“Hot stuff, coming through!” Morrie swung down the staircase in a Santa apron, holding a platter of Christmas goodies. He winked at Quoth and dashed into the main room.
“What’s going on?” I asked Quoth.
He shrugged his wings. “Croak?”
A lump rose in my throat as I followed Morrie into the main room. I gasped. In the short time we’d been gone, the space had been transformed. A respectable-sized tree stood in the window, decked out with strings of tinsel and a few glass baubles. Underneath it, presents stacked as high as the windowsill – all the charity gifts from the town neatly arranged. Morrie stood behind Heathcliff’s brand new desk, pouring Champagne into flutes and fussing over a dazzling array of treats – bowls of sweets and chocolate reindeer, crackers and cheese. A small pile of gifts I didn’t recognize from the charity lay at the front of the tree. As I bent to examine the scrawled labels, my heart skipped.
TO THE ANNOYING BIRD
TO THE WORLD’S WORST ENTREPRENEUR
TO THE NOSY OLD BIDDY
TO MY OBNOXIOUS FLATMATE
Across the bottom of each tag was a familiar and wonderful scrawl. FROM HEATHCLIFF.
He did this. He made Christmas for me.
I knelt back, tears of joy pooling in my eyes as I searched the room for Heathcliff. A dark figure crouched by the fire. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t seen him when I walked in, but I’d been so distracted by everything. He blew on the logs and stood back. A warming fire roared to life.
“Heathcliff.” I threw myself in his arms.
“It’s no fuss,” he muttered. But he pulled me closer, his lips finding mine for a scorching, possessive kiss. A kiss that promised my Christmas treats had only just begun.
I pulled back to catch my breath and wipe my eyes. “This is amazing. How did you do all this?”
“It’s not a big thing. While you were running around after that dog yesterday, I walked over to the tree place and chose a sensibly-sized tree, carried it home, and hid it in the office. We’re never going to get rid of the needles in there now, but I’ve decided to just close the door and never enter until next bloody Christmas. I gave Morrie some money to take care of the food. We didn’t have time to buy decorations, but I salvaged those ones from the cat.“ Heathcliff nodded at the tinsel on the tree. A rare, genuine smile lit up his gruff face. “Do you like it?”
My voice cracked. “I love it. I—”
“Yoohoo, Merry Christmas.” Mum walked in, laden down with a stack of presents and a box of her Bedazzling Bethlehem decorations. “Oh, look at that poor empty tree. Luckily, I’ve got lots of things to brighten it up.” She started pulling out all kinds of sparkling things.
“Champagne, Helen?” Morrie held out two flutes.
“Don’t mind if I do. Mina, come help me with these decorations.”
Reluctantly, I let go of Heathcliff and collected my flute from Morrie. Mum had found a tiny Santa hat in the stack and perched it on Quoth’s head. “Mum, what are you going to do with all those boxes of decorations now Christmas is over?”
Mum beamed at me. She dug a pamphlet out of her pocket and thrust it under my face. “I thought you might want them to enter this! It’s this World of Wearable Arts Award in New Zealand. I saw it on the telly. People make these amazing costumes and wear them on stage and there are tens of thousands of dollars in prize money. There’s a whole category for sparkling and glowing costumes, so I figured that would be perfect for you—”
“That does sound very cool, but why would I enter something like that? I told you I’m not continuing with fashion. I love my job—”
“Oh, Mina, you can’t work in this stuffy bookshop forever.” Mum leaned forward, her eyes dancing. “Unless… you don’t think Morrie will go in for a Christmas proposal?”
I choked on my mouthful of Champagne. Bubbles shot up my nose. Behind me, Heathcliff snorted. Morrie, thankfully, was in the hallway greeting Mrs. Ellis and Jonie, and hadn’t heard her.
I hadn’tofficiallytold Mum that I was dating all three guys. I hadn’t been hiding it, but in typical Mum fashion she chose to see what she wanted, which was that I was madly in love with rich, successful Morrie, who would sweep me off my feet in a whirlwind romance, marry me, and then keep his mother-in-law in the fashionable manner to which she intended to become accustomed.
I snatched the pamphlet from her hand. “What? Mum,no. And don’t suggest it, either. I’m not ready to get married.”
Especially since I had three boyfriends and I couldn’t marry all of them.
“Nonsense! You’re young and in love, and Morrie is perfect for you.” Mum dug around in her box, pulling out something green and waving it about in triumph. “Ah-hah! I knew I had some mistletoe in here. I’m going to go hang this over the door. Then Morrie won’t have a choice but to make his move.”
“Mum, please—” But it was too late. She trotted off, trailing a string of mistletoe behind her.
After drinks and snacks were handed out, we gathered around the fire and exchanged gifts. Quoth presented me with the most beautiful painting – a portrait of me sitting in the velvet chair, reading a stack of my favorite books while a row of white skulls grinned down at me from the shelf above. I immediately made Heathcliff bang a nail in the office wall so we could hang it up. Quoth beamed to see how much I loved it, and his smile burned brighter than all the Christmas lights in the shop.
