Then I hear Fiona’s voice call out, “Shathar? Khesan?”
I had hoped to keep this a surprise, but I suppose now is as good a time as any to show off what we procured. She comes around the corner as Khesan backs away, and her blue eyes grow huge.
“What on earth? What is a tree doing here?”
Khesan proudly crosses his arms. “We found one for you,” he says, and I hiss at him, raising my fans.
“It was my idea,” I snarl.
He shrugs. “I helped you.”
“Where did you get it?” Fiona’s mouth forms a circle. “It’s big. And fresh.”
“Nearby,” I say with a shrug. “I got a good one, though, didn’t I?”
She frowns. “Nearby?”
I am still holding up the tree, but my arms are getting tired. “Is there a way to keep this upright?” I ask.
“Oh, yeah. A tree stand. I’ve got one in the attic.” Fiona disappears up the stairs, then we hear a few banging noises before she returns with an odd wire object in her hands and a white string attached to her hair. She bats the string away, muttering, “Damned cobwebs,” before she brings over the stand.
Khesan and I lift up the tree together, then she positions the device and we lower the trunk in. The tree sits perfectly, now able to stand on its own.
“Wow,” Fiona says with a smile. “So cheery in here!”
My fans raise in pleasure. I knew this was a good idea.
“Okay, wait.” She furrows her brow. “Did you buy this?”
“We cut it down,” says Khesan, producing the blade with the handle.
“You found my saw?” Her brows lower even more. “Where did you get the tree from?”
“Close by,” I repeat.
She groans. “Don’t tell me. You chopped down one of my neighbors’ trees, didn’t you?”
My mouth opens, then closes again, because I think that is exactly what we did.
“Is that… bad?” Khesan asks.
Fiona closes her eyes and drops her head into her hands. “That is definitely bad.”
Vakha.
Khesan glares at me as Fiona lets out a drawn-out sigh, then raises her head again.
“Well, hopefully they don’t have a security camera,” she says with a half smile. “Maybe I should just send them a few hundred bucks.”
Khesan growls. “You should not have to pay for our mistake.”
“I will work,” I say. “I will get a job to pay for the tree.”
Fiona waves her hands at both of us. “Shush.” She turns to the Christmas tree again. “It really is a nice one. I guess we should decorate it over the weekend, huh?”
Khesan shoots me one last dirty look, but it seems as if we’ve been forgiven.
That evening after dinner, Fiona goes up into the attic again and instructs us each to carry a large box down to the Christmas tree. The boxes are full of baubles, all which are bright-colored and look quite delicate.
