Page 34 of Blame It On The Reindeer

She smiled again, this one brighter than before. Holy shit, I needed to stop looking at her when she did. It was like I really was a grinch, and each smile she offered helped to make my ice-cold heart grow a size or two bigger. Okay, so maybe it wasn’t just myheart.

“I do.” She nodded happily. “Not that you can tell since I haven’t had a chance to decorate here yet. But that’s on my list for this weekend. I don’t want people to start talking about me because I’m one of the last houses to put my lights up.” She laughed, but I knew there was some truth to what she was saying. I hadn’t been in town long, but I could already tell how serious the people of Sugarplum Falls took Christmas.

“They really do that?”

“They sure do. Especially the older ladies in town who have nothing better to do than gossip. It’s always a hot topic this time of year, and most of us try to get ahead of it by decorating as early as possible to avoid being in the gossip mill.”

“Wow. I’m glad I don’t have to worry about that,” I admitted, running a hand through my hair. “I can’t see my closest neighbors, so I doubt anyone would care if I didn’t decorate.”

“Don’t you care though?”

I shrugged, not sure how much of this to get into.

“Not really. I don’t really care for the holiday in general, so I see no point in decorating and making a big deal of it. Especially since I live by myself and don’t have anyone who comes to visit—aside from pretty girls who get themselves stuck to my fence post while trying to steal my reindeer.” I pointed a finger at her as her cheeks flushed red with embarrassment.

“Can I ask you a question?” She tucked her legs beneath her and leaned her side against the couch.

“Sure.”

“Why don’t you like Christmas?”

I pushed back against the couch I was leaning on and straightened my legs in front of me. This was a hard question, one that I didn’t like answering.

“It’s just never been my thing.”

I was hoping she would leave it at that, but then I remembered how determined she was to talk to me about the reindeer, so I knew she wouldn’t.

“Not even as a child?”

My jaw flexed immediately in response. Her eyes widened slightly as she noticed it, but she didn’t rush me to answer.

“I used to love Christmas when I was a kid. My dad and I always went to the mountains and cut down our Christmas tree. Then we’d go home and decorate it together. My mom was usually uninterested, so she never bothered to participate. But Ididn’t mind. My dad and I were incredibly close. He was my best friend.”

I could feel her watching me, waiting for me to say the words that would break her heart the same way they did mine all those years ago.

“When I was thirteen, I was waiting for my dad to come home from work so we could pack up and head to the mountains. I had spent the day decorating the house and was so proud of it. I couldn’t wait for him to see it. But then he called and said he was going to be late because he got a call to pick my mom up from work. Apparently, she had been drinking on the job and hiding it, only that day, she hit the bottle a little too hard. On their way home, another driver ran a red light and plowed into my parent’s car. My dad died immediately, and my mom was taken to the hospital.”

“Oh my gosh,” she whispered, covering her mouth with her hands as her eyes welled up with tears. “I’m so sorry, Brody.”

I nodded, my jaw too tight to try to smile.

“If she hadn’t been drunk at the store, my dad would have never had to go out of his way to get her. The accident wouldn’t have happened, and he would still be here. But because of her, he died. I know it’s terrible to say it, but there’s not a day that has gone by that I don’t blame her for his death. I know she was struggling and needed help, but I can’t forgive her for what she did. She took something from me that I can never get back.”

I balled my hands into fists at my side, hating the emotions running through me after admitting that out loud.

“Because of her, I lost my best friend one week before Christmas. She took everything away from me with her addiction.”

A hot tear ran down my cheek, and before I knew it, Jasmin was beside me, pulling me into her arms as I cried for the first time in twenty years.

“I never celebrated Christmas after that. My mom stayed drunk, so she never even noticed it was that time of year and probably relished the fact that she didn’t have to do anything for it. No gifts to buy. No Christmas dinner to cook. All of that died the day my dad died. I know that she loved him, and I’m sure that she started to drink more to help her deal with his loss. But it only caused me to lose another parent. She never bothered trying to be there for me or to keep us together as a family.”

“I’m so sorry,” Jasmin said, her voice breaking as I felt her tears join mine. “That’s not fair to you at all. My heart hurts for you and everything you’ve lost.”

“Thank you. I think the hardest part was when she took the baseball and glove set my dad had bought me for Christmas and sold it so she could buy more alcohol. That was the last gift he had given me, and we never even got to use it.”

“That’s so sad. I couldn’t even imagine the pain you must have felt from that.”

I nodded, pulling her tighter against me as I allowed her to comfort me in a way no one had before.

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