AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Right,” I say, laughing. I start looking around for cookie tins when Cam moves forward, grabbing a few from a cupboard and setting them on the island for me.
“I recommend this one,” he says, moving a flat one forward. “June thought it was magic.”
sixteen
The smellof hot chocolate lingers in the air.
Mrs. Williams made it from scratch. A recipe that my grandmother gave her, apparently. As soon as I tasted it, it was familiar. Like a forgotten memory come to life.
I’m full of sugar, skin buzzing with all the cookies I’ve eaten—and topped off with a bite of alcohol. Uncle Cam invited all the guests down to trim the tree and broke out several bottles of wine along with a bottle of Kahlua to top off our hot chocolate. I might have found my new favorite drink.
There’s laughter all around. Conversation flows easily.
By the time the guests start retreating to their rooms, it’s past ten o’clock. The tree is absolutely beautiful. It isn’t one of those trees that’s color-themed or put up with design in mind. It’s homey. Bulbs that have a history. There’s a tiny sleigh with my mom’s name on it. Her “baby ornament” with the year of her birth printed on the side. Ornaments with pictures of Uncle Cam from when he was a kid, or fun Christmas crafts he’d made in his younger years that weren’t perfect in the least, but actuallyareperfect because they tell a story.
I sit back on the couch, another hot chocolate in my hand as I stare at the tree. It doesn’t look like my mom’s tree, but that’s okay, it’s still somehow feels right. Every once in a while, I get a whiff of pine over the chocolate, and my heart is happy.
Uncle Cam returns to the room with a bag of marshmallows. He turns the light off until it’s just the fire from the fireplace and the tree lights lighting the room. “Here,” he says. “I thought you could use more of these.”
I fill my cup up with the mini marshmallows again and drop the bag on the side table to my left. He sits next to me, placing his hand on my leg. He’s grabbed a beer from the kitchen and sips it while staring at the tree.
“That was fun,” he finally says, his voice low, almost mimicking the magic in the air. “It reminded me of old times.”
“I haven’t helped decorate the tree in years,” I tell him. “I’m always at school when Mom puts it up.” I snicker as a thought pops into my head, and it’s then I realize it’s possible I’m a little tipsy. “I especially liked the ornament of you in second grade.” I start laughing and can’t stop. He squeezes my leg, staring down at me with a huge grin.
“Is it the hair?” he asks.
I nod, still chuckling. I set my hot chocolate down so I can mimic his spiky hair with my hands. “It’s so pointy.”
He laughs deep in his chest, and it’s baritone-like. “It was the style.”
“Sure, sure,” I tell him. “Says everyone who wants to get out of their bad hair choices.”
“I don’t know. I was pretty slick as an eight-year-old,” he says, puffing out his chest. “I think I had two girlfriends that day.”
“Ooh, big man on campus.”
“Yep,” he says taking a swig of his beer. “I rocked the halls of BCA.”
My chest actually rattles with laughter. “I was a dork,” I inform him. “I don’t think I had my first boyfriend, if you can even call it that, until I was a senior.”
“So, what you’re telling me is that you’re second grade ornament looks worse than mine.”
“Oh, a hundred percent, which is why you’ll never see it.”
He turns toward me. “Well, that’s not fair.”
The amount of Kahlua coursing through me must loosen my lips. “Think teacher’s pet with glasses, and a crooked smile.” I give him the widest smile I can with my teeth pressed firmly together before I break into a fit of laughter again.
He laughs with me. “If it looks anything like that, it’s adorable.”
I grab my hot cocoa, trying to steady my hands so I don’t spill it. The new marshmallows have melted, and I slurp them off the top before taking another drink.
“You really like school then, huh?” he asks.
Shrugging, I say, “Yeah, I guess. I like that there’s always an answer for everything. My mom is a free spirit, and I crave structure. Don’t get me wrong, I love her to death, but I swear the woman can’t leave the house on time to save her life. She never knows where her purse is. Her keys.”
“And you’re the exact opposite.”
