Chapter 31
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
DANA
I peered out the window at the hundreds of people strolling the sidewalks lining Emily’s street. Cars crawled down the street at a snail’s pace. Even with the windows closed, we could still hear the sounds of excited voices and Christmas music blasting over speakers.
“Isn’t having thousands of people swarming past your house every day for a month incredibly inconvenient?” I asked Emily.
“Well, yes, but you get used to it,” Emily said as she pulled a sweater over her head.
“It’s worse on Friday nights and weekends.
And honestly, the joy the lights bring other people makes a bit of inconvenience worth it.
At least, that’s how we feel. There are a few people on the street who hate it.
” Emily tugged the sweater down. “I don’t know why people would buy here, or wouldn’t sell, if they feel like that. ”
Emily pulled her black puffer jacket over her sweater and zipped it up. Her brown wavy hair curled out from under a dark-green beanie. She looked like she’d just stepped out from a lead role in a holiday movie. I chuckled. That was exactly what she had done.
Emily stepped toward me and grasped my hand. “Are you sure you’re up to braving the crowds so you can see for yourself?”
I squeezed Emily’s hand. “Yes, I’ll be fine.”
I wasn’t dreading exploring the Christmas lights as much as I would have expected. In fact, after hearing Emily talk about them for the past five weeks, and hearing how they’d been an annual highlight of her life since she was a small child, I was interested to experience them for myself.
I kissed her on the lips softly, closing my eyes to savor it. Once we were out of her room, there’d be no more of that for a while. While Emily’s family knew she was queer, Emily hadn’t even wanted her parents to know about us.
Downstairs, we said goodbye to Emily’s parents, who were sitting in the living room reading next to the scrawny Christmas tree they’d rescued and lovingly decorated.
I smiled. At Red Tractor Farm, a tree in that condition would have been put aside to be used by Olivia for wreathes, and on many other farms, it may have been thrown away altogether.
But the Rossis had taken it in and decorated it as part of their family tradition.
I thought of my parents’ living room, with their fir tree in the corner, draped with tinsel and ornaments that my family had collected over the years.
The cardboard candy cane covered in dried pasta that I’d made in grade school and that was miraculously still intact.
The hand-painted ornament with Swiss chalets that Jake had purchased on his first and only overseas trip to Europe when he was twenty-one.
The set of mice dressed up in Santa hats that our grandmother had gifted us one Christmas.
So many memories. Perhaps I really should go home this year.
With Emily by my side, surely it would be bearable?
I’d arranged to speak to Mom briefly tomorrow morning. Perhaps I’d let her know then that I was considering coming back home for Christmas after all. Although, I should probably wait until I was sure, rather than get her hopes up for nothing.
As we stepped onto the front porch, I shielded my eyes from the bright Christmas lights adorning the house and lawn. As my eyes adjusted, I saw the crowds of people staring, phones pointed at us.
“Is this how celebrities feel stepping onto the red carpet?” I asked. “I know people are looking at the house, but still.”
Emily laughed. “I’m pretty sure they are looking at us too.
People are always fascinated by who lives in these houses.
Mom and Dad have been approached for multiple interviews about what it’s like to live here.
” Emily looked around. “But you do have a point. It is a little similar to an official movie premiere, with all the flashing lights, cameras and people staring at you. Come on, let’s get off the lawn before we ruin everyone’s photos. ”
We hurried down the steps and slipped into the crowd.
“Now, you haven’t seen our house at night yet, so I think the first thing we should do is admire our own handiwork.”
We turned and stared at Emily’s family home. It was excessive and gaudy, a mishmash of decorations with no cohesive theme. But I loved it.
“It looks pretty amazing,” I said, fighting the urge to wrap my arm around Emily’s waist as we stood there.
“You really think so?” Emily asked, an eyebrow arched.
I looked at the kids on their parents’ shoulders, squealing with excitement, and at the adults pointing, exclaiming and taking photos. It was bringing joy to so many people, making happy memories they could treasure for the rest of their lives. I smiled at Emily.
“Yes, I do.”
“Let’s head down this way.” Emily pointed as a light breeze ruffled her hair. “There are five streets that have lights, but 83rd and 84th are the best. Why don’t we walk down my street first and then we can see how we feel?”
“That sounds great,” I said, wincing as a woman elbowed my side. Ouch. The crowds might get a little overwhelming after a while.
Emily’s next-door neighbors’ display was a little less impressive. Christmas lights covered their fountain and Greco-Roman sculptures, and a few light-up reindeer grazed on their front lawn.
A small boy, only as high as Emily’s hip bone, ran into her from behind.
Emily jumped. Her face tense. “What the...?”
“I’m so sorry,” said the boy’s father, picking the child up.
Emily’s face relaxed into a smile. “No problem.”
“Are you okay?” I asked when they were out of earshot.
Emily ran her hand through her hair. “Yeah, I’m fine. I think I’m just a little on edge about Phillip and Austin. For a moment, I thought someone was trying to grope me.”
“I’m sorry, that must have been a shock.” I wished I could reach out and comfort her.
“I’m okay. But I really do need to make a decision about Phillip soon, partly so I don’t keep Rebecca hanging anymore and also so I can stop worrying about it.”
“It's a really tough decision. It’s not surprising you’re struggling. Are you leaning in any particular direction?” I asked as we started to walk again.
Emily grimaced. “At the moment, I think I’m leaning toward not getting involved yet.
Surely Rebecca can find someone else to go on the record if she keeps digging?
And then next year, once I’m clearer on where I stand and if I’ve got any more acting work, I might consider reassessing.
” Emily sighed. “But I don’t know. The idea of Phillip continuing to prey on women makes me sick to my stomach.
I don’t know if I can live with that. If I don’t speak out, am I complicit in the whole thing? ”
If we’d been alone I would have held her hand and given it a squeeze, but I made do with a sympathetic look instead.
“I understand why you feel like that, but ultimately it’s Phillip and the justice system who are responsible for holding him accountable and stopping him.
Phillip is responsible for his actions, not you, and it’s not your obligation to protect potential victims to the detriment of your own health or safety. ”
Emily lowered her voice. “But in order for him to be held accountable people need to speak up and go on the record. And, except for Cat, we’re all too terrified to do that.”
I paused until a woman videoing the light displays on her phone had moved on.
I didn’t want any of this conversation recorded.
“There is no ‘right’ choice here, but I think you should prioritize what’s best for you.
If speaking out would help you, by giving you closure or holding him accountable, then that’s completely understandable, but you don’t owe anyone your story and you shouldn’t feel pressured to speak out just because it might stop Phillip from doing this to other women.
” I’d done some research into the best way to support Emily in her decision, and the overwhelming consensus had been that Emily shouldn’t feel obligated to speak out to prevent future harm to others.
Emily bit her lip. “I definitely like the idea of Phillip being punished for his actions and it probably would help me move on. But what if I speak out, further damage my career and weather all the unpleasant media attention, only for nothing to happen to him? He might be able to use his influence to quash the article, defend the allegations on the basis there’s not enough evidence and it was too long ago.
And then, he’ll continue to prey on women while Cat and I have ruined our careers for nothing. ”
“That’s a legitimate concern. It’s always so hard making a decision where there are so many unknowns.
” I stopped to admire a magnolia tree, before continuing to stroll.
“It happens all the time in farming. You can’t accurately predict the weather, pests or supply and demand.
Sometimes I ask myself...if I turned out to be wrong, which option would I regret the least?
It could be a helpful way to frame it, if you haven’t already tried it? ”
“Yeah… That’s a good idea. Thank you.”
Emily looked so vulnerable, her brow still slightly furrowed.
How could I cheer her up? My eyes fell on a life-size Santa with a cheeky grin standing at the front of the lawn we were passing. “Hang on a second, I think he wants to tell me something.”
I ran over, tilting my head up so my ear was next to his lips. I raised my eyebrows, opened my mouth and brought my hand up to cover it.
From the sidewalk, Emily giggled.
“I’ve got to take a photo of this, and then you need to tell me what he said.”
After Emily had captured the moment, I rejoined her.
“He said I wasn’t getting any Christmas presents this year, because he couldn’t give me anything that could come close to you.”
My face heated. Had I just come on too strong?
Emily laughed. “Aw, how sweet.”
A couple speaking Spanish walked past. An arm hung out of the window of a large black car crawling past, holding out a phone to capture the scene.
Then two women strolled by hand in hand.
My eyes locked on them. A small child sat on one of the women’s shoulders, pointing at the lights, their eyes wide with excitement.
The other woman had a sleeping baby in a carrier strapped to her front.
An ache bloomed in my chest. Would I ever have that?
We kept walking. At the next house, visitors posed for photos next to a huge animatronic Santa. Behind him a merry?go?round with horses moved up and down, holding Christmas elves with Santa hats perched on top.
“Oh my god, look at the eyes on that Santa.” Emily pointed at the red glowing eyes. “That’s new this year.”
I shuddered. “That is the stuff of nightmares. I’m definitely not taking any messages from that one. I feel like he’d say something deeply disturbing.”
Emily laughed.
“You can tell the professionally decorated ones,” she said as we stopped in front of a house with nutcrackers lined up on each side, a wooden Nativity scene taking the place of honor in the middle of the lawn.
Angels blowing trumpets surrounded it in a semi-circle.
Mechanical carolers singing “O Come All Ye Faithful” lined the path.
To my surprise, I wasn’t finding the Christmas music as painful as usual, even as it clashed with “Deck the Halls” being blasted over the neighboring house’s speakers.
“They’re always a lot more orderly, usually symmetrical and stick to a few themed colors.
I may be biased since we don’t use professional decorators, but I like the more chaotic, more?is?more style of the DIYers. ”
She beamed as we stopped in front of the next house. Every inch of the lawn was covered by inflatable cartoon and superhero figures, most of them seven feet tall.
“See, like this one. It’s ridiculous. It’s not even particularly Christmassy, but it has a certain charm, don’t you think?”
I chuckled. “I think it may be my favorite, in fact—apart from yours, of course.”
We reached the next house, where a Santa clung from the roof with one hand.
I gazed at Emily. “You know what? They should do a sequel: Return to the Christmas Tree Farm. Have Austin’s character die—maybe he could be crushed by a falling tree or a tractor—and your character could find love again.” Ideally with an actor or actress who wasn’t a creep.
Emily laughed. “They don’t usually kill off the love interest in romance movies. Unfortunately, I don’t think that idea has legs.”
“Good point.” I brought my hand to my chin in an exaggerated thinking pose. “Do they do cozy mysteries too? They could have your character turn into an amateur detective, and Austin could be dropped from the movie altogether—just mentioned in passing. That would be even better.”
Emily grinned. “As you may be able to guess from their name, HolLove specializes in romance. I don’t think they’ll jump at cozy mystery series.”
I laughed. “Well, I might pitch it to Charles tomorrow anyway, see what he says.”
Emily turned to me, her face glowing with her gorgeous smile, and the urge to lean over and kiss her almost overwhelmed me. Was she leaning in slightly? Perhaps she felt the same way. My chest squeezed tight as I held strong, letting my hand briefly graze hers as an unsatisfying substitute.
It was probably for the best that there was an end date on Emily’s stay in Sapphire Springs. Not being able to be ourselves in public, not being able to share our relationship with people close to us...I didn’t want to live my life like that.
But now, I couldn’t imagine life without her.