Page 7 of Merry Mayhem
“It's the best. Unless you're a heathen, of course.” The atmosphere in the room feels instantly lighter with the teasing tone we've both adopted. “You should try a slice.”
Gavin comes in, his coat hanging from his fingers. “I put your pizza in the oven to warm back up. Can we still make the snowflakes tonight?”
“Of course we can.”
Seeing his face light up makes my heart lift. It had seemed like a childish thing to suggest, that we make decorations together, but he had acted like he was willing. In this moment, though, he looks almost excited. He darts a glance over my shoulder, to where Cooke is still standing.
“Do you want to make snowflakes with us?” I ask.
I'm sure he'll decline the invite, claim he's too busy or has more important things to do. But he surprises me again.
“Actually, I think that would be a lot of fun.”
“Yay!” Gavin runs down the hall to his room, and I hear his door open, and the unmistakable sound of his coat sliding across his bed.
It's only a few seconds that we're alone, but when I shoot him a questioning look, Cooke raises a brow at me. “You promised me a slice of pizza. I wasn't about to decline that. The snowflake making just sweetened the deal.”
“You must be a terrible negotiator. A slice of pizza and snowflakes— that's all it takes?”
Gavin interrupted. “Smart business means learning what matters to the other person. Then you help them get it so it's a win for everyone.”
Cooke chuckled. “I guess someone was listening. Now let's have that pizza. Agreed?”
7
COOKE
I shouldn't be here.Sitting here at too small of a table where my knees brush against Gretchen's every time I move is distracting. I know there's work I could be doing, but I find I don't really want to leave. It's such a comfortable feeling, being here with these two, cutting out paper snowflakes, until we have a pile of them in front of us.
“We'll hang these on the windows. And on the walls. And even from the ceiling. It'll be like they're falling right on us.” Gavin is clearly happy, bobbing his head in time with the holiday music he selected to accompany our activities. “We should make a bunch more. We can give whatever extras we have to other people that need decorations.”
Gretchen smiles at me from across the table, and her eyes are bright. The tired, frightened woman I met the night before is gone, replaced with this version that I sense is her default. Joyful, optimistic, living in the moment. All of these things seem to be her natural state, even as she's working full time and trying to parent her own brother. It can't be easy. But in this moment, sharing pizza and making Christmas snowflakes, she's allowingme a chance to be part of something special she'd normally only share with Gavin.
Gratitude warms me, and my throat goes tight. I haven't felt this kind of belonging with many people. The ones I consider family are few and far between. They're the most important to me, yet I don't get to see them often. Merritt, grumpy mountain man he may be, is always encouraging me to visit more. Especially since he met Laurel. He's so in love, he can't help but wish the same for me. Here, now, I understand.
It would be nice to stay here and never have to leave.
“You're pretty good at this,” Gretchen says, pointing at the stack of snowflakes I've got on my side of the table. “Really knocking those out.”
“It's like I'm a professional or something.”
Gavin starts laughing, and then we're all joining in. It's a contagious thing, and we can't help ourselves but give in and enjoy the moment.
As we regain ourselves, the sound of the wind increases, battering the little house, and Gavin gasps when the lights flicker a few times before going out.
I tap the screen on my phone and activate the flashlight function. It's bright enough that we can see each other, and the fun we'd just shared is replaced by near panic on their faces.
“Hey now, I'm sure it's fine. I heard on the radio the wind was going to pick up tonight. It must have started earlier than they thought.”
Gretchen gives me a grateful look. “Remember in the spring, Gavin, when the big rainstorm came, and the electrical mast was damaged? We didn't have power for a couple days then. But we were fine.”
“Yeah,” says Gavin. “I guess. But it wasn't this cold then.”
“No worries about that. You've got a fireplace right over there. And thanks to a very good friend of mine, I know how to build a fire.”
“But you need firewood, don't you?”
Gretchen reaches for her brother's hand. “We have some. In the shed. It's been there for a while.”
