Page 43 of Single All the Way

“It’s way down there where Ruby and Evelyn are standing,” Xavier said.

Ben let go of me, leaned down, and picked up Skyler when she reached us. “Is it a fat tree or a skinny tree?” he asked.

“A big, fat one!” my daughter said joyfully.

Ben shot a private, handsome look of victory my way, making me laugh.

“Show me the way, Sky Blue.”

“Hey, Xav,” I said before my son could run off after them. He turned back to me, his eyes lit up and curious. I bent down and hugged him. “Thank you for being such a good big brother. I love you, kiddo. Your sister does too.”

He hugged me back, wrapping his arms tightly around my shoulders. “This is the funnest night ever, Mom! It’s like…Christmas magic!” He ended the hug and took off toward the others, his excitement too much for him to stand still for things like moms and mushy stuff.

My heart overflowed with gratitude and love—gratitude that Ben had included us in his family’s special tradition and love for my kids and this experience I’d unknowingly deprived them of for all these years.

With our noisy group in my sights down the way, I took a few moments to myself to soak everything in. The smell of pine filled the brisk, snowy air. Laughter rang out frequently, warming me as much as the Bailey’s had. I leaned my head back and looked up at the zillions of snowflakes fluttering down so peacefully, several of them landing on my face.

I sucked in a deep, cleansing breath of fresh, cold air, imagining it replacing the lingering stress from another jam-packed day at work and the season in general. This was what it should be all about. Families. Memories. Snowflakes and laughter.

By the time I finally rejoined our group by the chosen tree, Ben was lying on the ground, reaching under the branches, sawing the thick trunk, a lantern nearby. Ruby and Skyler stood behind him, out of the way, and Evelyn and Xavier were on the other side of the tree, pulling it slightly as Ben directed them.

“I can tell this isn’t your first time,” I said as I joined the two older kids to help.

“You’re just in time,” Ben said, pausing the saw. “You kids move over here with Ruby and Sky. Let Miss Emerson hold the tree. I’m about through to the other side of the trunk.”

We all did as he said, with me reaching into the branches to grab the trunk up high so it wouldn’t fall on him.

Minutes later, the tools and supplies were stashed back in Ben’s bag and the kids were practically jumping up and down with adoration for our “perfect tree” that was, indeed, an extra-wide one.

As I picked up the bag, Ben singlehandedly hoisted the tree up to his shoulder. Not gonna lie…the sight of him being all lumberjackish, lifting a heavy tree, his eyes lit with happiness, had me lighting up on the inside in forbidden ways.Down, girl, I thought.

The kids raced ahead of us, two by two again, toward the shelter and checkout, leaving Ben and me alone.

“I understand it now,” I said, walking next to him on the opposite side of the tree.

“Understand what?” he said on an exhale, telling me the tree was heavier than he made it seem.

“Why you go to all the trouble to pick out a tree, cut it yourself, take it home. The kids will remember this forever.”

“Yeah,” he said, his lips stretching into a sexy grin. “It’s always a special night.”

While I wasn’t committing to cutting our own tree next year, when I wouldn’t have Ben’s help,I’dremember the evening too…to say nothing of Ben carrying that tree as if it weighed ten pounds.

Ben

I’d set out to show Emerson and her kids what the Christmas season could be like. Based on what she’d said as we headed to pay for the tree, I suspected I’d succeeded tonight. What I hadn’t counted on was screwing up my own head even more in the process.

We’d just hung the last few ornaments from the branches, with Emerson-approved instrumental holiday music playing quietly in the background. The rotund tree overfilled the corner of the living room, as Emerson had feared, but I didn’t regret our choice for a second. We couldn’t go tall because of low ceilings in this old farmhouse, but we could go wide, and we had. It gave the room a cozy warmth.

There’d been a poignant moment early on when we’d unpacked the heart-shaped ornament with a verse about remembering loved ones we’d gotten in memory of the girls’ mom. Our ritual was for Evelyn to read it out loud, then both girls kissed it and hung it together. Xavier and Skyler had respected the moment by listening solemnly and watching.

Emerson had sidled up to me and quietly asked if I was okay. I’d easily nodded. At moments like that, my heart ached for my girls and the loss of their mother, but the pain of my own loss had dimmed significantly over the years as I’d come to terms with the ups and downs that had been life with Leeann.

Now Emerson and I were packing up the empty ornament containers as the kids chattered about the prettiest decorations and whether white lights or multicolored ones were better.

“The aroma’s pretty incredible; I have to admit,” Emerson said to me. “Not sure we’ll be able to go back to fake after this.”

“You’ll smell it every time you walk in the house from now till New Year’s.”

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