Page 32 of Back Home For Christmas

“They must not know her secret ingredient,” I said.

“Love?” He asked.

“An unhinged need to win,” I said.

“Aww, just like you. How cute,” he said, ruffling my wet hair. I nudged him with my elbow. I had to find a way to get him to stop doing that.

“Oh look. More competition,” he pointed to the Christmas shop on the corner. I definitely didn’t want to go in there. Sometimes, sussing out the competition was helpful, other times it just made you feel defeated before you got started. Like my essay, that I definitely didn’t want to think about. But Jay was already walking in that direction with his long strides without any concern for my shorter legs or lack of proper footwear. Luckily, the overhang from the shops protected the sidewalk to some extent. The paved sidewalk, I noted with a smug superiority. No cobblestone here.

Inside felt marvelous as the warmth thawed my face. My appreciation was short-lived when I looked around. It was the shop of Jay’s dreams. No clutter, no tchotchkes, no tacky over the top displays. Everything highly curated and in its place.

“Well, you must be in heaven,” I said quietly, feeling the need to whisper like at a museum. This store had not been designed to touch or feel, it had been designed to herd shoppers through aisles to the cash register, purchases in hand. Maybe, in that regard, it was better than our store.

It was too late; the self-doubt came crashing down. I thought about my design for my table in the booth and how silly it probably was. I had settled on nostalgia. I had pulled out bins from Christmas’s well passed, with items that meant something to me, and represented a unique moment in time, bubble lights, tinsel, brightly colored garlands, a dancing Santa, all things that reminded me of my childhood, and some things that would remind my parents of theirs. To Jay and the people that set up this store, it would look cluttered and not aesthetic. To me, it felt magical, but maybe that didn’t matter.

I blinked hard. Why did I care so much about the booth? Or my parent’s store? I had spent the last four years desperate to get away. Now, I was practically crying at the thought of someone doing it better than me. I had to pull myself together. It didn’t matter if I did a shitty job on the booth. It didn’t matter if Jay “beat” me. I wanted Darren to succeed, but even that wasn’t really my problem, right? I took a deep breath after my little pep talk and saw Jay watching me.

“What?”

“It’s not so great,” he said.

“Oh please, this is everything you want in a Christmas shop,” I said.

“Your shop will always be my favorite,” he said.

“It’s not my shop.”

“Uh oh, don’t look now, Kitty Cat,” Jay said in an outraged voice. A million thoughts flew through my head. Was Aubrey somehow there, making out with someone else? I couldn’t come up with anything else that might scandalize me. “They copied you.” When I turned to see what he pointed to, I couldn’t help but laugh just a little. It was a basket full of knitted cozies.

I slapped my hand to my chest. “I’m gonna sue. Get me the best big shot, New York lawyer you know.”

“I’ll call him right away. I’m sure he will move this to the top of his case load,” Jay said. I noticed in that moment that we were both smiling like idiots. What the hell was happening to me? Jay had cheered me up? Did we slip into an alternate dimension?

“This place sucks. Let’s go.” He took me by the hand and pulled me out of the store back into the storm. I could just barely hear “Silent Night” playing across the street, where a band was set up underneath a pavilion with several heaters and open fires surrounded by a plastic enclosure. Little kids ran around and roasted marshmallows while the adults tried to stay warm. Without letting go of my hand, Jay pulled me across the snow-covered street where no cars were driving. It was significantly warmer inside the enclosure, and I felt almost like I was inside of a snow globe. Twinkling Christmas lights hung from the ceiling. The music warmed my soul. Children laughed as they played, and I felt like I could have lived in that feeling forever.

I didn’t even notice that Jay still held my hand until he pulled me again, deeper into the tent, closer to the band. By the time I realized what he was doing, it was too late. He put my hand on his shoulder, then wrapped a hand around my waist and started guiding me around the dance floor where two older couples moved around expertly.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Dancing.” He pulled me closer, so the front of my body pressed up against his and despite the thick coats and cold weather, my whole body felt warm.

“Why?” I asked.

“I am trying to be more like you. Spontaneous. In the moment.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but in truth, I didn’t want him to stop. It was the most fun I had in as long as I could remember. All we were doing was shuffling around the dance floor, but it was so strange and unusual that it crossed the line into memorable and unique. I didn’t care that he was Jay Crowley, high school bully. I just cared that I was there, listening to the brass band play “Silent Night” in that little tent, surrounded by life and joy. I rested my head on his chest, feeling the rhythm of his heartbeat as we glided over the floor. It occurred to me that I had never done anything like this before and although the rest of my life may have been a shit show, this one moment was kind of a highlight.

When the song stopped, my heart dipped just a little bit. “Thanks,” I said, looking up at Jay. “That was really nice.”

“Thank you for not murdering me in front of all these people,” he said.

“I wouldn’t even think about murdering you in front of all these people. Of course, I would do it privately.”

“That’s a relief,” he said. “Let’s get you food.”

We found a food truck just outside of the pavilion and ordered some hybrid taco, sub sandwich combo that could have only come from the culinary genius of a kitchen on wheels. I ate with abandon as the grease dripped from my fingers and down my lips. I probably ate it in five minutes flat.

“Remember when your mom told you that no boy would ever date you if you ate like that?” Jay asked with a snorting laugh.

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