He laughs. “Still. I want to read it!”
I squish up my nose. I’ve backed myself into a corner here, because TJ’s right. He deserves to read the story that he inspired, whether it makes me supremely uncomfortable or not. The only person I have to blame for all of this is me. And maybe Cassie, for forcing me into going to the gala. Then again, if I hadn’t gone, I wouldn’t have met TJ, and I can’t say I’m sorry about that.
I don’t vocalize any of this right now. I’m not so fond of the idea of laying my muddled heart out for him to see in the middle of this Christmas tree farm, charming as the setting is.
I plaster on a mask of faux confidence and say, “Fine. I’ll share a copy of the book with you after it’s published, but that won’t be till late next year.”
“You’re going to make me wait that long.” TJ pouts.
“It’ll be worth the wait. I promise.”
The warmth in his gaze thaws the remaining bits of ice shrapnel coating my heart. “I don’t doubt that.”
Chapter 26
TJ
That escalated quickly.That’s all I can think as Lucy holds the back door to my house open for me.
Five hours ago, I was on a date with another woman. Four hours ago, Anton texted me that Lucy was at Mood Reader. Three and a half hours ago, Lucy told me she’s an author. I told her about Tess, and somehow, I felt lighter and more willing to get to living than I have in years.
So here I am, with a giant Christmas tree.
We stopped to get a tree stand on our way from Mapleton to Green Bay because I own no such thing. Lucy bustles inside with it now as I remain in the entryway of the living room.
“Can I take down your fake tree?”
“Please do.” Gram scoots in the back door with Pa hot on her heels. “That thing is a bigger eyesore than Susie’s carbuncle.”
I wanted Lucy to have a full Christmas tree farm day experience, which is why I let my grandparents know I needed their help. They were all too willing to drive across town and meet us here for an impromptu tree decorating party.
Gram appraises the tree, giving it a nod of approval. “This will be quite an improvement.” She hurries into the living room to help Lucy.
They move the table I had the old tree propped up on and get the stand situated. A minute later, I have the fresh tree in place. The spicy scent from the boughs and the crisp cold we brought in with us fill my small home.
“Looks good, son.” Pa claps me on the shoulder. He doesn’t say anything else. He doesn’t have to. He knows this is hard for me. He’s proud of me for taking this step. He and Gram—let’s be real, mostly Gram—have been on my case about my lack of enthusiasm for the holiday season for several years.
I catch his eye, and questions furrow the lines on his brow, likely wondering what changed. Why did I suddenly let Christmas back into my life now?
The answer lies in the woman standing across the room, gently running her fingers over the needles on one of the tree’s branches while Gram chatters away about her neighbor’s hairless cat.
“The thing is mean, I tell ya. No one wants to visit over there. Pity the unsuspecting visitor who gets caught in that beast’s crosshairs … or lack of hair, I should say.”
Lucy is being a good sport, making consolatory sounds in response. She reaches over to the bookshelf and moves the photo of Tess in the frame toward the front. She catches me staring at her, and she raises her brows, seeking permission. My entire body relaxes. It means a lot to me that she understands the line I’m straddling, trying to honor Tess while not overlooking her loss. It’s something I’ll navigate my whole life. Lucy seems to have a keen sense of how to help me walk this road.
“Who wants hot cocoa?” I ask.
Both Lucy and Gram’s hands shoot up, and they dissolve into giggles like two peas in a pod. Something that was tightly wound in my chest loosens ever so slightly at the sight of them together.
“I’ll take a mug, too, TJ.”
I wrench my attention away from the women in the room and face my grandpa.
“I’m going to go grab that box of ornaments from the car.” He starts for the door.
“Want me to get it, Pa?”
He shakes his head. “It’s not that heavy.”
