Page 20 of Annika's Aurora

Logan couldn’t stop himself. He dropped his fork and was on his knees beside her in an instant. He wrapped his arms around her waist and laid his head in her lap. “Fuck, Annika. I don’t understand how you can possibly forgive me. I do not deserve you.” He felt her fingers in his hair, stroking in comfort.

“That’s not true,” she argued gently. “You deserve to be happy just as much as anyone else in this world. You, my lonely warrior, are deserving of so much.”

He looked up at her, and she smiled serenely down at him. “Your words. You have such a beautiful way with words.”

“I’m an English teacher. It’s my job to have a firm grasp of the English language.”

He laughed. Then raised himself until he could fit his lips to hers. “Thank you. For everything. For Grandma Jean. Everything. Thank your parents for me too.”

“Uh-uh. You are going to do that yourself the next time you see them.”

He sat back on his heels and ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know, Annika. I don’t know if I’m ready to face them.”

“Yes, you are,” she assured, smiling down at him. “Because there is nothingtoface. They love you. They never stopped loving you. They will be overjoyed just to have you home again.”

She gave him a little push. “Now, go eat your cold eggs.”

He kissed her as he stood to do her bidding. “Yes, ma’am.”

When he started eating his, yes, very cold eggs, she asked something of him that shocked him all over again. “After we get dressed, let’s go get a Christmas tree and all the trimmings.”

“Did you forget about all the snow out there?” he said, pointing to the windows.

She made a sound as if to say pish posh. “Are you a true Michigander or not? That little bit out there wouldn’t stop a true Michigander. Besides, the town is probably clear by now.”

Soon he sat behind the wheel of his truck, willing the thing not to get stuck in the snow. “So where should we go?” he asked the little snow bunny sitting beside him. She was all bundled up, hat, gloves, scarf, and overlarge parka with furry trim around the edge of the hood. She looked adorable.

“I think there’s a tree farm on Stafford.”

“Think it will be open?”

“I hope so.”

“Well, if it’s not, maybe with your eloquent words, you can sweet talk the owner into opening up for us,” he said with a wink.

“Very funny.” But she didn’t need to use her expertise with words since the lot was indeed open. Trudging through the snow while looking for the perfect tree, she stopped at a Fraser fir and circled it. “This one,” she stated with certainty.

Well, that was quicker than he’d expected. He bent over with the saw to cut it down, then the owner helped them bundle it up and put it in the back of the truck.

“Okay, now the trimmings,” she said, climbing into the cab.

They’d stopped at a big box store for everything they would need, and on returning to the house, Logan worked on straightening the tree in the stand as Annika directed, telling him which way to move it. “Perfect!” she said, ripping lights out of the boxes.

“You know, this would have been a whole lot easier if we had just bought one of those pre-lit fake trees,” he mused as he made a pass around the tree with the strand of lights.

“Maybe, but there is nothing like the smell of a live tree,” she said while inhaling. “That smell says Christmas. And we have the added benefit ofseeingthe perfume, the tree with all its baubles, instead of just being able to smell it. It’s a magic that works its way into people’s hearts, making everything soft and lovely. It reminds us of childhoods long left behind and fills our imaginations. It’s like you can inhale the aroma of the pine and fill your soul with wonder and dreams. I’d forgotten all that for a long time.”

Logan paused in his trip around the tree and smiled at the beautiful words spoken by the exquisite blonde on the couch. He had every intention of filling his soul with the wonder of her and dreams of them together forever. “Can’t argue with that.”

The smile she sent his way distracted him so that he tripped over the strands of lights he was working with, causing a mess of tangles. The lights somehow managed to get twisted around his feet, and he shook his left leg to free himself. Growling his frustration as he attempted to untangle the lights, Annika’s laugh drew his attention.

“‘I’ve learnt you can tell a lot about a person by how he handles these three things: a rainy day, lost luggage, and tangled Christmas tree lights.’ Maya Angelou was spot on.” She laughed even harder when Logan glared her way, but he couldn’t stay mad for long. Her laugh did more to fill his soul than the magic of a twinkling Christmas tree ever could.

She captivated him. Watching her laughter was like watching the sun finally break through the clouds in spectacular bursts after a week of rain. He’d spent so much time crawling through the shadows that her light was blinding. He couldn’t look away. And he didn’t want to.

He responded to her light, wanting to scoop it up and drink a cup every morning to irradiate himself. He would fill his darkest recesses with her light until all the shadows of his past were banished. She had always been able to do that for him; he’d forgotten that for far too long.

“Oh Logan, look,” she cried excitedly, pointing to the floor. There, on the carpet, were a multitude of miniature rainbows. The sun shining through the windows had caught the glass ornaments at just the right angle while they waited to be placed on the tree, creating the effect. Tiny spectrums of light dancing across the floor. As he watched, Annika stepped into the light’s path, allowing the rainbows to cover her. She twirled around with a bright giggle, and his heart skipped. He stood still as she danced with the light, too enthralled to do anything more than breathe.

---