Page 53 of Merry Little Hate Notes

I embraced Brandon, feeling his warmth envelop me. As I nestled closer, I could feel the gentle rise and fall of his chest, and his familiar scent, a mix of cologne and comfort, engulfed me. He reciprocated the hug, encircling me in his strong arms. The thought that kept coming to me:It’s beginning to feel a lot like Christmas.

BRANDON

“DO YOU REMEMBER WHEN WE picked these out in that market in Hamburg?” Holly asked her father, radiating happiness while holding up an old wooden box filled with blown glass ornaments of Santa, cottages, and roses. She sat on the floor near what she called the perfect tree that had only taken her two hours to decide on. We’d already strung the tree with strands of warm lights. Their glow illuminated Holly and the dusty crates surrounding her that probably hadn’t seen the light of day in at least a decade. Andy Williams crooned Christmas tunes on Dr. Harry’s old record player. Holly believed that only Andy Williams or Bing Crosby were worthy to provide the soundtrack for Christmas tree decorating. “I wanted a traditional German tree that year, since that’s where Christmas trees originated.”

“I remember. We cut out paper flowers that year and you hung apples on the tree while Christian and Brandon almost burned down the house when they decided the tree needed lit candles.” Dr. Harry gave me a knowing look.

I offered him a chagrined smile. “In our defense, lit candles were traditional, and we were the ones who put out the fire, as well as replaced the half-charred tree.”

“And whose tree did you chop down?” Hollyasked impishly.

“Once again, in our defense, no one lived on that property yet, and my mom made us replace the tree when she found out.” Christian and I really had been idiots. It’s a miracle we hadn’t gotten in more trouble growing up—or been caught. What I wouldn’t do to get in trouble with him now. I probablywasin trouble with him. Every time I looked at Holly, I could hear him cursing my name. Oddly, I found it comforting. I needed to hear his voice, even if he was angry with me. I’d been running from it for too long.

Holly laughed. It was the best sound in the world. Unable to resist being close to her any longer, I launched myself off the couch, pushed a crate out of the way, and joined her on the floor. The smell of pine filled my nose. It was the best smell, in Holly’s estimation.

Dr. Harry observed us from an old leather chair I remembered from his study long ago. His wise eyes said he knew exactly how I felt about his daughter. I had a feeling he’d always known. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to be against it—if anything, I think he approved. “I think I’m going to go make some cocoa for everyone.” He stood and gave me a wink, as if to say,Good luck and carry on.

“Extra marshmallows, please,” Holly called out to his retreating figure. “Also, there’s peppermint syrup in the cupboard above the stove. Thank you.” She glanced my way and blushed. “I know it’s juvenile.”

“I was thinking more like adorable.”

She nudged me with her shoulder.

I longed to embrace her and kiss her lips under the glow of the Christmas tree lights, but I wasn’t sure when the best time would be to bring up that I was the worst sort of prick. I kept waiting for her to bring it up. Why hadn’t she? I worried she was afraid to ask—or worse, knew it was bad and would be the end of this fire we’d ignited between us. Or maybe she just wanted to move on from the past. Although the Holly I knew would never let what I did to her slide. But telling her the truth now, when she was clearly so happy, didn’t seem right either.

So, I did the only thing I could do: I nudged her back. It was a real smooth move.

She giggled, but there was something in her laugh that said she was making fun of me. Did she know I was purposely keeping my hands off her?

“Can you hand me that crate? I want to see what’s in it.” She pointed to my left.

“Of course.” I reached over and easily lifted the dusty wooden crate before setting it in front of her.

“I’m not sure what theme I want to go with this year. I thought I would take out all the decorations and then we could decide.”

“Sounds good.”

Holly opened the crate like an excited child opening a gift on Christmas morning. Her beautiful smiling face filled with anticipation as she removed the layer of packing material protecting the ornaments inside. But then, as if a switch had flipped, all the light in her eyes went out, and her face fell when she pulled out a red box. “I didn’t know this was in here,” her voice trembled.

“What is it?” I was more than concerned. I wondered at first if it was something of Christian’s, but he didn’t seem to haunt Holly like he haunted me.

“They’re bride ornaments,” she whispered. “My dad had these specially made for my mother during their engagement. I didn’t know he’d kept these.” She dropped the box back in the crate as if it physically hurt her to keep holding it.

I wanted to ask her what had happened to her mother and why they were estranged, but Dr. Harry walked back in with two steaming mugs of cocoa.

Holly quickly threw the packing material back over the box and plastered on a fake smile. “Hey, Dad.”

Her dad’s smile indicated he hadn’t seen the box. “Here’s your cocoa.” He set both mugs on the coffee table. “I forgot I still have some final grades to turn in, so I’m going to leave you two to handle the rest of the decorating.” Dr. Harry was as terrible an actor as my parents were—he wasn’t fooling anyone. Not that I didn’t appreciate the alone time with Holly.

“Okay. Thanks, Dad,” Holly said, abnormally pitchy.

“Good night.” Dr. Harry waved.

Once he was gone, Holly sat in a daze, staring at the crate.

I scooted closer to her and took her shaking hand. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Yes. No,” she immediately corrected.

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