Page 133 of How My Neighbour Stole Christmas
“Makes me love Atlas even more.”
I raise a brow at her. “You love him?”
She rolls her eyes. “Not like that. But I’m glad he was there for you. Was Aunt Cindy ever helpful?”
“Yes,” I reply. “She had me over for dinner once a month. It was only once a month because it’s all I would allow. I think if she’d had it her way, she would have done once a week. But those dinners fizzled out once the feeling inside of me started to return again. It’s why I always helped her with her lights, why I shovel for her—”
“You shovel for her?”
I nod. “Yeah. I want to make sure she’s safe. I know it’s not easy for her to shovel, so I just do it when I do mine. It’s not a big deal.”
“I thought she’d hired a service. She never said that it was you,” Storee says, looking confused.
“Probably because I was adamant about her not talking to you about me.”
“Yeah, I guess she kept that promise,” she says, her lips twisted to the side. “I wish she hadn’t, though.”
“It’s fine,” I say.
She takes my hand in hers and entwines our fingers. She then presses a soft kiss to my knuckles.
“What do you want me to help you with, Cole? I’m here to help you with anything you need. Anything you want.”
I glance around the room, taking in the emptiness of it all. My mom would hate it looking like this, especially now. She would be upset with me, with how I’ve blocked out the season, how I’ve set it aside when, as a family, it was the time of year that brought us that much closer.
The joy.
The traditions.
The togetherness.
On a whim, I ask, “Will you help me decorate for Christmas?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Storee
For someone who hated Christmas, and hated Christmas a lot,
his strict position on the holiday he conveniently forgot.
Stockings, baubles, bright garlands, and cheer.
Wreaths, bells, and even cranberry beer.
And they’re hanging it all, while their pulses are thrumming.
Because surely tonight, without doubt, they’ll be coming…
Cole’s quietly unwrapping some dishesby the tree while I open a plastic bin markedChristmas Linens. We’ve spent the evening bringing up Christmas decorations from the basement, starting with the tree stand, then setting up the tree. Afterwards, Cole wrapped his arm around me and stared at it for a few minutes.
I asked him if it was okay to turn on some music, and he of course said it was fine. I set the tone with one of my favorite Spotify Christmas playlists. We then wrapped garland around the tree, decorating it while he toldme about the different ornaments. How there are misfit ornaments—broken pieces, missing elements—that his dad always hated but that his mom loved, so they would spend the whole season moving them around on the tree, from the front to the back. They divided them up and put half in the front, half in the back for each of them, even though Cole was always on his mom’s side.
The look on his face when he was hanging them nearly made me cry. I could see the love but also the heartache at the same time.
Then I helped him with the star on the top, and when we plugged everything in, well, it was a beautiful sight. After that, we ordered pizza and ate it while staring up at the tree. Now, we’re trying to decorate the rest of the living room. Cole didn’t want to go overboard—he said the living room was fine—but I did tell him he should pull out some of his mom’s holiday dishes so he could enjoy eating off them leading up to Christmas. He thought that was a good idea, kissed me on the forehead, and then went to the basement to find the bin.
When Taran told me earlier today that she needed to take Aunt Cindy to Golden and that it was going to be an overnight trip, my immediate thought washow can I spend the time that they’re gone with Cole?
