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“The theme this year is Magical Wonderland, which you all should know from the memo I sent a few weeks back.” Gideon had moved on to talking specifics for the neighborhood decorating efforts. I wanted to leave, but after Morrison’s rudeness, it felt like staying was the least I could do, especially if I wanted the committee to approve the path project. Always with the committees around here.
And whatever the neighborhood crisis, Gideon had a memo, a spreadsheet, or a rule book at the ready. But he was wrong. There was nothing inherently magical about December. These days it was just another month on the calendar for me and not worth all this fuss. Not that I’d tell the guy who was currently gushing over silver-and-gold lighting schemes and rotation of the donation collection duties. I let the signup sheet for that slide on by me.
Finally, Gideon finished, and after yet more reminders about proper snow removal techniques and prompt stowing of trash cans, the meeting was dismissed. About time. Now I could make my escape and head home before Jim got too restless without me.
“Paul! Wait up!” Gideon called right as I reached the door. I narrowly suppressed a groan as I slowed my strides.
“Yeah?” I turned toward him. His smile could reach almost blinding levels. No guy our age should have such deep dimples or such an impish grin. Seemed like his eyes were always sparkling behind his pricey-looking horned-rimmed glasses. He made an adorable hipster, but as much fun as he was to look at, I still dreaded whatever he had to say.
“I’ll walk back with you. I wanted to say thank you for sticking up for the kids. That was very…unexpected of you.” Gideon coupled his dramatic pause with raised eyebrows as if I was more likely to run the kids off with a pitchfork.
“No problem.” I continued my trek out of the building. I didn’t question how Gideon knew I’d walked rather than drove. He was one of those highly observant folks who probably didn’t mean to be nosy but simply couldn’t help noticing every little detail. Reminded me of my brother, which caused my tone to be a little gruffer than I’d intended.
“It was very charitable, and I’d like to help in any way I can.” Gideon was nothing if not earnest. I couldn’t see him pouring cement or leveling a trail in his fancy clothes. Even his jacket was a fashionable wool number, and his jogging clothes were always color-coordinated. Not that I snooped, but Gideon was kind of hard to miss.
“Thanks.” The evening had turned crisp and chilly. It wouldn’t be long at all until snow arrived. I hoped the improvements committee approved the path quickly. I needed some more hours for the crew before Thanksgiving, a reason to make sure my people had enough in their checks to get by. Man, how I hated the slow months.
“I, for one, like having more kids in the neighborhood.” Unbothered by my lack of conversation, Gideon continued his cheery rambling. Leaving the park, we waited at the gates for a car to pass. “The younger families moving in is a good thing, despite some of the grumbles.”
“Honestly, it’s less about the kids and more about Jim,” I admitted before he could go erecting a statue in my honor.
“Jim?” Gideon’s mouth pursed like he’d said a curse word.
“My dog.” Letting Gideon think I’d meant a human companion might have been funny, but it would have undoubtedly led to more prying. I’d spare us both the questioning.
“Ah, yes,” he said with all the enthusiasm of a non-dog person. “I’ve seen you with it. It’s a rather striking creature.”
“Yeah, well, in the mornings, I walk her through the green space, let her run a little if no one else is around yet.” Jim was a big, shaggy Bernese Mountain dog and would have preened at even Gideon’s faint praise. I’d seen Gideon’s little tortoiseshell cat lurking in his windows, and I’d bet that his fussy manners extended to daily pet hair removal. No way could he put up with all the floof of a dog like Jim, not to mention her talent for finding mud in the green space. “If they fenced off the area, we’d likely have to tramp all the way through the park to reach the open area, putting me way behind schedule.”
“Ah.” Gideon made a thoughtful noise. Undoubtedly, revealing my practicality took some of the shine off that statue he’d been so ready to toss up. Rounding the corner for Tinsel Avenue, we passed the Morrisons’ large house. “Still, your help will make a difference to a lot of people. That counts for something in my book.”
“Thanks.” Finally on our own block, this walk needed to be done soon before Gideon revived my sainthood application.
“And speaking of making a difference—”
“Why do I have the feeling I’m not going to like this?” I cut him off because I’d been expecting this the whole walk, the hard sell on some sort of civic engagement, likely involving costumes and crowds knowing Gideon.
“Let me finish. I have a proposition for you.”
“Oh?” Stopping on my heel near a street lamp, I turned to give him a very deliberate once-over. I might be ridiculously out of practice, but I hadn’t forgotten how to put some heat behind my gaze. Not that I had to work that hard with Gideon. For all his fussy ways that got on my nerves, I sure did enjoy looking at him.
“Not…” Gideon coughed, turning pink. He tugged his coat more securely around him. He didn’t need to worry. His virtue was safe with me. Even if I was the sort to play the hookup game, I wouldn’t fish in the neighborhood pond. I’d noticed the rainbow bumper sticker on his little import the day I moved into my place, but Gideon also seemed like the type to smudge easily, too fussy even if he weren’t next door. But somehow, all my lectures on his lack of suitability didn’t stop my body from reacting to his blush.
He coughed again before he took a big breath. “Anyway, the more houses we have decorated for the season, the more likely people are to come see the lights. More people mean more donations, and like your path, the donations make a huge difference to a lot of people in our area.”
Damn it. I’d really walked right into this one, hadn’t I? Groaning, I resumed walking. The faster I reached my door, the better. “I’m not really the decorating type.”
“I know that. I get it.” He gave an exaggerated nod as if someone who changed his porch decor for each major holiday could truly understand. “This season simply isn’t your thing. But that’s where my proposition comes in.”
“You’re going to bribe me to decorate?” Almost to my house, I had to stop again. I’d turn him down, but I was still far more curious than I had any right to be about what he might offer. Thanks to those blushes and his nearness, my sex-deprived brain was more than happy to supply a few suggestions involving his ridiculous bow tie hitting the floor.
“No, no, of course not.” Gideon quickly squashed my feverish fantasies, which was for the best. “I’m offering to do it for you. All the work. Lights, some tasteful decor, all set up and then later stowed for you, hassle-free.”
“You want to string lights on my house for me?” I blinked. And blinked again. Gideon scampering around my roof would be a sight indeed. Not happening, but the image was almost enough to make me smile.
“Exactly.” Gideon practically danced the rest of the way to our shared driveway. “And I can work with whatever preferences you might have—colors, secular, wintery without being holiday, or a nod to any traditions you might have. The Levy family has a gorgeous menorah.”
“I’ve seen.” The thing was probably eight feet and glowed like a landing pad, but it was memorable. Farther down the block, the Reeds always put up Happy Solstice messages and the Jordans on the other side of the street went with a Kwanza theme each year. The neighborhood’s enthusiasm for the season was inclusive of all beliefs, but it wasn’t religion holding me back. “I’m not Jewish. I just don’t celebrate anything.”
