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“Oh, was it optional?” Tyler teases, setting down the baby’s diaper bag.
“Absolutely not!”
“He knew it was a requirement,” Gemma says as Tyler unpacks a floor play mat and toys.
“Wine?” she asks, but they decline. “Guess it’s just Archer and me tonight.”
“The day I stop breastfeeding, I’m gonna drink like a sailor,” Gemma admits as she takes Scarlett back and sets her on the mat.
“Oh, I’ll make sure that happens,” Everleigh says. “We should start the cookies! The guys can put up the tree.”
She takes Gemma’s arm and drags her to the kitchen as Tyler and I get to work. “It’s been a while since I’ve done this. At least a decade,” I admit.
“I honestly think this tree is from the 90s. Most modern ones come in sections, but she refuses to upgrade. Something about sentimental value.” He rolls his eyes with a laugh.
“I heard that!” Everleigh shouts.
“There are colors on each of the metal ends, like this,” Tyler explains as he shows me. “Each color gets a row, so match the colors and put them together.”
“Okay, sounds easy enough,” I say, then grab a couple of pieces and get started.
Tyler puts the base down and then builds the middle vertical structure that holds the limbs. It takes some time, but we eventually assemble it. We take a step back and look at our masterpiece.
“Fluff the branches some,” Gemma instructs, and Everleigh agrees. The first batch of cookies comes out of the oven, making the house smell of sugar and cinnamon.
“How’s this?” I ask once we’ve fluffed them.
“Perfect!” Everleigh beams.
Tyler checks on the baby, and I move back to untangle more lights. The girls don’t realize how loud they’re being and that I can hear their conversation.
“Have you heard anything else about Eric?” Everleigh asks Gemma as Tyler takes Scarlett and the diaper bag to Everleigh’s room.
Eric is a name I’m familiar with, someone from Tyler’s past that he’s told me about. He told me what happened and his connections to the mafia in Vegas, but I honestly didn’t think he still spoke to any of those people, considering that’s what put him in prison in the first place.
“They still don’t know who murdered him, and it’s been months,” Gemma tells her. “But I wouldn’t be surprised if you became a person of interest, considering you slept together.”
Everleigh laughs it off, but I feel my body heat with jealousy.
She slept with Eric? And then he was murdered?
I wasn’t aware, but don’t even know how to bring it up to get the backstory. They continue chatting as Tyler returns.
“They can suspect me all they want. The only crime I’m guilty of is sleeping with a married man who didn’t mention he had a wife. That is not my fault. ”
“I didn’t know, and neither did Tyler,” Gemma adds.
“Don’t bring me into this conversation,” he sternly says. “I warned you not to get involved, especially since he was only staying here temporarily.”
He gives me a look, and the message is clear.
Everleigh is off-limits.
Tyler comes over and helps me wrap the strings of white lights around the tree.
“I’m sorry to hear about Eric,” I offer. “How long ago?”
“Two months. It’s still being investigated. It was tragic and unexpected. I considered him a really close friend, and he helped me in a time of need.”
“Sorry to hear that, man. I hope they find whoever killed him.”
The room grows quiet other than "Silent Night" playing in the background.
I try to change the subject. “Should we have checked these strands first?”
“Shit.” Tyler stops what he’s doing and plugs them in. Thankfully, none are burned out.
“Whew, thank goodness.”
“Come have some cookies.” Everleigh waves us over with a mouthful. “They’re so good!”
We go to the kitchen and find trays of gingerbread cookies along with what I think are wreaths.
“Okay, don’t judge the way they look.” She snickers when I eye her decorating skills.
We all snag one, and Everleigh holds her cookie in the air. “To family,” she says, and we all tap them together. Though they’re still warm, I nearly inhale it. When I look down at the tray, I burst into laughter.
“What?” Tyler asks.
“Do these gingerbread men have dicks?”
Everleigh smiles proudly. “I was waiting for one of you to notice!”
“Oh my God, I was too busy making the wreaths to notice,” Gemma admits with laughter. “I totally didn’t see their little ding-a-lings.”
“Poor guy just hanging out with his junk out,” I muse. Everleigh’s kind eyes gaze at me, and I watch as her bottom lip gets stuck between her teeth. Her warmth radiates off her, and I can’t remember the last time I felt so happy and welcomed.
After we’ve filled ourselves with cookies, we hang the garland, then move on to the ornaments. Everleigh has a huge Santa Claus that she sets up in the corner of the room that sings and shakes his hips when the sensor is set off.
