“Oh, and Myra Jean?”
“Yes?” I say, turning toward him.
“Monica was always my favorite.”
21
LINDSEY
“MJ, your tree is gorgeous,”Oliver says, touching one of the shiny gold ornaments adorning the seven-foot faux spruce. My siblings have already gone home, and I’m standing in the living room with Oliver, June Bug, and Ron as they prepare to leave. “Actually, your whole house looks amazing.”
“Isn’t it beautiful?” I say. He’s right. Sometimes, it’s easy to take the magic of the home I grew up in for granted because I’ve seen my mother’s holiday decorations every Christmas of my life. Her collection has grown over the years, but she’s always maintained the perfect balance of cozy and simple elegance.
Lit garland rests atop the mantle where the stockings Mom knitted for us hang. Slender, flocked trees and glowing vines are placed throughout the house, and the banister leading up the stairs is swathed in greenery.
“Thank you, Oliver.” Mom beams.
“When we were kids,” I begin, “she and Dad used to decorate the outside with so many colorful lights. It looked like a gingerbread house.”
“We loved the look on your faces every year when we plugged them in for the first time. Gosh, I haven’t seen the house like that in ages. It got to be too much for your father to climb up thatrickety old ladder as we got older.” Mom’s smile turns nostalgic, and her eyes shine as she rubs a strand of my hair between her fingers. “We had some good times, didn’t we, kid?”
“Yeah, we did,” I say.
“Anyway.” Mom sighs. “I’m so glad you both could come.” June Bug wags her little tail at the sound of my mom’s voice, and she kisses the pup on the nose. “You too, you precious thing. And I suppose, I’ll see you both tomorrow night.”
“I don’t know who’s looking forward to it more,” Ron says, gesturing at June Bug. “Me or her.”
“Are you sure I can’t just drive myself?” Mom asks. “I hate for you to have to get out and?—”
“I insist,” Ron says, cutting her off.
“Okay, then,” Mom says. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Thank you again, MJ.” Oliver gives my mom a hug. “Dinner was delicious.”
“Anytime, hon,” Mom says. “Y’all drive safely.”
I step out onto the front stoop, the chilly night air stinging my cheeks, and Ron continues on to Oliver’s truck with June Bug in tow.
“Good night, Ron,” I say, and he throws a wave over his shoulder.
“So,” Oliver says. “Tomorrow night, I’m meeting some guys from the fire hall for dinner and Monday night football at Snappy’s Pizza. A couple of them are bringing their significant others, and I was wondering if maybe you’d want to come?”
I know what I should say. That as much as I want to spend time with him, I really need to stay home and rest. My fibromyalgia hasn’t let up since yesterday, likely a result of too much cold exposure and simply pushing my body to the limits recently. But I don’t want to tell Oliver that. He doesn’t need to be worried about me, and I certainly don’t want him thinking I’m making an excuse not to see him.
“Yeah, that would be fun,” I answer finally. “I can meet you there after work.”
“Perfect.” He brushes my cheek with his thumb and presses his lips to mine. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“Good night.”
I watch as he walks away, somehow managing to hold in my squeals of excitement until he’s tucked safely inside his truck.
Nerves roll around in my stomach like dice. Oliver easily became a part of my world, but now, I was going to find out what it was like to be a part of his.
I changeclothes and am about to leave the clinic when Kayla pokes her head into my office a little after six thirty p.m. Lucy’s already gone for the day, but we stayed behind to get everything prepared for the next day.
“Oliver’s here,” she says with an apprehensive smile on her face.
