Page 8 of All the Way
“Everything looks great, Dad,” Paul says. “When did you decide to get a tree?”
“No tree,” Mom says, “unless some elves broke into the house and set one up when we weren’t looking.”
“I don’t think it’s considered breaking in if it’s elves Mom,” Jamie says. “But what are you talking about, Paul?”
Chris and I give each other a furtive glance.
“That was me,” I confess. “I got the tree.”
Silence descends upon the room as my family members look at each other. I can see that they don’t know what to say, and they definitely don’t know what to think.
“I’m sorry, guys. I can see that this isn’t as well-received as I wanted it to be. It’s small. I’ll just put it in my room,” I say, breaking the tension.
“No,” Jamie says. “I want it where everyone can enjoy it. We should have it.” She gives me a small, sympathetic smile. If we were seated next to each other, she would put a hand on my shoulder.
Mom lets out a big sigh. “Okay,” she says with a smile. “You girls are right. We should have a tree. Granddad would be happy to see it.”
Chris reaches under the table where my hands are sitting on my lap and gives them a squeeze. “I’ll go out and get it.”
“You okay with this?” Dad says to Mom, taking a small sip of his wine.
“Yeah,” I say. “I want everyone to be completely comfortable with this. It can be just for me. Of course I’d love it if everyone can enjoy it, but I don’t want to upset anyone. Least of all you, Mom.”
“No,” she says, smiling. “The tree is going up in the living room. Where it should be. And I’m glad you brought it home, honey. I might not have had the courage to go out and get one myself, but I’m glad we have one.”
“You and Chris should go downstairs to the cellar to start gathering up some ornaments for the tree,” Jamie says, nodding in my direction. “Make sure you get a nice assortment of gold and silver. We want this to be an epic tree.”
Paul lets out a little guffaw and looks over at our sister. “You clearly haven’t seen the tree. This is not an epic tree in the making. More of a tabletop tree.” He gets up and starts over to the front door to help Chris carry the tree in.
“It’s a very respectable tree, in my opinion,” I say, defending my little tree. “It might be small in stature, but it’s beautiful.”
Chris and my brother come around the corner into the living area adjacent to the kitchen and prop my little tree up against a wall. Chris’ eyes shine, and from across the room I’m finally able to get a good look and take him all in without the elements in my eyes. Over the past year, he really has become a man, and as his muscles in his arms flex and bulge as he shoves his hands casually into the pockets of his jeans and rocks back on his feet, I feel a warm glow scatter across my face.
“Ornaments?” he says to me, flashing his signature grin. There’s something that hasn’t changed at all.
“Yes!” I say, wiping my mouth and starting to gather up my plate and utensils. “Yes, let’s get to work on grabbing everything we need.”
“You leave that there,” Jamie says. “I’ll put your stuff in the dishwasher. You and Chris need to get busy down in the basement. That tree isn’t going to dress itself.”
I only hope my sister’s gentle teasing is lost on my parents and brother, and I grit my teeth and try to hide my smile. “Thanks, Sis.”
Chris and I make our way to the basement, and once there, we start by checking a few closets for the large plastic crates we store all the Christmas decor in.
“So you guys haven’t had a tree in a few years, have you?” Chris says, sliding a crate out from a closet and wiping away the dust on top with the sleeve of his red flannel shirt. Pulling the lid off, there’s a bunch of my summer clothes tucked away for the winter.
I flick the light switch on and check another closet, pulling out a box that I hope contains simple white lights. “Yeah,” I say, “that’s right. Not since granddad, you know.”
“Yeah. That’s a shame. I never got to meet him. I’m sure if he’s anything like you and your mom, I would have loved him.” Hearing him say that makes my heart feel like it’s glowing. He pulls another box out of the closet and opens it, revealing an assortment of simple gold and silver balls and other unique ornaments for the tree. “Bingo. Found the gold and silver decorations for Jamie.”
“That’s perfect,” I say. After confirming that my box is packed with the white lights, I find the tree stand in another box hidden away at the back of the closet and start back up the stairs with the tree stand.
“Wait,” Chris says. “I was hoping we could talk a little.”
I turn to look back at him and I’m overwhelmed with the heady combination of excitement and uncertainty. Looking down at him from a few steps up, I feel like I’m a world away. He’s got his hands shoved into his pockets, and all I want is for him to come up to me and wrap his arms tight around my waist, pull my hair back in his fist, and kiss me tenderly like it’s the first time.
“We can,” I say cautiously, stopping to catch his glance. “You’re going to stay and help decorate the tree, aren’t you?”
“That’s not what I meant,” he says, stepping toward the bottom step and squaring his body with mine. His sharp, chiseled face stands in contrast to the softness of his fleece. That sexy button-down and those dark jeans fit him perfectly, and my breath catches somewhere deep in my throat as he looks straight into my eyes. “That’s not what I meant. I meant I really wanted to talk to you.”
