I dragged my fingers under my eyes as the tears started yet again. All I wanted to do was turn around and drive back to the hospital so I could stare at the baby, and then hug my sister for the miracle she’d grown. But she was tired and the only person she wanted around other than Ryan was my mom.
I decided the best way to commemorate this upside-downday was to get outside in what was left of the daylight for a hike with Birdie and Edith. I didn’t want to be in my apartment, partly because it didn’t feel Christmasy, but mainly because I wanted to be somewhere where I could rejoice in the fact that the world was bigger and more beautiful than I could ever comprehend. The snow-frosted trees and hushed trails would be ours alone while the rest of the world celebrated.
Mainly, I wanted to stay busy so my brain didn’t drift to thoughts of Andrew. Because I’d finally responded to his last text, to ask what he meant about the night on the boat, and never received a response.
When I arrived home I was greeted at the door by two very merry pups in need of a potty break. I hustled them outside, then ran back upstairs so I could change from my hastily thrown-on sweats to hiking gear. I made sure to stuff my pockets with tissues since I knew the combination of overwhelming emotions and beautiful views would one hundred percent lead to more tears. I was pulling on my socks when Birdie alerted to someone in the hallway, then went into full-frenzy barking when there was a knock on the door.
It could only be my mom, stopping by on the way home from the hospital. I jogged to the door, wrenched it open, and almost ran into a miniature Christmas tree being thrust at me.
Andrew.
I hadn’t even dared to hope that I’d see him, which meant that my brain couldn’t quite process why he was on my doorstep looking unsure. Nervous even. My moment of awe was interrupted by a cavalcade at our feet, barking at him until he reached into his pocket, pulled out a handful of treats, and then scattered them down the hall.
“That’s my move,” I laughed as Birdie and Edith skidded along the wood floor to collect their bounty.
“I know it is, where do you think I learned it?”
I watched the dogs sniff around for the treats. It was the perfect distraction to give me a few seconds to try to compose myself, because my entire body felt electrified with him standing so close. When I looked back at Andrew he was watching me, not with a glare, but with soft, questioning eyes, like he wasn’t sure what to do next.
“I brought this for you,” he said, holding the tree out to me. “I thought you needed a little holiday spirit in here.”
“Andrew, thank you. It’s perfect.”
The little tree was heavier than I’d anticipated, in a galvanized pot and decorated with tiny white fairy lights, a few pine cones, and red berries, like he’d stumbled on it outside during a walk.
“It’s a live dwarf Alberta spruce. You can plant it,” he said earnestly. I was reminded of Andrew the Christmas tree expert, just one of the layers I’d discovered in the person I thought I had all figured out.
My body was yearning to touch him like we’d been apart for months. All I wanted to do was press myself against him and forget about all of the static that had been keeping us at odds. But we still had so much to sort out if we expected to make sense of what had happened between us, and what was to come next.
I finally realized that I was being a terrible hostess when he leaned against the doorframe. “Sorry, do you want to come in?”
“Vampire rules.” He chuckled and pointed at the threshold. “I was waiting until I was invited.”
I stepped back, and Edith slipped past me to welcome him with a few hops.
“Hey, Bug, Merry Christmas. This is for you.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out the fattest bully stick I’d ever seen, which she snatched from his hand. “Birdie? I’ve got one for you too.”
Bird wandered over and gently accepted it with a grateful wag.
Andrew seemed unsure of himself, perhaps for the first time ever, shifting from one foot to the other in the small vestibule. “I was hoping we could talk.”
“Same,” I answered quickly, accidentally stepping on his words. “Let’s sit.”
I led him into the front room, where the oversized windows made my apartment feel like we were in a freshly shaken snow globe. The snow coming down was the pretty, melt-on-contact type that ensured perfect vibes without hazardous road conditions. The view out the windows plus the addition of the little tree on the ledge transformed my pathetic apartment into a winter wonderland.
“How did you know I’d be here?” I asked as I planted myself in the corner of my couch, a safe distance from Andrew.
A sheepish smile. “I sort of staked out your place. Sorry if that’s creepy.”
As if anything he did could be creepy. “But what about Christmas? Your family...” I trailed off, realizing how fraught the holiday would be for him now that he had the move on the horizon. My heart clenched at the thought of my role in his family tension.
“We had a nice Christmas Eve at my place last night, andthey’re headed to my uncle’s in a couple hours for Christmas dinner. I, uh, opted out.”
“Uncle Teddy?” I asked, remembering the man who’d triggered the Thanksgiving meltdown.
His mouth went into a tight line. “Yup.”
“Good call.”
