Page 21 of Meet Me at Christmas
She drove past rows of dark-green trees with strings of lights above them, and she slowed again to really take it in. It had been another interesting day with Henry, and she wanted nothing more than to enjoy the sights of Christmas to get her mind off the article, Henry, and her family worries.
“Christmas is what family’s all about. It’s the season of happiness.”Her dad’s voice seemed to be finding her quite a bit since she’d been home. She hoped she wasn’t letting him down. With Lily out of the country and Stella working so much, she wasn’t doing a very good job of bringing their family together. Maybe being happy was just too difficult for her, given what had happened here.
When she passed the last row of trees, she nearly came to a stop in the middle of the street. Henry’s truck was parked in the lot, and he was walking the aisle, looking the trees up and down. She felt as if she’d gone back in time. His gait was the same, his broad frame moving in a slight swagger as he walked. For a second, she thought he might turn around and grin at her like he had all those years ago, maybe make a silly face, or run toward her with that flirty look in his eyes, but then she reminded herself that she’d lost that Henry.
Something caught his attention, and he looked up and locked eyes with her through the windshield. Then, tentatively, he raised his hand to wave hello, a gesture she’d never expected from this Henry. She eased the car to the side of the road and rolled down her window.
“Decorating?” she called to him, taking a chance at lighter banter though completely unsure how he’d respond. The least she could do was to be friendly.
He didn’t answer, but after a moment of what looked like deliberation, he motioned for her to join him.
While she’d much rather climb into a warm pair of pajamas and curl up by the fire, she complied, turning into the tree lot, and putting the car in park. She got out, cinched her coat tighter against her neck to combat the cold, and trudged through the slush to where Henry was standing.
“I don’t have a tree,” he said without a hello as he scrutinized the one in front of him. “Mary Jo told me I should get one on the way home to spruce up my cabin, and I think it would make her happy to see me trying.” He appeared completely out of sorts. His lips were downturned, his shoulders hunched near his ears. The old Henry would have adored looking for a tree.
A shot of guilt hit her in the gut. Stella knew that cabin like the back of her hand. It was where she and Henry had lived while they planned renovation ideas for the farmhouse they were going to buy and restore once they were on their feet financially. The farmhouse that never had a chance to materialize.
“You might find that it will liftyourspirits too,” she suggested softly.
He yanked his gaze from the tree, his eyes landing on her once more.
“I know the cabin pretty well. If you let me know where you and Mary Jo are planning to put the tree I could help you choose one.”
“We want to put it in the bay window.”
“Okay,” she said, trying to slow her racing heart. “You mean those big windows in the den with the window seat?”
He stared at her, his shoulders still tense. He seemed uneasy that she knew such a personal detail about his living quarters.
“I think itwouldlook nice in that spot,” she agreed, biting back a swell of emotion, recalling the live Fraser fir they’d put there together. He’d insisted on a fish ornament that had made her cringe every time she looked at it. After lengthy debates, her love for him won out, and she’d hung that ridiculous thing on the tree front and center. When he saw it, he’d come up behind her, wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her neck under her ear, making her simultaneously squeal and pull him closer.
Stella forced the thought out of her mind quickly before she made him more uncomfortable with her tears. Standing opposite him was proving more difficult by the minute. His mere presence forced her to acknowledge her actions in the life she’d run from, and even after all these years, she still wasn’t ready to come to terms with it.
He started walking and she joined him, the two of them moving through the lines of trees, their breaths puffing out in front of them, the smell of pine tickling her nose. She wondered what she was doing there with him, why he’d waved her over in the first place. But then she remembered he didn’t have many memories of friends or neighbors; perhaps he’d just been relieved to recognize someone he could ask. Part of her wished she could let go of all the memories they’d made, watch them fly into the air like helium balloons until they disappeared, but then she’d have to give up the good ones too, and she didn’t know if she’d ever want to let those go.
Henry paced along, row after row, studying the different trees. Stella wasn’t sure if this pairing was the best for her psyche. As she walked next to him, the pang of longing, of missing out on the life she might have led, took hold.
They entered another row of trees and he stopped in front of one. “This one,” he said.
A Fraser fir.
She looked up at him, the old Henry somewhere in there, locked away. She wondered what it would feel like to have his arms around her again. But accessing the old him would be both a blessing and a curse. While the smiling, carefree man might return, she’d have no choice but to face the fact that she’d known him all her life—loved him—and hadn’t had the decency to give him a real explanation for leaving. She couldn’t have. Not back then. He would have tried to make her stay, and she loved him enough that he probably would have convinced her. It didn’t matter. That Henry wasn’t in front of her now. In both instances, she’d lost.
Now she was facing a brand-new future with him. Henry had been through so much in the last few years, and his struggles were unfathomable. She had to put aside their past and get to know this version of him. He needed a friend—support—as he moved through this new reality. She owed him that much.
“I’ll go pay for the tree,” he said, taking his wallet from his back pocket and pulling the tag from a branch.
She followed him, and as they walked together in silence, he stopped briefly by the Holiday Hoops booth. The prizes had barely changed in thirteen years, making her heart patter. The skin between his eyebrows creased as if he was confused.
“Do you remember something?” she asked.
He shook his head. “No. Why, should I?”
She glanced at a bear with a little green vest and red bowtie, wishing so many things could’ve gone differently.
“No reason that I know of,” she lied to spare him. “What were you just thinking about?”
“Mary Jo’s finishing up with the farmhands and she’s gonna be tired. Do you think you could…”
