She went to the Christmas tree—dripping in silver and gold decorations that sparkled with hundreds of miniature white lights—and pulled a couple of presents out from underneath its lowest branches.
“This is for you,” she said, handing a large, square package wrapped in festive paper with a shiny white bow on its top to Holden. Then she handed two wrapped gifts to Max, one that was in a rectangular box (again with a large white bow), and one that was somewhat awkwardly shaped. Sadie pointed at that one. “That’s for Patsy Canine.”
Hearing her name, Patsy got up from her pillow and sauntered over the cushions to Sadie, where she turned around exactly three times and then settled with a little grunt right up against her leg.
“Well, what do we have here?” Holden asked, pulling the wrapping paper off. Inside the box was a pastry, in the shape of an elongated letter “O” and covered in a layer of white icing. “Did Max tell you about my sweet tooth?”
Sadie just smiled (Max hadn’t told her a thing about Holden, because his father was his least favorite topic) and said, “It’s called Kringle—very traditional in Wisconsin. Thisone has cherries, cranberries, and cream cheese. It’s from my favorite bakery back home. We always have one at Christmastime.”
Max saw a wistful look pass over Sadie’s face, and he felt badly she was spending Christmas with him and his dad instead of her own family. He wasn’t Holden’s biggest fan, but there were still plenty of good memories for Max in this house, especially during the holidays, which had been his mom’s favorite time of year.
Max knew Sadie must have had the Kringle shipped and he was impressed she’d gone to the trouble. He smiled at her, then pointed to the two packages on his lap.
“Which one first?”
“Patsy’s,” she replied.
Max opened the gift—a bag of organic chicken jerky treats—and shook it. Patsy’s head snapped up. “Look what Sadie got for you, girl.” He took one out and handed it to Sadie, who then gave it to Patsy.
“You’re her best friend now,” Max said, and sure enough, Patsy crawled up on Sadie’s lap and leaned against her chest, staring at her adoringly.
Sadie scratched under Patsy’s chin. “Okay, now you, Max.”
With a few rips, Max had his gift open. His hands paused for a moment when he realized what it was. “Oh, wow.” He looked over at her, again surprised by her thoughtfulness. “Thank you, Sadie.”
It was a small, beige linen bag, all one piece with a wide fabric handle.
“What is it?” Holden asked.
“It’s a project bag,” Sadie replied, turning to Holden. “For yarn.” For a moment she looked uncomfortable, as though she had given away one of Max’s secrets.
“It’s for my knitting stuff, Dad,” Max explained.
“Ah. Well, isn’t that thoughtful, Maxy?”
“It is,” Max replied quietly.
Max got up from the couch and pulled a small, gold-paper-wrapped gift from under the tree. He handed it to Sadie.
“You didn’t have to get me anything,” she said, looking surprised as she took it from him. Their fingers touched briefly, and a spark traveled between them. Max had an almost overwhelming urge to keep holding her hand. When she pulled away, he felt a crush of disappointment.
“Oh,” she said, her voice low. She stared at the gift in her hands, and for a moment Max thought she hated it. He felt incredibly stupid—it had been a last-minute idea. What sort of boyfriend didn’t give his girlfriend a Christmas gift?
But then she jumped up and threw her arms around his neck, giving him a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you,” she said. “I love them.”
“I’m, uh, glad,” Max said, taken slightly aback. This was a version of Sadie he wasn’t really familiar with—open and effusive. She was now trying on the pair of fingerless gloves he’d knit, the marshmallow-colored yarn soft and fine, while still being warm.
“It’s so your hands don’t get cold when we’re rehearsing,” Max said, turning a bit red.
“They’re perfect.” Sadie held out her hands, admiring the gloves.
“Now, come on, you two lovebirds. I think you can do better than a peck on the cheek,” Holden said. “Go on now. Don’t hold back on my account.”
For a moment the two of them stood statue still, facing one another. Then Sadie put her arms back around Max’s neck, the gloves soft against his skin, and he wondered if her heart was beating as quickly as his. She leaned into him, going up on her toes. They were mere inches apart when Sadie paused. Max paused, too, and whispered, “Okay?”
When Sadie gave an almost imperceptible nod, he closed the distance between them. Her lips were warm and tasted of vanilla and red wine. Max’s knees almost gave out. Apparently, their voices weren’t the only things that fit together perfectly. He closed his eyes, the pressure of her lips and her body tight against him making him unsteady. A long (but not long enough) moment later she pulled away and whispered, “Merry Christmas, Max.”
“Merry Christmas, Sadie,” he replied. He felt feverish from the kiss, and noticed a deep pink hue to Sadie’s cheeks that hadn’t been there earlier. He wished they could do that again.
