Page 32 of The Christmas Accomplice

Welton’s expression was almost eager. “You have?”

“I have. Back in college. I haven’t come across a lot of people out here wanting to do that.”

“I’m sure there are some. Maybe they saw your grumpy face and got scared off?”

Reece chuckled. “You’re quite the smart aleck, aren’t you?”

“I’ve had that pointed out to me a time or two. Do you have a favorite Christmas memory?”

“Let me think.” Reece sat up, a group of quilted Christmas stockings dangling from his fingers. “There was the time the tree my dad and I brought home wouldn’t stand up straight, so we had to run wire from two corners of the living room to the top to keep it upright.”

They laughed together, and Reece really wanted to forget about decorating this damn ballroom and just sit back and talk with Welton. But Welton wasn’t about to be deterred. He stood and draped several strings of the large bulb lights around his neck.

“That’s a good look for you,” Reece said.

“Thanks, I thought so.” Welton looked around the room. “You’re going to set up the riser and sound system over there?”

“Right.”

“Can that be put in place now?”

“Sure. I can get a couple of guys to bring it in.”

Reece removed the radio from his belt and connected with one of the maintenance team. A short while later, the riser was in place with a table on top covered by a white tablecloth. During that time, he and Welton had separated the decorations by type: lights, figures, ornaments, and other. They talked through a few decorating options and landed on a shared vision then got busy. Welton strung lights around the table, and Reece climbed the ladder to hang ornaments.

“Do you have a favorite holiday memory?” Reece asked.

Welton sat on the edge of the riser and smiled as he shook his head. “It’s not really a favorite memory, but it’s a vivid one.”

“I’ll allow it.”

“Well, that’s good to hear. It was the year before my parents divorced, and I think they were trying to save the marriage with a big holiday blow out, you know? We owned an artificial tree, but my dad never liked it. He’d had real trees growing up and he wanted a real tree again that year. And he wanted us all to go out to a tree farm and cut one down like he used to do when he was a kid. So, me and my sister and brother got in the car and my dad drove about an hour outside of the city. The snow was deep that year, and the farm gave us the option of wearing snowshoes. We thought it would be fun, so we all strapped them on and set out to walk around this farm and look for a tree. It took us a long time. Like, a really long time. And by the time we found a tree we all liked, we were cold and it had started sleeting. It took a while for my dad to cut the stupid tree down, and we were all miserable as we trudged back to the office. I’m the youngest, so I was lagging behind everyone else. At one point, I fell and couldn’t get back up because the ends of my snowshoes had gotten stuck in the snow. My feet were in the air, and I was flat on my back in the wet snow with sleet coming down in my face.”

“Oh my God,” Reece said from where he stood on the ladder. “That sounds awful.”

Welton laughed quietly. “Oh, it was. And none of my family realized I’d fallen and couldn’t get up. My mom and dad were bitching at each other, and my sister and brother just wanted to get in out of the sleet. I called and called but nobody heard me.”

Reece descended the ladder and sat on the riser beside him. “That must have been scary.”

“Yeah, it was.”

“How long did you lay there?”

“I don’t know. My dad finally came back and got me. He had been really worried, but he was angry, too, so it was an uncomfortable drive home. All of us were wet and cold and silent.” Welton looked up and smiled sadly. “Maybe that was the straw that broke their marriage. Anyway, we didn’t put the tree up that night. My mom made hot chocolate and we watched Christmas movies. My dad put the tree up the next morning and we all decorated it, and it was a lot of fun. But to this day, my brother and sister haven’t let me forget I got stuck in the snow while wearing snowshoes.”

“Siblings are really good at reminding you of the stuff you wish you could forget.”

“That is very true. Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

“One of each. I’m in the middle.”

“Ah, the ignored middle child.”

Reece laughed. “That’s pretty much it.”

They looked at each other, and the moment seemed to stretch out between them until one of them either had to lean in for a kiss or look away. Reece managed to break eye contact, but just barely.

“This room isn’t going to decorate itself, is it?” he said, getting up.