Instead, I said, "Tomorrow afternoon. After we finish organizing the volunteer shifts."
Her smile was radiant. "Perfect. We'll make this place feel like home."
Her determined tone made something shift in my chest—solid and right, like when a joint finally seats properly and you know it'll hold.
AFTER SPENDING THEmorning coordinating shifts for wrapping, December 16th afternoon found us at Henderson's Tree Farm on the outskirts of Hope Peak.
Candi bounced between the rows of evergreens with boundless energy, pointing out options and debating their merits. "This one's too skinny. Oh, but this one is perfect! Wait, no—look at that one!"
I followed behind, hands in my pockets, amused despite myself. She approached the hunt like a kid in a candy store while I was doing mental calculations about ceiling height and tree stand stability.
"How about this one?" She gestured at a massive Douglas fir.
"Too big."
"This one's beautiful though!"
"They're all evergreens, Candi."
She laughed and moved down the row. "What about this one?"
I looked it over. "That'll work."
She circled it, examining from every angle. "You're sure? You don't sound excited."
"I'm excited," I said, completely deadpan.
She laughed, swatting my arm. "Liar. Come on, old man. Show some Christmas spirit."
"I'm forty-two, not eighty."
"I know." Her eyes sparkled with mischief. "But you act like getting a Christmas tree is a chore instead of fun."
"It's an evergreen. We put it in the house, decorate it, then throw it out in three weeks."
"Wow. You really know how to kill the magic." But she was smiling. "Okay, Scrooge. What would you do if I told you I wanted to get matching ornaments? Maybe themed? Ooh, or we could do a whole color scheme—silver and blue to match your eyes!"
"Absolutely not."
"What about a tree skirt? I saw some really cute ones with—"
"Candi."
"—reindeer on them! Or we could get one that plays music!"
"Now you're just messing with me."
She grinned, unrepentant. "Maybe. But you should see your face. You look like I suggested setting the tree on fire."
"Don't give me ideas."
"Such a Grinch." She patted my arm consolingly. "Don't worry, I'll get your heart to grow three sizes by Christmas."
"That sounds medically dangerous."
She burst out laughing, and something warm settled in my chest despite myself. "Okay, fine. You win. This one. Plain lights. Whatever ornaments don't offend your masculine sensibilities. Deal?"
"Deal."
