Chapter 16
16
Holly
December 24
Hudson Valley, New York
Holly wakes to the sound of Aiden downstairs in the cabin’s kitchen, whistling “Silver Bells” as pots and pans clatter. She stays in the loft bed for a moment, smiling up at the skylight as clouds float past in the winter-blue sky. They’ve been spending every possible moment together, mostly remaining in bed before finally going out for a walk in the twilight, then making dinner in the cabin. When they’d cuddled up by the woodstove together as night fell again, she told him she didn’t want him to leave—so he didn’t.
She puts on the first thing she finds—his red-checked flannel shirt—and climbs down the ladder.
“Good morning,” he says with a smile. He’s wearing nothing but bright red boxer shorts covered in prancing reindeer as he cooks. “Merry Christmas Eve, Holly.”
She rubs her eyes. “Wow, it is Christmas Eve already, isn’t it? I feel like we lost a day there.” She pulls a stool up to the breakfast bar, and he pours her a cup of coffee.
“Yeah. But it was one of the best lost days of my life.”
Her cheeks heat up as she thinks of how many times they made love, and how good it was, how perfect, every single time. “I’d get lost with you again and again,” she says.
“Hungry?”
“Starving.” He flips two over-easy eggs onto a plate, adds a piece of toast, and brings her the plate, kissing her as he gives it to her. She knows as she runs her hands over his smooth muscled chest and down toward the waistband of his boxers that if this kissing continues, she’ll gladly skip breakfast to go back to bed with him. But he’s got two more eggs in the pan sizzling behind him. He groans a little as he pulls away from her, finishes cooking, and pulls his stool close, kissing her nose as he pours out more coffee.
Once he starts to eat, he looks thoughtful, glancing at her from time to time but not saying anything.
“I’ve gotten used to the fact that silences with you aren’t awkward,” she says. “But you look pretty serious now. What’s on your mind?”
He laughs. “I like to think things over before I say them—but sometimes people see that as being a bit emotionally closed. And I swear I’m not.”
“By ‘people,’ are you talking about exes?”
A rueful smile. “Well, one ex,” he says.
“Care to elaborate?”
“I was dating someone all through MIT—her name was Toni—but she said I was a workaholic, so wrapped up in what I was doing professionally that I didn’t make any time for our relationship. So it ended. She wasn’t the right person for me, but I’d hate to repeat those mistakes in another relationship, so I did try to take some of the things she said to heart.”
“I can’t really picture you as a workaholic,” Holly says, swirling egg yolk around on her plate with a crust of toast. “You seem pretty relaxed out here, managing the eco-properties.”
“I don’t just manage them, I own them,” Aiden says. “I bought them with the proceeds from selling my company.”
Holly looks up at him, surprised. “ Your company?”
“It’s called Air Works.”
She nearly spits out the sip of coffee she’s just taken. “ Air Works! Aiden, that was your company? Wait, the AirClean Tower was your invention?”
He looks bashful now—but proud, too, she can tell. “You’ve heard of it?”
“I read about it in the newspaper. It turns smog particles into jewelry. It’s the most amazing invention for dealing with air pollution. You’re a genius. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t mention it because—well, I guess because it feels a bit like bragging. And because I don’t own it anymore. It’s not really a part of my life now.”
“But you thought of that technology.”
He looks down at his plate. “I did. When I was at MIT, I just became so disillusioned with the way so many of my classmates talked about working for huge corporations when they graduated, coming up with technology or ways of investing, formulas designed to make money, more and more of it for the people who didn’t need it. The smog tower was an idea I’d been toying with since high school—”
“I remember, you did a rudimentary form of it as a science fair project one year!”
“Yeah, but back then it didn’t work, so I lost to you. And Mr. Snuggles.” He smiles good-naturedly. “Anyway, I just decided to go for it. I found an investor, and when it actually worked this time, I ended up dropping out of MIT to work on it. I guess that’s when Toni started to get a little upset. We were on a certain trajectory together. We had a life plan.” Holly nods, because she knows exactly what this is like. “But I just…got off the train.” His expression is faraway. “And I loved it. I was so happy. I felt like I was doing what I was meant to be doing and making the world a better place at the same time—but I woke up one day, and Toni and I had broken up, and I hadn’t spoken to my family in months, except by text or voicemail—and my mom was having an important scan that week. I started thinking about how I would feel if she got sick again. And…I just decided to sell. I got a pretty good price on it, bought a few properties out here, and this is my life now.”
Holly stares at him, processing all he has just said to her and feeling a wave of pride in his accomplishments that she hopes he feels, too. “I think that’s brave. You thought up such a meaningful idea—but you knew when it was time to step away. I’m so impressed by you.”
His smile reminds her of the shy, smart high school boy she knew. They kiss again, and this time she knows their breakfasts will go unfinished. “Should we celebrate the fact that you think I’m a super genius by going back to bed?”
“I thought you’d never ask.” She hops off the stool, and he carries her across the room fireman-style while she laughs. At the bottom of the loft ladder, he pauses and sets her down.
“Wait. We never did talk about what I was thinking about back there, though.”
“Oh, right…”
“Would you like to join me and my family for Christmas dinner tomorrow?”
“Are you sure? I don’t want to impose.”
“I want you there, Holly. I want you to meet my family, too.”
She smiles. “Tell me about Christmas with your family in Krimbo.”
“First there’s a town parade, right at sunset every Christmas Day.” His blue eyes are alight with what she’s sure are years of happy Christmas memories. “My parents live on Main Street, so we set chairs up on the sidewalk and watch. My dad and grandpa cook a Christmas dinner with all the fixings. I act as sous chef, and my mom, Sidra, and Alexa—and this year, you—get to sit around drinking mulled wine and teasing us about all the dishes they’re going to have to do later.”
“While I do somewhat resent the fact that this social engagement means you’re going to have to put on some pants and not just reindeer boxers,” she says, tugging at his waistband, “that sounds like the perfect way to spend Christmas, Aiden. I’d love to. Now, can we go back to bed?”
They can’t get up the ladder fast enough.