Page 25 of Merry Little Midlife Matchmaker

“Real or fake?”

“Excuse me?”

“The tree. Do you want a real one or a fake one?”

“Oh. Um. Real?”

“Great! There’s a man who sells them just outside of town in a big grocery store parking lot. Zach and Hazel are actually hanging out with my parents tomorrow evening, so I could drive out there with you—oh! But you probably want to do this just you and Mikey, right? I can just send you the location. And you probably need ornaments. You think Mikey will want to choose them?”

“I was kind of thinking it could be a surprise. Have the tree and the ornaments at our place, and then Mikey can decorate it.”

“Perfect. I can call my parents and ask if they mind watching him tomorrow night, and then we can dart over, get the tree, choose some ornaments, and have everything ready for him when he comes home.”

My heart squeezed. She made it sound so easy. The hot coal burning in my chest told me that this would be uncomfortable, with a tide of memories already trying to flood my brain, but it would be worth it to see my son smile. “Your parents wouldn’t mind? I’ve been relying on you guys so much since I got back.”

“That’s what family’s for,” Lizzie answered brightly. “Let me call my mom and I’ll text you. This is going to be so much fun!”

I couldn’t have stopped the smile from spreading on my face if I tried. “Thanks, Lizzie.”

“Talk to you soon!”

We hung up, and I slumped down on the sofa, exhausted. It was the right thing to do, to put myself second in order to makemy kid happy. But it still made my body feel stretched with tension. Leaning into the Christmas spirit wasn’t something I’d done in a long, long time.

Still, when Lizzie sent a text a few minutes later saying her parents would be happy to watch Mikey, I let out a long breath.

I was getting a Christmas tree for the first time since my divorce. And I was doing it with Lizzie Butler by my side.

I wouldnotmess this up. There was more at stake than just my lust for a woman it’d taken me forty-odd years to notice. There was her family’s support, my place in this community, and my son’s happiness.

Still, a part of me mourned what couldn’t be. Those sunlit smiles, soft curves, and dark eyes. The lightness in my chest whenever she met my gaze. The way my heart seemed to have started beating again for the first time since my marriage fell apart.

But if there was one thing I had to remember, it was that Lizzie wasn’t for me.

TWELVE

SEAN

Lizzie was bundledup in a puffy jacket, a thick scarf, and a hat with a gigantic pompom. Her cheeks were red with the cold, and she smiled at me as I pulled up in front of her house. Then she wiggled the end of a power cord at me and made a big show of plugging it into the outdoor outlet on the side of her house.

Lights blazed on her eaves and around her windows, with lit-up icicles hanging from the gutters. She ran down the path toward me, practically skipping, and I couldn’t help but laugh in response. My window whirred as I rolled it down, leaning an arm against the frame.

“What do you think?” she asked, spinning around to take in her work. “It took me four hours.” She gazed at the lights. They reflected into her eyes, and I watched the glow of them against her skin. For a second—just a moment—all the negative memories associated with the holidays faded, and I just watched the way Lizzie’s smile lit up her face. My chest felt like a warm, crackling fire, like the coziness of a fuzzy blanket and a soft woman snuggled in the crook of my shoulder.

Then her words sank in. “You did this by yourself?”

She nodded. “Uh-huh. I work half days on Thursdays, so I figured it was the perfect time, especially with the kids hangingout with Grandma and Grandpa after school. They’re going to be so excited when they drive up.” She beamed at me. “You inspired me with your talk of surprises and happy kids.”

My heart gave a lurch. “You could have called me.”

“Weren’t you at work?”

“Well, yeah, but…” I looked at the eaves. Putting those lights up was a two-person job. “What if you’d fallen off your ladder?”

She grinned. “Don’t worry. I’ve learned to live without a big strong man in my life for this long. I can manage a few Christmas lights. Speaking of which, you ready to head out?”

I nodded. She walked around to the other side of the truck and got in, then directed me down the road and through town.

“Thanks again,” I told her. “I feel like I owe you about a dozen favors by now.”

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