Page 32 of A Tinsel Tale

“How’s that?” Jamie says, voice strained.

“Better. Hold on a sec, I’ll step back and take a look.” I walk backwards a few paces and study the tree. “I think we’ve got it.”

I watch his delectable ass as he army crawls out from under the tree. He hops up in one fluid motion, then fluffs his hair with both hands, dislodging any clinging needles from his wild mop. He takes a look at his work and agrees. “Perfect. Where are your lights? I’ll start stringing them.”

I lift the lid off a large plastic tub and pull out several strings of lights to test. “Let’s start with these,” I say. I plug them in one at a time to make sure they all work. I hand them to Jamie then I return to the tub to search for the Christmas star. “How many lights do you think we’ll need?”

“I’d say at least two or three more strands. This tree is massive.”

“Here’s the star,” I say. I carefully take it out of the box. My mind drifts back to the year Mom and I bought it while we were out Christmas shopping in downtown Chicago. It had been a blustery December day and Mom had come down to spend a couple of days with me during the holiday season. I’d actually taken two days off work. Shocking. The star was ridiculously expensive, but we couldn’t resist. We giggled, pinky swearing not to tell Dad we’d spent sixty-five dollars on a tree topper. “Wait until you see it lit up. It’s a light show all on its own,” I say. Setting it aside, I dig out three more strings of lights to test.

Jamie looks over at the star and chuckles while untangling a string of lights. “You think it’s big enough?”

“Don’t laugh. You’re going to want one after you see it.”

“No doubt.” He smiles at me, and I swallow hard at the warmth in his gaze.

“I’m glad you came a little early to get started before Gwen gets here,” I say.

“What time is it?” he asks.

I look at my watch. “She’ll be here any minute. Why, are you hungry?”

“I was born hungry. I had to smell that pizza the entire ride over. Huxley and I were tortured.”

“Poor dears,” I say. “I’ll go check on Dad and get him settled in his recliner.”

“Sounds good.” He lays out the sorted lights and starts towards the kitchen. “I’ll pre-heat the oven…” he stops short and pivots, “if you don’t mind?”

It’s so weird because it’s completely natural that he should make himself at home. This was his second home all through high school and yet, there’s a lifetime of experiences between then and now. I’ve traveled, visited Italy and Spain and Thailand without him. I completed college and law school, passed the bar exam, tried big cases, conquered a million fears… all without him. In some ways we’re strangers but I feel like we’ve been here before. It’s so confusing.

“Of course,” I say, quietly. “You never have to ask, Jamie.” His eyes flare. The chemistry between us is unreal. I’m ready to jump his bones, confusion or not.

I go back to Dad’s room and he’s sitting on the edge of his bed pulling on a thick maroon cardigan over his navy polo shirt. “Looking snazzy,” I say.

“This old thing?” he jokes.

“I really like Gwen.”

His eyes sparkle. “I’m glad. I do too, but I don’t want you to get the wrong idea, we’re just friends.”

I pull his collar out from under the sweater and straighten it, then pat his chest, biting back a grin. “A-huh,” I say. “Friends are important.”

Dad says, “I see where this is going.”

“I didn’t say a thing.”

“You didn’t have to.”

“All I’m saying is I like her, and I wouldn’t mind a bit if you decided to pursue something more than friendship.”

Dad scrubs the back of his neck uncomfortably. “It’s hard. I do like her, but I feel guilty. And before you say it, I know Ginny would want this for me. She said as much before she passed. But I don’t know, I just…”

“Dad, why wouldn’t you have some guilt? Just don’t let that ruin something that could be wonderful. You deserve to be happy. Momwouldwant this, and so do I.”

I hear a burst of deep hearty laughter followed by a female cackle. “I guess Gwen’s here.”

“And Jamie is already charming her by the sounds of it.”

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