The suggestion catches me off guard.
A real Christmas tree has been on my wishlist for years, but Garrett always talked me out of it. He thought real trees were messy, impractical, and a waste of time and money.
“Ihavealways wanted one,” I admit.
“So let’s do it, then!” Genna claps. “New tree, new traditions, new chapter.”
I hesitate, glancing down at my sad outfit. “I don’t know ... I’m not really presentable enough to go out in public right now.”
“So change.” She shrugs. “Take a shower. Maybe put on something that isn’t covered in tears and snot. And let’s go pick out the best dang tree in the lot.”
It’s clear she’s pulling out all the stops to cheer me up, which I appreciate. And the more I think about this idea, the more I realize how much Garrett wouldhatethis plan—which makes me want to follow through with it even more.
I nod. “Let’s do it.”
Genna beams. It’s clear she’s pleased that she was able to pull me out of my depression. At least for now. “Yes! There’s just one problem, though—I don’t know the first thing about picking out or setting up a real tree. Do you?”
I shake my head. “Not a clue.”
“We need an expert.” She pulls out her phone. “Someone who’s good with their hands. Someone who isn’t afraid to get dirty. Someone who has muscles and can help us carry it...”
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” I ask, already knowing the answer.
“Dylan,” we say in unison.
Genna’s already dialing his number before I can second-guess our plan. She puts the phone on speaker.
“What’s up, squirt?” Dylan’s voice fills the living room after just two rings.
“I need a favor,” Genna says. “Actually, Cheyenne needs a favor.”
There’s a beat of silence. “Is she okay?”
The concern in his voice makes my chest unexpectedly tighten.
“She will be,” Genna says, glancing at me. “But right now, she needs someone who can help pick out and set up a real Christmas tree. We’re thinking of heading to that tree farm about twenty minutes outside the city. You free this evening?”
“For Chey?” His response is immediate. “Of course. Text me the address, and I’ll meet you there in a bit.”
A genuine smile spreads across my face for the first time in days. There’s something comforting about his quick acceptance. And knowing that I have people in my corner who will show up without hesitation.
“Thanks, Dylan,” I say, my voice stronger than it’s been all day.
“Anytime,” he replies, and I can hear the smile in his voice. “See you soon.”
As Genna ends the call, I feel a sudden flutter of anticipation.
“I’m gonna go shower,” I say, looking down at my disheveled state.
“Good plan.” Genna smiles.
As I head toward the bathroom, I catch a glimpse of myself in the hallway mirror. I still look like a hot mess express, but something seems ... different now. I spot a tiny spark in my eye that wasn’t there before. Maybe it’s hope, or maybe it’s just the reflection of the Christmas lights Genna strung up.
Either way, it’s a start.
Chapter Seven
Dylan
