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I shrug my shoulders as I hand her glass to her. “I have a catering service that delivers twice a week. It’s healthy and fresh. I just have to heat it up. It works best with my schedule, and it’s no fun cooking just for myself.”
“That won’t work tonight,” Ivy insists. “We’re going to break your kitchen in proper tonight.” She gives me a mischievous look. “The bed’s already had a firm breaking in.”
I pull her into my arms, kissing her soundly. “I think it still needs a bit more attention.”
Ivy walks over to the tree, admiring it. “I love real trees. My uncle is allergic, so we have always had artificial trees. Artificial trees are too perfect. I like filling in the gaps, making each ornament work where you thought there was a flaw.”
“You didn’t let me get my Charlie Brown Christmas tree,” I remind her.
She levels her eyes at me. “I’m not a miracle worker.”
“I beg to differ.” I walk over to stand next to her. “How did things go with your uncle the other day?”
Ivy’s face falls. “He was furious with me. Apparently, he got his promotion, and they were waiting for me to go out and celebrate. He’s worked so long and so hard for that job. I hate that I spoiled his special night.”
I can see that even though she complains about his strictness that she respects and loves her uncle. “What about tonight?”
“I told them a few of my classmates were going to go out and celebrate the end of finals and that I would be staying with one of them. He wasn’t happy about that, either. I’ve never been allowed to go out to nightclubs or anything. I’m surprised he didn’t offer a stronger objection. He did make me swear not to drink too much and get into trouble. You know, my whole life I have tried to be responsible, do a good job. He still doesn’t trust me, though.” She pauses, grimacing at the irony of her statement. “I guess the fact that I am lying about where I am tonight isn’t the best affirmation of my trustworthiness.”
I can’t help but laugh. “As long as you can see it.”
It’s snowing lightly as we walk over to the market and pick up the ingredients for dinner. When we get back, I help her chop up the vegetables, but leave her to the “talent” part. I know when I need to bow out. After all, I want this to be an enjoyable evening.
“Anything you want to watch tonight?” I ask, flipping on the television. I’m not even sure I know what numbers all of the channels are since I rarely watch television.
“Oh!” Ivy exclaims. “It’s a Wonderful Lifeis on. Have you ever seen it?”
“I’ve heard of it, but I’ve never seen it,” I admit. “I take it you want to watch it.”
She nods happily. “It’s a favorite of mine. It isn’t Christmas each year until I’ve seen it.”
That’s enough for me. I set it to record (once I finally find it), not wanting her to miss anything while cooking, and inspect the bags of decorations that she brought. “Can I do anything with these while you’re cooking?”
“You can hang the garland above the windows. It’s pre-lit. I have hook strips in there, too, so you won’t mess up the walls.”
“I can tell already that you think of everything,” I say with a laugh and go about my set mission. I remember doing these types of things with Carol. Thinking of Carol, I feel a tinge of guilt. Is it a betrayal to have these feelings again? I already know the answer, though. Carol wouldn’t want me to be living the way I have been. She would want me to be happy and thriving. I can see that with Ivy. With Ivy, I feel alive again. There’s a difference between living and existing. I’ve been doing the latter for far too long.
After dinner (the best spaghetti I haveeverhad), Ivy decorates the garland I hung with ribbons and berries. When she’s done, she stands back. “What do you think?”
Standing behind her, I slide my arms around her waist, taking it in. “It’s magical.”
Ivy turns to look up at me. “Thank you for letting me do it.” She pulls away. “I almost forgot. I have something for you.” She hands me a small bag. “Call it a housewarming/early Christmas present.”
Reaching into the bag questioningly, I remove its contents and laugh when I see what it is. “You couldn’t resist, could you?”
She takes the picture of me sprawled out on the ice and places it on an end table. “I think it should go right here.”
“Don’t you think we should get a picture of us?”
Ivy whips out her camera. “I was hoping you would suggest that. It’s selfie time in front of the tree!”
Afterwards, we curl up with the lights off and the fireplace and decorations all lit up as we watch the movie. In that moment, I can’t imagine wanting to be anywhere else.
