He turned in his seat until he was able to look into her eyes.“Would your grandmother want this for you?She loved the holidays.I remember when we were kids how she would decorate the front yard and the porch.Do you remember that giant snowman she had?And it wasn’t one of the blow-up kind.It was solid plastic.That thing used to scare me.”
Holly let out a laugh.“Me too.”
He arched a brow.“Really?”When she nodded, he said, “I thought I was the only one.Do you still have it?”
“Are you kidding?It’s one of the first things I got rid of when I cleaned out the garage.Would you believe some family bought it at the yard sale?”
“I hope they didn’t have kids.”
“Actually, they had two littles.”
Colin groaned.“Those poor kids.”
“I know.”
He smiled at her.He loved being able to share these memories with her.“What do you say?Wanna get a tree?”
She sighed.“Okay.I’ll do it for Gran.But I can’t promise I’ll be able to find the decorations.”
“One problem at a time.”
As he got out of the pickup, he realized she wasn’t going to have much of a Christmas.Now that her grandmother was gone, she probably didn’t feel that it mattered.But it did matter.She mattered.More than he was willing to admit.
She met him in front of the pickup.She carried Tater Tot.He noticed she kept petting the pup.She was getting attached.He could see it, but he didn’t know if she had realized it yet.He wasn’t going to mention it.He didn’t want her defenses to go up.He knew how much puppy love could help heal broken hearts.He’d seen the transformation time and time again.
Holly didn’t say it, but he could see the loss of her grandmother had left her broken.He felt guilty for being so caught up in his own life that he hadn’t realized she needed a friend—a good friend.
They entered the busy tree lot.Strings of lights were strung high in the air.And on the speakers “We Wish You a Merry Christmas” played.There were big pine trees and small ones.There were fat ones and skinny ones.Blue spruce and scotch pines.There were firs and so many more.And all were dusted with a fresh coating of snow.
“What do you think?”He walked next to her, taking in the many Christmas trees.
“I don’t know.There are so many.”
Then he had an idea to get this process started.“What sort of tree did you and your grandmother get?”
“She had an artificial that we put up every year.”
“Oh.”He hadn’t foreseen that answer.“Do you want to put that up instead?”
She shook her head.“It sold at the yard sale.”
“Oh.”He realized that he kept saying the same thing, but she kept surprising him with her answers.He cleared his throat and tried again.“Do you have a particular type of tree in mind?”
“I don’t know.”She looked around.“Maybe it should be something small?”
“Why?”He didn’t care, but he was curious about her line of thought.
“I don’t know.”She shrugged.“That way I can tuck it away in a corner where it’s out of the way.”
He thought about trying to convince her that a big, bold tree would light up the room, but he ultimately changed his mind.As long as she picked out a tree, even if it was a Charlie Brown tree, he’d be happy.After all, he was always telling his patients’ parents to take recovery slowly, one step at a time.
When she didn’t pick out a tree or even show any interest in any of the trees, he took a more active role.He purposely picked out an imperfect tree.“What about this one?”
She walked over to the tree that he gestured toward.She walked the whole way around it.“Not this one.”
“Why?”
Her nose crinkled up.“Didn’t you see the big holes between the branches?There’s one on this side and one on the other side.”
