This is a very solemn moment. It deserves respect.”
“Sorry, of course,” I say, biting my lip and nodding my head.
“You’re absolutely right,” Matthew adds, and I have no idea how he does it with a straight face.
“Matthew and Avery. The games have spoken. You’ve been eliminated from the Yuletide Games.”
“The Games have spoken?” I whisper.
Matthew chuckles but turns it into a cough when Cal looks our way. He reaches up and covers his mouth with a fist. “Sorry, I must have sucked in some of that candle smoke.”
Cal gives us one final look before moving on to the next couple, going through the same motions, except they look a lot more forlorn that we do. Maybe we should have played up the sadness a bit more.
But now that I know that Matthew has real feelings for me, just like I do for him, I no longer care about the games. Everything I want for Christmas has come true, and nothing to do with these games could have made it any better.
Looking up at Matthew and seeing how lighthearted he seems right now; I think about how much of a contrast that is from when we first arrived in Gingerbread Grove.
In less than a week, I can feel that some of the hurt from the town has been healed.
Maybe he’s even been able to get past a little of the hurt he’s experienced from his parents.
I’m not so disillusioned to think that it’ll all be forgiven in such a short period of time, but I’d like to think this was a start.
“Remember, just because you didn’t win the games, doesn’t mean that you don’t win at love,” Cal states, standing beside me and addressing the crowd, sounding like an actor from the 1940s.
I press my nails into my palm, thankful I can still feel the pressure through my gloved hands. It’s the perfect distraction to stop myself from laughing.
He continues with his speech, but my attention is drawn to the crowd as they all look down at their phones in waves, murmuring to each other while looking up at us.
“What do you think is going on?” I whisper.
“No idea,” Matthew whispers back, looking just as stunned as I am.
“Now, now, everyone. I’m sure whatever it is that has captured all of your attentions can wait just a moment. We’re just about ready to crown the winners of the Yuletide Games.”
“He’s acting like it’s some big surprise,” I whisper.
Matthew opens his mouth to retort, but a shout from the crowd stops him.
“You’re not really dating?”
“What is she, an actress?” Someone else yells.
“Is this a joke? Like a yuletide prank?” shouts another voice.
Matthew and I look at each other when we realize the questions are being aimed at us.
“Matthew, how could you?”
“We accepted you as a Gingerbreadian, Avery!”
“We even let you on GingerSnap!”
The app! It has to have something to do with that.
Pulling out my phone, I see a notification for a new post on GingerSnap.
“What is it?” Matthew stands over my shoulder, watching my screen.
“InsiderCookie57,” I groan. “There’s another post.”
My eyes scan the words, but I can barely read them. After the first line, there isn’t much else I need to know to find out what everyone’s gossiping about.
‘MATTHEW AND AVERY’S RELATIONSHIP CONFIRMED AS FAKE.’