Page 87 of Not Exactly a Small-Town Romance

“Insanely.” Randy retrieves a bag of tiny gold packages glued to green wire. “I think these go on that.”

“Christmas picks,” I say. “I used to shop for those with my mom. She liked adding things like this to the garlands.”

“It fills them out,” he says. “Doesn’t work so well with fresh boughs, though. We just use ribbons on those.”

I finish fluffing the end of the garland and hold it out. “Will it do?”

Randy takes the length of plastic pine and stretches it out. “That looks good. By the time we add the rest, it’ll be all right.”

“It won’t ever look like authentic pine, but it’ll be pretty. It’s probably easier to work with for decorating since you can bend the wire into place.”

“Yeah, the boughs are tricky.”

We both sit on the floor, twisting the tiny gold boxes into the branches.

“Where does your mom live?” Randy asks.

The question stabs me, but it’s a pain I’m used to. “She died when I was twelve.”

“Oh, damn. I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right. It’s been thirteen years.”

“So you did this with her?”

“I did. She liked to have coordinating decorations on the garland and the tree. And never multicolored lights. White only.”

Randy laughs. “Grandmama is a white lighter. Mom likes colors. Dad stays out of the fight.”

“Is Grandmama your dad’s mother or your mother’s?”

“Dad’s. Every Christmas, there’s a battle between his mom and his wife when it comes to lighting the retail section of the farm.”

“I think I’d stay out of that one, too.”

We work a few more moments until we get to the last gold gift.

Randy watches me place it. “It looks great.”

Jack returns with another plastic bin.

“I found red ribbon and gold ribbon,” he says. “But only red balls.” He sets a box on the floor by us.

“We put the Christmas picks in the garland,” Randy says. “Kelsey fluffed it.”

“I knew it would look good,” Jack says. “I have to run. You got this?”

“We do,” Randy says, and something about the way he says “we” makes my heart speed up.

Jack gives us a nod and heads out the front door.

I take the spools of red and gold ribbon and hold them both up to the bough. “What do you think?”

“You’re the expert. We’re lucky you checked in.”

I set the gold ribbon aside and begin weaving the red into the wired branches. “It’s fun.”

“Do you have a lot of work to do during your stay?”

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