Ethan stooped to pick up the picnic basket and the cardboard box. Struggling to balance the two, he headed out the door. “Have a good time, and try not to knit me anything too embarrassing, okay?” he called over his shoulder, only half-joking.
As he trudged toward his truck, he could feel George’s eyes following him from the window. He looked back at the house, and there George was, watching out the back window. He could have sworn the cat’s smirk grew even wider.
When he arrived at the cabin, he knocked on the door, balancing the items in his arms.
Ginger opened the door, looking surprised. “I didn’t realize you’d be bringing things over.”
“My mom sent some food.” Ethan held out the picnic basket, and Ginger took it then motioned for him to come inside.
“The solution for the trees will be done in just ten more minutes.” Ginger peeked into the picnic basket. “Oh wow, it smells delicious! What’s in here?”
“I’m not sure. I think it’s chicken pot pie.”
Ginger’s gaze drifted to the box Ethan was still holding. “What’s in there?”
“Ornaments,” he replied, opening the box to reveal an assortment of colorful, glittering decorations. “Mom thought your tree needed some trimming.”
Ginger’s face lit up. “Oh, this is perfect! I actually haven’t decorated a tree in years, believe it or not.”
Neither had Ethan, though he didn’t say so.
Ginger set the picnic basket on the table and grabbed the box from him. After setting it in her lap, she opened the top and started pulling out ornaments. Ethan found himself smiling at her enthusiasm, but he quickly rearranged his face into his grumpy expression.
Ethan leaned against the wall, arms crossed, and watched Ginger take the ornaments out of the box. She held them delicately, as if they were precious jewels, and Ethan could see why. They were older ones he remembered from his childhood. He had forgotten about them until now.
“That one,” he said, pointing to a red-and-green-striped ball. “My sister and I fought over who got to put it on the tree every year.”
Ginger grinned and hung it on a branch. “I can see why. It’s lovely.”
They continued like that, Ethan describing something he remembered about each ornament as Ginger placed it on the tree—the glass icicles that always made him nervous as a child, the felt Santa Claus that was starting to show its age, and the angel with a broken wing that his mother had always said added character to the tree.
As they worked, Even found himself reliving his childhood through the ornaments. The memories came flooding back, and he couldn’t help but smile. Ginger turned on some music, and the sound of Christmas carols filled the air. The scent of pine needles from the tree made it feel like the perfect holiday scene.
As they admired the ornaments, the three orange kittens scampered around Ethan’s feet, their playful antics causing him to chuckle. Without thinking, he bent down to pet them, momentarily forgetting his grumpy façade. Luckily, Ginger was too preoccupied with the ornaments to notice.
She wheeled over to the tree, her eyes gleaming with excitement. As she tried to hang a glitter-covered ornament on a branch, it quickly became apparent that her wheelchair made it difficult to reach the tree properly. Ethan, seeing her struggle, rushed over to help her without a second thought.
“Here, let me give you a hand,” he offered, taking the ornament from her and placing it on the branch.
“Thanks, Ethan,” Ginger said gratefully, handing him another ornament and wheeling around to find the perfect spot for it.
The kittens’ playful antics underfoot had become increasingly chaotic. Suddenly, one of them shot out in front of Ginger’s path. She lurched the chair sideways, bumping into the table that held the tree.
The tree started to lean…
Ethan’s reflexes kicked in, and he lunged to grab the tree before it toppled. As he secured it, he found himself face-to-face with Ginger, their noses mere inches apart.
Ethan’s heart raced, and for a brief moment, he pictured himself leaning in for a kiss. But just as quickly as the thought had come, he jumped back, his eyes wide with surprise. What was he thinking? He didn’t want to get involved, did he?
The spell of the scene was broken, and the cozy, intimate atmosphere had dissipated. Ethan cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure. “Uh, I should get that solution out to the trees,” he stammered, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment.
Ginger, seemingly unaware of the moment they’d almost shared, nodded in agreement. “Of course, I’ll grab it for you. We don’t want to waste any more time.”
Ethan breathed a sigh of relief, grateful for the return to normalcy. As he prepared to head out to the trees, he couldn’t help but wonder what had come over him. Was it the holiday spirit, or was it something more?
Ethan stepped out into the cold, crisp night, bundled up in his down jacket. The moon and stars cast a silvery glow across the snow-covered landscape, and the haunting calls of owls echoed through the frosty air. As he breathed, his breath fogged up in front of his face, a testament to the frigid temperatures. The warmth of the cottage seemed a distant memory as he crunched through the snow on the tree farm, a bucket of Ginger’s serum and several large garden syringes in hand.
Following Ginger’s instructions, Ethan set about applying the solution directly to the roots of the balsam fir trees, injecting life back into the struggling grove. As he worked, he couldn’t help but pause at one particular spot—a place he and Sarah had considered their special hideaway. In the past, a pair of birds had made their home in the nesting box that hung nearby and had returned year after year.
