Chapter 21 Lindsey
LINDSEY
“MJ, your tree is gorgeous,” Oliver says, touching one of the shiny gold ornaments adorning the seven-foot faux spruce. My siblings have already gone home, and I’m standing in the living room with Oliver, June Bug, and Ron as they prepare to leave. “Actually, your whole house looks amazing.”
“Isn’t it beautiful?” I say. He’s right.
Sometimes, it’s easy to take the magic of the home I grew up in for granted because I’ve seen my mother’s holiday decorations every Christmas of my life.
Her collection has grown over the years, but she’s always maintained the perfect balance of cozy and simple elegance.
Lit garland rests atop the mantle where the stockings Mom knitted for us hang. Slender, flocked trees and glowing vines are placed throughout the house, and the banister leading up the stairs is swathed in greenery.
“Thank you, Oliver.” Mom beams.
“When we were kids,” I begin, “she and Dad used to decorate the outside with so many colorful lights. It looked like a gingerbread house.”
“We loved the look on your faces every year when we plugged them in for the first time. Gosh, I haven’t seen the house like that in ages.
It got to be too much for your father to climb up that rickety old ladder as we got older.
” Mom’s smile turns nostalgic, and her eyes shine as she rubs a strand of my hair between her fingers.
“We had some good times, didn’t we, kid? ”
“Yeah, we did,” I say.
“Anyway.” Mom sighs. “I’m so glad you both could come.” June Bug wags her little tail at the sound of my mom’s voice, and she kisses the pup on the nose. “You too, you precious thing. And I suppose, I’ll see you both tomorrow night.”
“I don’t know who’s looking forward to it more,” Ron says, gesturing at June Bug. “Me or her.”
“Are you sure I can’t just drive myself?” Mom asks. “I hate for you to have to get out and—”
“I insist,” Ron says, cutting her off.
“Okay, then,” Mom says. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Thank you again, MJ.” Oliver gives my mom a hug. “Dinner was delicious.”
“Anytime, hon,” Mom says. “Y’all drive safely.”
I step out onto the front stoop, the chilly night air stinging my cheeks, and Ron continues on to Oliver’s truck with June Bug in tow.
“Good night, Ron,” I say, and he throws a wave over his shoulder.
“So,” Oliver says. “Tomorrow night, I’m meeting some guys from the fire hall for dinner and Monday night football at Snappy’s Pizza. A couple of them are bringing their significant others, and I was wondering if maybe you’d want to come?”
I know what I should say. That as much as I want to spend time with him, I really need to stay home and rest. My fibromyalgia hasn’t let up since yesterday, likely a result of too much cold exposure and simply pushing my body to the limits recently.
But I don’t want to tell Oliver that. He doesn’t need to be worried about me, and I certainly don’t want him thinking I’m making an excuse not to see him.
“Yeah, that would be fun,” I answer finally. “I can meet you there after work.”
“Perfect.” He brushes my cheek with his thumb and presses his lips to mine. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“Good night.”
I watch as he walks away, somehow managing to hold in my squeals of excitement until he’s tucked safely inside his truck.
Nerves roll around in my stomach like dice. Oliver easily became a part of my world, but now, I was going to find out what it was like to be a part of his.
I change clothes and am about to leave the clinic when Kayla pokes her head into my office a little after six thirty p.m. Lucy’s already gone for the day, but we stayed behind to get everything prepared for the next day.
“Oliver’s here,” she says with an apprehensive smile on her face.
“Huh?” I glance down at my phone, and there are no missed texts or calls. “I thought I was meeting him at Snappy’s.”
She shrugs. “I dunno. He’s up front.”
“Maybe I misunderstood,” I say, grabbing my coat and purse, but she stops me at the door.
“Are you sure you’re okay to go tonight? You know I’m all about this thing with you and Oliver, but you’ve felt like garbage all day.”
“I’m fine,” I insist, though that isn’t exactly true.
I’m so exhausted that I fell asleep at my desk during lunch and had to rinse mustard out of my hair.
My body aches all over like I have the flu.
Except I know it isn’t and there’s no amount of time or medication to rid me of this feeling once and for all.
“Okay, but did you at least take your muscle relaxers?” she asks.
My silence is her answer.
“Lindsey,” she hisses. “Seriously?”
I hold up my hands. “Fine. I’ll take them.” I dig in my purse for the tiny pill container I keep stashed inside and grab one.
She grabs my trusty water bottle from my desk and hands it to me so I can gulp down the medicine.
“You have got to start taking better care of yourself,” she says with an accusatory glare.
“I’m fine,” I lie again because it’s easier than admitting she’s right.
“Uh-huh.”
“Well, I’m committed to faking it until I make it, okay?” I say, pushing past her and out into the lobby where Oliver is waiting.
“Hey you,” he says with a smile.
I give him a peck on the cheek. “Everything okay? I thought I was meeting you.”
He smiles. “Yeah. Actually, I was hoping I could catch you before you left so we could ride together. There’s somewhere we need to stop on the way there.”
“Oh, okay. Sure.” I push my arms through the sleeves of my coat. “Kayla, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Y’all have fun,” she says with one last stern glance in my direction that adds a silent But not too much fun.
“See ya later, Kayla,” Oliver says as we step out into the cold.
“So, where are we going?” I ask as we stroll toward his truck hand in hand.
“It’s a surprise,” he says, his eyes glittering in the glow of the lamplight overlooking the parking lot.
“Hmm.” I raise my brows at him. “I’m intrigued. Can you give me a hint?”
“Nope. But I think you’re gonna like it.”
Once inside his truck, we set off in pursuit of our mystery destination, but the path quickly becomes familiar.
“Wait…where are we going?” I ask as he turns onto the street I know like the back of my hand. The closer we get to my childhood home, the more confused I become.
“Wait…” I trail off. “Are we going back to my mom’s?”
He grins over at me. “Yes, we are.”
We roll to a stop in front of my mother’s house. It’s completely dark except for the porch light illuminating the front stoop.
“She’s not here,” I say. “I’m pretty sure Ron picked her up a while ago.”
“He did. We’re not here to see her, though.” He unbuckles his seat belt and opens his door. “C’mon. I have something to show you.”
“Okaaaay,” I say, stretching out the word as I join him in the driveway. “What’s this all about?”
“You’ll see.” With his hands on my shoulders, he leads me to the center of the yard. “Wait here. I’ll be right back.”
“What in the world?” I chuckle as he jogs up the walk and onto the porch. “Oliver, what is going o—”
I’m silenced by the buzz of thousands of lights coming on, their glow so bright I have to shield my face for a few seconds to allow my eyes to adjust. Oliver is back at my side by the time the spots in my vision fade to reveal the perfect gingerbread house.
“Oh my God.” I cover my mouth with my hands as tears spring to my eyes. “How? When?”
“I had a little help,” he says. “I knew Ron was picking your Mom up at five, so I asked a few of my buddies at the fire hall to pitch in. You’d be surprised how many Christmas lights six guys can put up when they have access to the ladder on a fire truck.”
I shake my head in disbelief, speechless. It reminds me so much of the way my parents decorated the house when I was a kid that my heart aches. It’s the perfect blend of past and present.
“Do you like it?” he asks.
Tears stream down my face, making the lights look as though they’re in soft focus.
“Oliver, this is…” I trail off because no words seem big enough to describe how much this means to me.
“This is the best gift anyone has ever given me. And Mom…She’s going to love it.
” I fold my arms around him, and he holds me close.
For a moment, I just stare at the house that built me, the home that held my family through better and worse.
“After hearing you and your mom talk about the way your dad used to decorate the house, I wanted to try and give you some of that magic again.”
I rise on my toes to kiss him softly.
“You did,” I whisper. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he says, hooking an arm over my shoulders. “Come on. Let’s get you out of the cold and go get some pizza.”
We walk arm in arm back to the truck, the lights of memories past guiding the way.