Chapter Twenty-Five
They had two and a half hours to decorate the gingerbread house.
It was not enough time but, as Ali looked around the room, it wasn’t enough time for any of the teams. JT had fallen into the role of her assistant, which involved finding the roundest candies or breaking them into smaller pieces or hunting down something that could pass for snow in the many, many jars on the shelves set up for them to browse.
Turned out coconut flakes worked pretty well.
Ali focused on getting everything to look as good as possible in the short time they had, but JT’s anxiousness and insecurity came back to her at random intervals.
It was a side of her Ali hadn’t seen before.
She’d been accustomed to the brash, slightly cocky persona JT usually wore.
She had no idea how much her family messed with her head.
“Contestants! Please pause your decorating!” A voice broke through the murmuring among the teams. “We want to let you know you have thirty minutes left to decorate and we are adding a task!”
The crowd cheered. Sadistic bastards.
“We will be handing out sheets of gingerbread to each team and we would like you all to make a second structure in the time you have remaining.”
JT groaned next to Ali.
“We don’t expect perfection. We know this is a bit mean, but frankly, it’s too much fun not to ask you to do something wacky.” They spent another few seconds explaining the rules before releasing them to continue.
“This is why I don’t come home,” JT muttered under her breath.
“Auxiliary gingerbread structures are what keeps you from visiting?” Ali asked, unable to finish the sentence without laughing.
JT caught the giggles and shook with the effort of controlling her laughter. “I’ll have you know that it was the great gingerbread building catastrophe of ’08 that first made me want to leave here forever.”
Now Ali couldn’t help her case of the giggles. “You’re going to have to build it. I’ve still got about a billion shingles to add, and I don’t get the sense you want to take over.”
JT shook her head. “I don’t want to do either.” A volunteer walked to their table and dropped off a stack of gingerbread. “Thanks,” JT said, eyeing it suspiciously.
“It’s not going to bite you. Just make a little house or something and then decorate it. We don’t have much time.”
JT sighed. “Fine. But this all seems very unfair.” She took two pieces and leaned them against each other in a tiny triangle.
“A house, JT, a house.”
“It’s an A-frame, Alexandra.”
Ali looked shocked.
“What?” JT said, her face all scrunched and grumpy.
“You called me Alexandra.”
“So? It’s your name.”
Ali smiled, her heart warm in her chest. “Yes, but most people assume it’s Alison. You got it right.”
“Ali, I may be a big dumb hockey player, but I’ve known your brother and you my entire life. If I couldn’t remember your name, it would be embarrassing.”
Ali nodded and focused on the Smarties she was using to shingle the house.
Kyle had called her Alison once when they’d been arguing.
He hadn’t remembered her real name. After a decade together, he’d called her Alison.
But here was JT, her brother’s best friend, remembering the name she rarely used. How many times had she even heard it?
JT had all this warmth and kindness and kept acting like it was nothing, like everyone did what she did.
Maybe JT expected too much from people, but Ali wanted to live in that world where no one, especially not your husband, called you the wrong name.
She liked JT’s world where people weren’t just nice but were genuinely kind.
She focused on the Smarties and the frosting that held them in place while her brain did cartwheels and shot off fireworks about what a lovely person she’d found in JT.
JT, meanwhile, struggled with the new gingerbread task.
She’d succeeded in getting two pieces to form a tent-like structure, but Ali was skeptical it was what the judges had in mind.
JT’s face was twisted with concentration.
She bit her lower lip and the crease between her eyebrows was impressively deep.
“How’s it going?”
JT grunted. “In terms of what? It’s standing, so that’s good.
But it looks worse than the lean-to I made with Jonny in the woods when we were younger.
At least then I had the excuse of being five.
” She stepped back from the table and wiped her frosting covered hands on a cloth.
“There’s no excuse for this.” She looked at Ali. “Sorry your partner sucks.”
Ali shook her head. “You don’t suck. Your A-frame looks amazing. Do you want to add some decoration? Maybe you could make it look like we made a cute little house for Toby?”
The mention of her puppy snapped JT back into focus. “Definitely. I can do that.” She grabbed a piping bag and scoured the table for the right candies to decorate. “No chocolate, obviously, because dogs can’t eat it.”
“Obviously,” Ali said, trying not to laugh. JT’s serious face was too cute.
Ten minutes passed and then the announcers had the whole crowd count down. Ali and JT set their tools and supplies down. Ali hugged JT, letting her head find JT’s shoulder.
“You did great,” Ali whispered into her ear.
JT hugged her but Ali could feel that she was keeping her hands away from her back. “I’m all sticky. Don’t want to ruin your sweater,” JT said, looking down.
Ali stepped back. “Let’s get cleaned up so you can hug me properly when we win.”
JT laughed. “Do you need your glasses? That shit is a train wreck. There’s no way we’re winning, but I can take a hint. I’ll get cleaned up.”