Page 9 of Kiren

“Flip the switch at the base and it lights up,” he said.

I felt for the switch and moved it. The tree flickered with multicolored lights.

I looked up at Max. “Like the tiny one only bigger. I love it.”

He grinned. “I hoped you might.”

“It’s my first decoration of the season. Other than the plastic walking Santa and the tiny tree you left me.” Backing up, I said, “Come in while I put this in the perfect place and get my coat on.”

Max took a step inside, glancing about. My place was tidy. I’d only been here six months and didn’t have a lot of stuff accumulated.

I set the little tree on my coffee table right beside the toy Santa and mini-tree.

“It looks perfect there,” Max said.

He glanced at my couch where Brobear was still resting. His eyebrow rose.

I watched him, trying to read his facial expression. As a daddy, he should like the confirmation that I had toys.

Max smiled. “What a delightful place you have.”

My chest filled with bubbles bursting all over. “Thanks.”

When would I get to start calling him Daddy? I couldn’t wait.

“Are you hungry?”

I swung my arms back and forth. “Yes. I’ll grab my coat.”

“Of course.”

Nerves had me on edge, but happy.

We headed out.

The neighborhood was all lit up with light trees and deer and blowup Santas. I loved the icicle lights that were a pale neon blue. People in this area loved to decorate for the holidays. It was as if all the lights shone into me, bright and happy. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt this way.

Max’s car was warm, steam on the windows dissipating when he turned on the defogger. Sitting in the passenger seat headed for a good meal with this lovely man was the best. I would not have sought it out on my own. But because Max played secret Santa, now here I was.

“Thank you for leaving me all those gifts,” I said.

“You’re welcome.”

“You really are a daddy, aren’t you?”

“I really am. And I can’t believe how lucky I am to have found you. Right under my nose all this time. The cute boy in accounts who hides on the rooftop at lunch.”

I blushed. “It’s just that I’m still getting used to things. To the people.”

“Because they know who you are?”

I nodded.

“It’s awkward. I can understand,” he said.

His words comforted me, but he didn’t yet know all my other secrets. Plus, I never went back to college. I often had dreams about that, feeling guilty that I missed all my classes, that I never graduated. It was my own mind playing tricks on me. Lots of people didn’t finish college and were smart and successful. But somehow, missing out on that haunted me, along with the expectations of my parents. They had wanted me to go further, even to grad school for whatever subjects interested me. I hadn’t even begun to find that out before the accident.

I clamped down on all those negative thoughts and rubbed my hands together.

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