by Jody Holford
“You really want this thing in your house?” he asked, kicking at it a bit, causing snow to scatter from its bark. She looked up from the path she was making in the snow with her boot.
“I really do.”
“You know it probably has bugs in it?”
“I was going to spray it down and leave it outside for a couple days. I’m not scared of a few bugs.”
“Or anything else apparently,” he muttered. While this seemed to piss him off a bit, the fact that he thought so melted something inside her, giving her the second-wind she needed. She picked up the axe. He looked at her, looked at the axe, closed his eyes briefly and tipped his head back, hands on his hips.
“We’re friends, right?” he asked when he finally opened his eyes and looked at her. The question took her off guard, the answer even more.
“Yes. We are absolutely friends,” she replied. He stepped toward her, crowding her in the wide-open space. Cars honked and idled in the distance. She could hear both of their breathing and see their breath on the icy air. He looked down at her with an indecipherable look before holding out his hand.
“Then, as your friend, and in thirty seconds, your partner in crime, I’m asking you, imploring actually, to let me finish chopping this before we both freeze our asses off and it’s too dark to find the cars. Or you know, someone catches us.”
She glanced up at the sky. The moon was a sliver against the smoky grey that would, as he said, soon be black. She passed him the axe and bit her lip to keep from laughing at the expression of relief that crossed his features. She held back only because he did not look like he was ready to laugh about all of this just yet.
She’d been prepared, he’d give her that, he thought later, as he peeled off his clothes, which stuck to his skin, and stepped into the hot spray of the water.
“Prepared, except for the permit,” he mumbled. Tipping his head back, his mind wandered to the way her eyes had brightened and the way she did a little on-the-spot dance when they’d leaned the massive tree against the side of her house. Her eyes had crinkled at the corner like a kid given exactly what they wanted. Once he’d started hacking, it had only taken a few minutes to drag it to his truck. She’d done her share without complaint and made him smile when she’d thanked him, saying “No one’s ever helped me commit a felony.”
He lathered soap onto himself, washing away the day. She’d thrown her arms around him before going into the house. Kissed him noisily on the cheek and said ‘Thank-you’ for the hundredth time. He could still smell the pine and her subtle scent mixed with his own soap. She should have annoyed the hell out of him but instead, he felt himself being pulled in by her delight and determination.
“Not a good idea. She just wants a friend. Don’t go there,” he warned himself. He tried to wash the thought down the drain with the soap.
Chapter Five
“Hmm. Interesting. Hope it doesn’t have rats,” David Meyer said into the phone. She always wondered why he phoned during the day when he knew he’d be distracted by work.
“I doubt it,” she huffed as she placed the last of her addiction, a pair of purple, not-yet-worn Converse, on the shoe shelf she’d rigged in her closet. She smiled at the sight of all of her shoes out of boxes and put away. Now, she could start on her tree.
“Well, make sure you have someone take a look when they bring it into the house for you,” he said.
“Of course,” she agreed, smiling to herself.
“I booked flights for the three of us so we’ll arrive on the 23rd,” her dad informed.
“Three?”
“I took the liberty of booking a ticket for Jordan as well. Seemed easier than her travelling alone.”
“Does she know?”
“Of course she knows Anna. I told Kyle to call her and inform her and I’m certain he did.”
She closed the closet door and caught the scent of sugar cookies. The timer was going to go any minute.
“I’m really excited you’re coming, dad.”
“I’m looking forward to seeing you. Do you need anything?”
“No. Just you. And Kyle and Jordan.”
“Good. I’ll take back your presents then,” he joked, finally giving her his full attention.
“I didn’t say that,” she smiled into the receiver. “I gotta go. I love you.”
“Me too. See you soon.”
The sugar scented air made her inhale with appreciation as she padded into the kitchen with her slipper-covered feet to the kitchen. January was going to be a shock when she had to actually get dressed in the morning rather than wearing the pajamas from the night before. She eyed her Christmas tree with pride as she passed it, sitting tall and proud in front of her living room window. She’d dragged and pulled it up the stairs. Pushed, even, at one point.
She had set up the stand first so she could tip it in which sounded easier than it turned out to be. She could say for certain that there were no rats as she’d been in the tree more than she would have liked. Still, she thought, as she pulled out slightly burnt cookies, she’d managed. It stood waiting to be decorated. Pulling the second tray out she turned the oven off, touched the top of one cookie and, predictably, burned her finger. She stuck it in her mouth automatically and walked to the window at the side of the kitchen to see if Sam’s truck was in the driveway. She picked through to find the least burnt ones and packed some up; he’d definitely earned cookies.
Sam was chewing the end off of another pen, while looking over blueprints when the doorbell rang. He’d made the second bedroom an office the moment he moved in a few years ago. He needed his tools and drafting table up more than his bed so it’d been the first thing he’d sorted and organized. He often wandered into this room first when he got home, beer in hand, to look over blueprints, magazines, or design plans. He preferred just sitting in here toying with ideas to almost anything. Almost. When the bell rang again, he went to see who was at the door wondering when his life had gotten to the point that his Saturday night adventures included sketching more plans.
He opened the door to find Anna, wearing blue and green striped, flannel pajamas, her knee high winter boots, a blue scarf wrapped tight around her neck, and holding a plate of cookies. His mouth watered and since he’d never had a thing for women that spent most of their days in flannel pajamas, he felt relatively certain it was for the cookies.
“You busy?” she asked with her impossible to resist smile.
“No. Nice jammies. You have quite a collection. You going to bed?” She looked down at herself as if she’d left the house without considering her outfit. Did women do that?
“Oh,” she laughed, “No. Just didn’t see the point in getting dressed to come next door.”
A variety of thoughts crossed his mind but he tried to focus on the fact that most of the women he’d dated wouldn’t leave the house without being dressed to perfection, with a back-up outfit tucked away in their fashionable purse.
“Makes sense,” he agreed, moving aside so she could come in and shut the door. He stopped her from going any farther than the living room by taking a cookie from the plate.
“These are for you,” she chuckled, handing him the plate as he took a huge bite. “To thank you for helping me with the tree.”
“You already thanked me 299 times.” He swallowed a large, slightly burnt chunk.
“Well then this makes it an even 300.”
He popped the rest in his mouth and took another. Burnt cookies beat no cookies any day.
“They’re good. Thanks. Saw you got your tree in the house,” he said walking farther into the living room. She followed but stayed standing when he sat.
“You’re welcome and yes. It’s in the stand. I still think you should put one up in here,” she said, looking around like she was deciding the perfect spot.
He took a third cookie, tilted his head up to look at her standing in his living room with her hands on her hips. He was starting to get used to her assessing the situation
stance. This time, however, he felt an odd twinge, like a spurt of emotion, in his chest when he looked her way. “You’re making me wish I had but it just seems like a bother at this point.”
“You can help me with mine,” she offered, her voice had gone quiet. “I mean, if you want, if you’re not busy or whatever?”
He smiled at how she changed everything to a question when she got nervous.
“You sure?”
“Of course. It’s always more fun with someone.”
“You okay?” He stood and found himself reaching out to tug playfully at one of the strands of blond hair that looked like it was trying to escape the others. It was soft and he had to curb the urge to run his whole hand along the length of it. She looked over at him again, her eyes a bit damp.
She swallowed hard and cleared her throat. Blinking her eyes, she smiled at him and nodded her head.
“Yes. I talked to my dad. He’s booked flights for him and my brother and my best friend, Jordan. They’ll be here a couple days before Christmas. This is my first year doing a tree without them.”
“Well then I guess I’d better keep you company,” he answered. “You have cookies at your house too?”
She laughed and glanced down at the plate she’d brought him. He definitely liked cookies even if they were a bit burnt. He grabbed a sweater and tugged it over his head. As he lifted his arms, she saw the hint of skin between where his white tee-shirt rode up and his jeans. His stomach was predictably defined which she knew from poking him in it a few times when he’d been annoying. Seeing it though, with the small trail of dark hair that traveled down, was a bit more distracting than she’d expected. She took her time moving her gaze upward as she breathed in through her nose, only to find him watching her, eyebrows raised. She smiled innocently but his smug look proved he’d noticed.
“You about done or do you want me to start over?” he asked, his voice husky, his hands still on the hem of his shirt. She cleared her throat and turned toward the door.
“You still want my company?” he asked.
She did so she wouldn’t lie and say she didn’t but she hadn’t expected the feeling of lust that crept along her skin and curled up in her belly. They were friends. And he had a girlfriend. She wasn’t that girl.
“When’s Sierra coming home?”
“What?”
“She won’t mind if you decorate my tree with me?”
He scratched his head and seemed to consider her carefully. He walked to the door, grabbed some boots out of the closet there.
“She won’t mind. Trust me,” he said shortly. While knowing he wasn’t available granted her a moment of relief, not that she wanted him to be available, she was curious about the tone in his voice. Before she could ask if there was trouble in paradise, he opened the door and gestured her through.
It was snowing again, softly, as they walked the path to her house that Sam kept cleared. She could see the tree filling the window, the lights on her house glowing against the darkness. She quickened her step, eager to start the tree.
“Put your boots by the fire,” she suggested when they took them off. She took hers to the wide and deep stone fireplace that she loved.
“Mm. I love a real fire,” he commented, laying his boots beside hers before taking his time to check out the photos she had lining the mantle.
“Me too. It’s my favorite feature in the house,” she replied, warming her hands before standing.
“That’s Jordan. We’ve been friends for longer than we haven’t,” she smiled, running her hand along the frame.
“You miss her.” It was a statement not a question. She nodded.
“It must have been hard to pack up and move away,” Sam said, crouching to look under the tree.
“It was. And I miss her and my dad and brother but there’s just something about this place, not just the house, that makes me feel like I’m supposed to be here,” she shook her head. She picked up her bunny slippers and tugged them on before she pulled her huge Christmas decoration box closer to the tree.
“How old were you when your mom died?” he asked gently from his crouch.
“Four. She got cancer and it had spread too far by the time she found out.”
“I’m sorry,” he shook his head and sat beside her on the couch as she began unwrapping Christmas treasures. She felt the warmth of him through her p.j.’s where their legs touched. Along with the tingly warmth, he felt solid and real. She liked the feeling. She looked at him, nudged her knee against his to lighten the mood.
“Thank you. You’re a good friend. I’m glad we live beside each other,” she told him, placing a mini plastic ruler ornament with the caption “You measure up” on the coffee table. He smiled down at her, doing nothing to lighten the tingling she felt. Friend, she reminded herself, wondering if she’d ever felt this dual sensation of being completely at ease and overly aware of a man at the same time.
“Me too. Mr. and Mrs. Morton were nice but they never once brought me cookies or involved me in any of their illegal activities,” he teased, eyeing a homemade ornament in the palm of his hand.
“Apple,” she laughed.
“Right. You stopped by the school. Did you like it?” He reached for another newspaper wrapped ornament and continued to unload her treasures.
“I love it. I met Mrs. Kelly.”
“Oh, Kelly. There’s a name, huh? She’s nice. I think Melissa and her are in a book club or something,” he answered.
“You said Brianna is in grade two at there, right?”
“Yup. She has Mrs. Hanover who has been teaching since the dawn of time. She was actually my grade two teacher. Nick will go next September.”
She let him unwrap while she moved to grab the box of lights and brought them to the tree.
“Here, let’s switch,” he said, rising and taking the lights from her hand. He tapped her on the nose when she eyed him questioningly. “I’m taller. What are you? 4 feet?” She poked him in the belly, which she now knew looked as solid as it felt and he laughed.
“5’1 thank you very much,” she replied, letting go of the lights.
As they worked together, him trailing the lights around her tree and her unwrapping student-made, student-bought, and family-ornaments, he told her about some of the teachers at the school. He’d attended Kelly’s wedding to Bruce Kelly a few years back. Bruce worked at the bank as all the men in his family before him had done. Mrs. Hanover still gave him the stink-eye if he picked up Brianna for Melissa. He’d played a couple rounds of golf with Mr. Smith and Melissa’s husband.
The town was connected like a tapestry of unique colors, all different, but woven tightly together. Anna longed to be part of that fabric. The snow continued to fall outside and she put some on some Christmas music. There was a peaceful intimacy to the evening, trimming the tree and sharing stories and laughter; an effortless and casual feeling that she’d rarely experienced in the presence of a man. There was no pressure to please or impress though she was not oblivious to the way his shirt stretched over his back when he reached up high to place the star. The night was without expectation in much the same way a night with Jordan would have been. She’d been entirely truthful the other night when she’d said they were absolutely friends. She truly liked spending time with him.
“Want to order a pizza? I think I owe you one,” she reminded him.
“You did eat quite a bit.” She laughed and went to call in the order while he continued placing ornaments with extreme gentleness on her tree.
Sam hung some weird ass clay sculpture thing on her tree that he was pretty sure was supposed to be a replica of Anna. He’d never decorated a tree with anyone other than family and he was surprised by how much he was enjoying the evening. He shouldn’t have been. Since she’d moved in, he’d enjoyed all the time he spent with her, even when she was driving him crazy with her stubborn refusals of help. Everything felt good with her, unless he thought about “Sierra”. He wasn’t a liar on his worst
day and this made his stomach twist into knots.
He’d been around enough women to know she found him attractive but he’d been around her enough to know that if she knew he was single, she’d back off. “Sierra” kept him in the safe zone and he hadn’t figured out how to tell her that he could wait until she was ready. He’d been ready since he’d watched her fall flat on her ass, he realized, listening to her joke with the pizza place. She had such a natural enthusiasm that charmed him like nothing else. He liked being her friend very much and didn’t want to jeopardize that, but since he wasn’t a liar by nature, he couldn’t say he didn’t want more.
“I went with the same as last time,” she said, hanging up the phone and joining him.
“Perfect. I didn’t think teachers actually kept these ornaments,” he said, placing a non-teacher one up high.
“I do. I’m a sap,” she chuckled.
“And all-around Christmas enthusiast,” he added.
“Tell me about you and Sierra,” she said quietly. He looked at her and his gut twisted. Sierra is not real. I invented her so you didn’t go running scared and because it makes me happy to be with you. He didn’t think the evening would end well if he said any of that out loud.
“It’s complicated,” he mumbled. She looked at him like he was one of her projects to assess.
“You have any beer?” he distracted. She kept his gaze for another moment. Then she nodded her head and turned to go to the kitchen.
“Nice job, jackass,” he muttered, stepping back from the tree and eyeing their work. It looked good and when she came back to stand beside him, passing him a beer, they stood, side by side, arms touching, looking at the massive tree, and he realized two things at once: he wanted to be more than Anna’s friend and if he wanted that, he needed to break up with his fake girlfriend as soon as possible.