Page 59 of When in December

“More like thousands of dollars strictly for the holiday, dedicated to one-of-a-kind chandeliers and hand-blown Venetian glass ornaments.”

Aaron let out a low whistle.

“You know, to give it that special kind of cozy touch,” I said, even though I would just about die to be put in the position Alison was in. I looked around the cabin. “I know I can make this place look amazing. Not in the same way, of course, but it could be the best place I’ve put together so far.”

Aaron must’ve seen what I did. There was a long way to go—from the painting to the furniture that needed to be broughtin to fill all the rooms. Then the most important part of all. Decorating. For the home. For the holiday.

All of it.

And we were already so far behind.

“I’m also making sure that I plan your holiday perfectly. That’s why I’m here. The event. The days before and day of Christmas. Everything will be perfect by the time I’m done.” I tried to maintain positivity, but I was beginning to think I’d misplaced it during the blood loss earlier.

“Will your boss see it to decide?”

Would Michelle notice all I work I’d put in for the family on Christmas Day alongside the big picture of the cabin itself? I wasn’t sure.

“Sarah has two children, right?” I asked.

Aaron nodded. “Why?”

“I was thinking everyone could make gingerbread houses in the kitchen one evening.”

“Gingerbread houses? You never turn that planning brain of yours off, do you?” he asked.

“It’s a classic,” I said, ignoring the latter portion of his question. “Have you ever made one?”

“No. I assume you have?”

“Once,” I admitted shyly. Though I liked to think of myself as a holiday-event-planning extraordinaire, there were still some things that needed a little work. “I made one at an after-school camp at the rec center on Pine Street in the city.”

Aaron paused. “On Pine? I think I went there once years ago.”

I hesitated before saying anything else, not looking up at him when I could feel his eyes land on me. “Oh?”

“Small world. Who knew your entry into home design would start with dry after-school cookies in such a dump?” he said.

“Yeah, it wasn’t my finest work.”

“I would’ve thought yours would’ve won first prize for perfect icing lines on the roof,” he muttered with a curl of his lip.

I laughed. It was easy once it started with little high-pitched giggles. “So, you do know your way around a gingerbread house. Mine had way too many gumdrops. Completely messed up the gingerbread feng shui.”

He raised an eyebrow, as if sensing more than that.

“The roof collapsed.”

Aaron barked a laugh.

My heart stopped in my chest as I listened to the deep, resonant vibrato that escaped him. The laugh wasn’t loud or long; it lasted a second. But there it was. It was enough for my eyes to widen in shock, as if hearing something rare and precious for the first time.

I’d heard it before, in the hallway or gym class.

I’d forgotten how perfect it was. How his laugh was one of the things that had made me fall for him when he didn’t even know that I existed. You could tell a lot about a person by how they laughed. If they were loud and carefree or if they guarded their happiness close to their heart.

He noticed my pause. “What?”

“Your laugh.”

---