Page 134 of How My Neighbour Stole Christmas
Even though Taran asked me to hang some lights.
Even though she told me I should be working on my sewing skills for when I have to make a stocking—I pushed that all to the side, because yes, it’s important I represent Aunt Cindy, but helping Cole, being there for him, I think that’s so much more important.
And after last night, when he opened up, I felt like spending more time with him was essential…so he wouldn’t be alone. My heart was still breaking for the eighteen-year-old boy who lost his parents on the cusp of becoming a man. He never deserved to be considered grumpy.
And I had some selfish motivations too. I was with him becauseIwanted to be with him.
“Do you want me to set out any of these linens?” I ask as I sift through doilies and table runners.
“There’s one in particular that my mom would put on the coffee table,” he says as he unwraps a green candy dish and smiles down at it.
This coming from the man who wasn’t into anything Christmas…a candy dish is making him smile.
“What does it look like?”
He walks over to me and helps look through the linens. “It was red and had reindeer along the border, sort of looks like—ah, here it is.” He hands me the candy dish, and I hold it as he pulls out the runner. “Looks like a Christmas sweater.”
“Oh, yeah.”
I take in the red-and-white runner that is the perfect size for a coffee table. With cross-stitched images of holly leaves, trees, and reindeer, it really does look like it belongs on a Christmas sweater.
“I love it,” I say as he closes up the linens bin and then carefully sets the runner on the coffee table. “Wait, wasn’t the tree skirt in there as well?”
“Shit, you’re right.” He checks through the bin again, and I set the candy dish on the coffee table.
“You need some peppermints for your candy dish, those puffy pastel ones.”
“Those are so good—they’d be gone in a day.”
He pulls out a quilted tree skirt made of vintage fabric in shades of red, green, and white. Tiny candy canes, toy trains, presents, and Santas are strewn across the fabric, and it’s truly the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen.
It reminds me of something Aunt Cindy would have.
All of his Christmas decorations do, which just makes me feel more at home, more in the spirit.
“I’m so stupid,” I say, surprising him.
He turns to eye me. “Uh, care to explain that comment? Because I don’t agree.”
“I should have come back way sooner, not just because of you but because of the joy I get during this time. I was so bitter, so upset with what happened with Mrs. Fiskers and how I was treated after, that I shut down and I spent my Christmases away from the one true thing that brought me joy during this season. And going through these decorations with you, helping with the tree, it’s just a reminder of everything I’ve been missing out on.”
His expression softens as he comes up to me and pulls me into his chest. I wrap my arms around his waist and press my cheek against the soft fabric of his shirt.
“I know what you mean. Going through all of this, I thought it would hurt more. I thought that it would be far too painful, but I don’t know, it just makes me feel closer to them. Like I’m honoring them by putting out these decorations and letting my memories fly.”
“You are honoring them for sure,” I say, giving him a squeeze before letting go. “Okay, is this all you wanted to do?”
“It is,” he says. “I’ll stack this box with the rest of the ones by the stairs, and I can take them down tomorrow.”
“Are you sure?” I ask. “I can help you.”
He shakes his head. “No, that’s okay, I’d rather spend time with you. Plus…I have dessert.”
“You have dessert?” I ask, surprised.
“Yup. I got it earlier today in the hopes of luring you outside to sit on the porch with me, but since you’re already here, we can have it in front of the fireplace.”
“You wouldn’t have to lure me here with dessert,” I say as he carries the last bin over to the stairs.
