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"Of course. Why would anyone have a fake one?" I say, and then shake my head at myself. What the hell is wrong with me? When did I turn into this big, goofy sap?
Noelle is beaming, all previous sins are forgotten in the face of her Christmas spirit. "What are we waiting for then? Come on!"
Hitting the button to open the garage, I pull the Wagoneer into the dry safety of the garage. I grab her luggage and lock the car. As I walk to the front door, she follows. "So," she says, biting her lip and looking at the ground. "I guess we need to figure out how we're going to get me home now, huh?"
"Home?" I ask, turning the key in the lock.
"You know...like, back to school? The roads are supposed to be flooded, and the airport won't reopen until tomorrow at the earliest, and there's no point anyway since Mom has already left for Grandma's. We don't have to worry about that right now though, do we?"
"You're not going anywhere," I say, opening the door.
Noelle carefully dries her feet and takes off her shoes. "What do you mean?"
"It's Christmas Eve tomorrow," I tell her, walking inside.
She follows. "So?"
"I'm not letting you spend it alone. Not when there's no reason for it."
"Nathan, that's really nice, but I can't stay here. You...I..." She trails off, and then there's a flush high in her cheeks. "Isn't Danny coming home for Christmas?"
"No. He's not." The words are sharp and final. I'm not discussing this any further.
Noelle's eyebrows raise, but she doesn't argue.
I walk her inside the living room, which is decorated to the nines. There's a twelve-foot Christmas tree in the corner and a massive mantle above the fireplace. Stockings are hung, and garlands of greenery and lights are strung everywhere. It looks like Santa Claus vomited on my house but in a modern way...I guess. I don't know much about any of this shit. I'm a fucking English professor, not a Christmas elf.
Noelle, though, is utterly enchanted by the tree.
It's got hundreds of little, multicolored lights, and the ornaments are an odd assortment of antique, shiny, vintage, and glittery ones.
"Do you like it?" I ask, wanting to see the expression on her face.
"It's stunning." Noelle reaches up to run a finger along one of the delicate glass balls.
I clear my throat, wanting to ask her a question. I know she'll be honest with me, but I'm worried about her answer. I'm not sure I want to know. "Are you in a rush to get back to your dorm?" I don't bother telling her that I'm not letting her leave either way. My girl will not spend Christmas alone.
"Not really," she admits. "I'm not exactly looking forward to spending Christmas alone."
"Is your mom gone for the entire holiday?"
She nods sadly. Her heart appears so broken that I would have flown her back to Washington first class if she wanted me to, but a small part of me hopes it's pointless. "Yeah. Grandma lives way off the beaten path, and it takes hours to get there by car. I'd never make it in time."
I'm torn between relief and horror. On one hand, the last thing I want is for Noelle to have a miserable Christmas. On the other hand, it means she's staying. Here. With me.
"Then come on. Let's get you settled."
She doesn't argue and instead follows me to the guest bedroom. She takes her suitcase and sets it down by the door. When she crosses into the room, she lets out a soft, "Oh!"
I admit I haven't looked in the guest room except once when my niece first finished it, but I'm relieved to see that it looks perfect. A four-poster king bed is made up with fluffy white blankets and a dozen pillows. A large picture window overlooks the backyard, and a small gas fireplace is lit, ready to chase away any chill.
"I'm afraid the bathroom is across the hall, but it has a huge tub if you'd like to relax," I say. "My niece was determined to make sure the place was 'chic and cozy' or some bullshit."
"Well, she did a great job."
"Would you like a bath? Maybe some pajamas? Dinner?"
She blinks, surprised by the offer. "I'd love a hot shower and some clean clothes."
