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I closed the door behind me, took off my outerwear and boots, and followed him into the living room. It looked as though he’d made progress in here—there were a couple of boxes in the corner, and the top one was open and full of books and what seemed to be blankets. It smelled like a Christmas tree in here, and the tree he’d picked was standing in the corner, completely bare, surrounded by plastic tubs of Christmas decorations.
“You’ve done a good job in here,” I said, looking around.
“Thanks. It was the easiest room to start with,” he admitted. “Mostly full of personal things. Plus I needed to get her bed out. She was sleeping down here because she couldn’t manage the stairs.” Nicholas sighed and looked at the tree. “It’s why I needed the tree. It fills out the space where the bed was.”
I smiled sadly at him. “I’m sorry. Is nobody really helping you?”
“No. I don’t think my mom can bring herself to sort through her things, and my dad is so busy working that he can’t do it either. Everyone else is hiding behind Christmas.” He snorted and put his mug down on the coffee table. “It’s fine. I’ll do what I can. Mom said to pack up all the personal things and she’ll store it in the garage until she’s ready to go through it, and that’s a good half of Grandma’s things. The woman kept everything. I found a piece of my Christening cake in the freezer.”
I pressed my hand to my mouth to hide a laugh. “Wow. That’s… dedication.”
“No kidding.” He dropped his head back and laughed. “That’s just the tip of the iceberg. I’m pretty sure there’s a box of my mom’s baby clothes in the spare room.”
“You have to admit, that’s quite something.”
“Yep. I’d aspire to be that much of a… collector… but I can’t imagine leaving it to my future grandkids to sort out.” He looked around the house somewhat helplessly. “Mind you, I hope my kids won’t be assholes who’ll leave it to the grandkids.”
“That’s nice. Casually calling your parents assholes.”
“It’s fine. They’ll never know.” He chuckled. “Oh, haven’t you eaten yet?”
“No. It’s been kind of a morning. I don’t make it a habit to be out and about this early,” I replied. “Do you mind if I get my breakfast first?”
“Sure. Do you want a coffee or anything?”
I held up the cup and moved to sit on the old floral sofa that would have fit in in the seventies. “This’ll do for now, thanks. Do you know what decorations she has?”
“No, but I’ll be sorely disappointed if there isn’t anything from the twenties in there.”
I laughed, unpacking my sandwich. “At least from the fifties.”
“Exactly.” He moved to the plastic storage tubs and unstacked them. “I did buy new lights as I couldn’t find any. I figured any I did find would be as old as the house, so at least I know they’ll work.”
I couldn’t help but smile. No doubt those decorations would be a treasure trove of history, and even though I really hadn’t wanted to come, I was glad I had.
I finished my sandwich as Nicholas opened all the tubs and started poking through them. I set my wrapper on the coffee table and drank the rest of my coffee before I joined him on the floor.
“Anything good in here?”
“I made this when I was nine.” He handed me a homemade stained-glass cross tied with a tatty red ribbon on the top. The paint was everywhere all over the wood, and a bit of the glass was cracked down the middle.
I grinned at it. “All right, Pablo Picasso. Are you sure you’re not really an art teacher?”
Nicholas laughed and took it back. “No. I hated art. Every piece in this box was made under extreme duress.”
I shook my head. “Where are the lights? I can start stringing them on the tree while you sort through the decorations.”
“Uh… Over there somewhere. I think they’re still in the bag.”
Of course they were.
I went to the bags he mentioned and rifled through them until I found one with Christmas decorations. “You went shopping,” I noted.
“Yeah.” He rubbed the back of his neck when I pulled out a frosted garland for the fireplace. “A lot of the actual decorations were old, and if I’m here, I wanted to make it feel like home for a few days.”
“Won’t you spend Christmas with your parents?”
He shrugged. “I think they might be taking a last-minute trip to my great-aunt’s. I think it’s her last Christmas and my dad wants to spend it with her.”
“So you’ll be alone?”
“Probably. I’m used to it. Aside from the one year I was in a relationship, I spend it alone anyway.”
I stopped and looked down at the garland in my hands. I didn’t like Christmas, and that was no secret, but I did like Christmas day. Everyone together, exchanging gifts, seeing the looks on my family’s faces when they opened their presents, eating together… Generally spending that time together that we might not usually do…
