That’s when she reached the corner and saw the motley collection of trees lined up in a Christmas tree stall.
She walked by slowly, breathing in the crisp pine scent. Then her gaze fell on theDAMAGED—50% OFFsign. It hung over the last section of the makeshift sidewalk stall, and while the rest were full of healthy, dense Scotch pines and Douglas firs, this one only had one lone tree left. Anne wasn’t sure you could even call it a tree, really, just a thick trunk with a few branches sticking outin odd directions. Still, it was tall and straight, as if begging to be noticed. Someone just needed to give it a chance.
It had seemed like a good idea at the time. The vendor had even thrown in the tree stand for free.
But now, two blocks from home and her grip slipping, it was clearly the stupidest idea she had ever had.
Where would she put it? The apartment was already crammed full of Cricket’s stuff—it barely had room for the few things she had moved in, let alone a Christmas tree. And what about decorations? And cleanup? Even its minimal needles would be murder on her bare feet when they fell off in January.
This is why I always need to stick to the plan, she chastised herself.The first time I try something impulsive and look where it gets me: sweating on a sidewalk, holding a tree. She should have paused and thought this through. How embarrassing to be stuck like this without—
“Do you need help with that?”
The deep voice was so close and so familiar that her heart seized, and she straightened before she could think better of it. It was a quick motion that sent the stand and the tree falling to the ground, leaving a halo of needles around her on the sidewalk.
Freddie was standing in front of her, staring down at the tree with morbid curiosity.
“No, I’m fine,” she managed to say. “I was just…”
Her words fizzled out as her eyes found Freddie again.
“You were…” he repeated.
Anne blinked. “Carrying a tree.”
He looked down at the collection of needles at their feet. “Does it have a Do Not Resuscitate order?”
She laughed, but she was so short of breath that it came out sounding like a long wheeze. “That’s… very funny.”
He smiled, too. “You sure you don’t need help?”
“No, it’s okay,” she said, waving him off. “I just… need to get it to the building. And into the elevator. And up to the apartment. It’s fine.”
She was almost impressed with how convincing she sounded, until Freddie threw her that look she had been so familiar with eight years ago, the one that told her she wasn’t fooling anyone, then stepped past her to take hold of the tree and hoist it over his shoulder in one easy motion.
It was only slightly hot.
“You all right?” he asked when he caught her expression.
She gaped up at him, then finally managed to say, “Yes. No. I mean. It’s a Christmas tree.”
“Yeah. I picked up on that,” he said, then motioned for her to walk with him toward their building.
She quickly picked up the tree stand and fell in line with his steps as they walked down the sidewalk to the Uppercross.
“Thank you,” she said as they entered the lobby. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I don’t mind,” he said. “I was heading home anyway.”
She nodded as they made their way over to the elevator, even though part of her wanted to poke holes in his rationale. He didn’t need to help. He could have walked by, and she wouldn’t have even noticed as she struggled. Then again, she couldn’t imagine Freddie ever walking by someone who needed help and not offering it. Even if that someone was an ex-girlfriend, or if he was wearing an obviously expensive coat that was now covered in sap, or—
“Oh my God,” Anne blurted out when she saw the streak of sticky liquid across his shoulder. “Freddie, your coat…”
The elevator doors opened as he looked down at the dark graywool. Then he shrugged. “That’s all right. I never liked this coat anyway.”
He pressed four and the doors closed. They rode up in silence until the doors opened again on the fourth floor.
“Thanks,” Anne said, turning to him and moving to take the tree from his hands. “I can take it from here.”
