Letting go, she turns and shouts at Koru. “Go get Poppy! He’s made a Solstice feast!” Turning back to me, she says, “It smells delicious. Get it inside before it turns into a roast popsicle.” Without blinking, barely breathing, I do as she says. She follows behind me, something big and heavy in her arms.
“What are you doing?” I ask after I’ve put the roasting pan in the oven on low to keep it warm. She’s sitting cross-legged in front of the tree with a big box and three hedgehogs helping her.
“Decorating,” is her one-word answer. I need a drink.
A few minutes later, I bring her a chai; I’m drinking chamomile, because I need to calm the fuck down. She’s unpacked a box full of handmade ornaments. Glitter, popsicle sticks, and pipe cleaners abound. The sight of all the kid-made ornaments takes my breath away. “This is your childhood,” I say, barely a whisper.
Addy looks up at me, her eyes glistening with tears. “Yeah. Poppy decorated more stylishly. These are mine, and I want to share them with you, if that’s okay.”
“I’ll be right back,” I say as I set my tea on the table beside the sofa.
By the time I’ve dug out our family’s box of decorations—a box I haven’t opened in years—and brought it back out, Addy is hanging ornaments while singing to herself. Her voice is beautiful, low and full. I can imagine her singing to orclings at night before bed.
“Here, now we combine,” I say as I set the bin next to hers. Addy looks from the box to me, her face glowing with a smile.
She teaches me her Christmas song, and I teach her a Solstice song as we decorate. I don’t have any twinkly lights, but in the bottom of my box are candles, so we carefully place them on the branches and light them. Stepping back, my arm holding her close to me, it’s the most beautiful hodge-podged tree I’ve ever seen. And it’s all ours.
“I really didn’t think you were coming back. I thought I was going to have to search you out,” I admit.
“I know. That’s why I had Koru drop me off first.”
“You knew?” I ask, skeptical.
“I knew you’d do something foolish, and I wanted to catch you first. Only I get to be the fool today.”
Pulling her in tight to me, loving all the softness and heat of her against me, we kiss. A quick hello kiss. Followed by a long—I can’t believe you’re really here—kiss. She tastes of her chai, spicy and fragrant. When I run my fingers through her hair, I catch the scent of gingerbread and I’m instantly transported to last night. Needing more of last night.
“The hedgehogs now live under the tree. So, the bed is available,” I whisper as I whisk her up into my arms. She laughs, and I swear my heart feels whole for the first time.
Two steps toward the bedroom and there’s loud thumping on the porch outside. Followed by loud pounding on the door.
“I guess our Solstice dinner guests are here,” Addy says, smiling mischievously at me. “You’ll have to wait until later.” And with that, she pecks my cheek and slides out of my arms to open the door to more people than have ever been in my house at once before.
Chapter 12
Leif
Chaos descends into my kitchen, led by Addy with good humor, sass, and a wicked grin. I’ve never hosted and served a Solstice dinner at my home before. As Koru, Poppy, Bjorn, August, my boss Brann, Tasha and Lucy, Peder, and Kaj remove shoes and coats, bring in even more food, and make themselves at home, I’m surprised by how right this scene is, even if Peder looks awkward as he tucks his wings against his body to make more space for Kaj’s fat bull head.
My co-workers are my family. They’ve seen me at my best and worst. And Poppy is Addy’s only family. Together, they make a merry group of folks who want the best for each of us. That idea blows me away. I’d never thought about family like this before.
My table isn’t big enough to hold all of us. That insignificant fact doesn’t deter anyone. Brann pops open a bottle of prosecco. Tasha has a giant pot of spiced cider to share, along with homemade mac and cheese and cut veggies. Lucy, who I think is five now, has deposited herself in front of the hedgehogs and has declared herself their trainer. August sits with her, laughing as the hedgehogs snort and huff around them both. Poppy pushesher way around my kitchen with her giant belly, setting up plates and silverware, and placing cute mini pies on a serving platter.
And Addy, who watched from the sidelines at the Solstice party, places herself in the middle of everything. She chats and laughs, then checks on her sister, comes by and hugs me, and then goes to put another log on the fire.
When we serve the food, everyone spreads out like a picnic on the living room floor, and it’s a lovely evening. August asks trivia questions about both Solstice and Christmas traditions, making sure to include everyone, including little Lucy.
“I’ve never had mac and cheese at a holiday meal before, but this is absolutely amazing,” Poppy licks her plate clean.
“It’s my grandma’s signature dish. She used to make it for every family gathering, no matter the holiday or season.” Tasha smiles, wearing her pride on her sleeve. Brann rubs her back in a loving gesture that he tries to refrain from at work. It makes my hand reach out to grasp Addy’s, ensuring she knows I’m here, and hers.
“You know, orcs used to have to hunt their beasts for Solstice,” Bjorn interjects, mouth full of meat.
“Next year, you’re welcome to do that, if you wish,” I say, which launches Bjorn into an entirely too long explanation of the modernization of orcs.
“Who got the infamous mistletoe ornament?” August asks loudly, changing the conversation from her mate’s long-winded discussion.
Addy freezes, her fork halfway to her mouth. “Infamous ornament? Sounds ominous the way you say that.” She sets herfork down, her smile not reaching her eyes. Inhaling, I sense anxiety with her. Interesting.
