One
Thanksgiving night…
“Tate! Don’t forget the ornament box!” ReillyJameson yelled loud enough for Tate Riggs, her best friend/roommate, to hear from up in the loft space they used as a makeshift attic.
“Which one?” he shouted back.
“The one with the ornaments,” she muttered because she had no idea.
When they’d taken down the decorations at her parents’ house last year, Reilly had been too upset to pay attention to the ones her mother set aside for when they moved into their new place. If she had to guess, her mother hadn’t paid much attention either. Their hearts had been too heavy to deal with much of anything.
But she wasn’t going to think about that now. This year, the entire family vowed to keep their spirits up. Reilly knew it wouldn’t be as easy as it sounded, but she would certainly try.
To prove it, she was starting by kicking off her annual tradition of decorating the tree now that they’d scarfed down turkey, dressing, and a ridiculous number of pies, signifying that Thanksgiving was officially over. She’d even bypassed a second piece of pumpkin pie to ensure she wasn’t too full to move.
Of course, she’d snuck a couple of additional pieces when her mother wasn’t looking and put them in Tupperware so she and Tate could have breakfast tomorrow morning.
The kettle whistled on the stove.
“I’m makin’ the hot chocolate,” she yelled to Tate.
“Make mine a double,” he called, sounding as though he was no longer buried deep in their boxes of crap.
“A double.Pfft. Like I would ever be that stingy.”
After pouring the hot milk over the powdered chocolate in each cup, Reilly stirred and added a generous helping of Bailey’s chocolate liqueur. Next came the peppermint candy canes. She stuck one in each cup, then shoved her hand into the bag of miniature marshmallows and grabbed a handful. She held her hands over the cups and let the little white puffs of sugary, airy goodness rain down onto both cups, grinning as they piled up and tumbled onto the counter.
She was tossing stray marshmallows in the air and attempting to catch them with her mouth—most of them missing—and drizzling chocolate syrup on the ones in the cup when Tate finally appeared, huffing and grimacing as he carried two enormous boxes and one smaller one in his arms.
“Take one,” he grunted. “Please.”
Reilly set down the chocolate syrup and rushed over to help her best friend.
“Tell me one of those is the right one,” he said when she relieved him of the small box before grabbing one of the larger ones.
“Probably.”
Tate dragged the lid off the box he had set on the coffee table and sighed. “Not this one.”
Reilly leaned over to look in the box and laughed when she saw the ugly Christmas sweaters they’d bought last year. She grabbed the one on top and unfolded it, holding it up to her chest.
“We’re wearin’ these this year,” she said adamantly as she fumbled for the little controller that would turn the dangling, colored bulbs and Rudolph’s nose on.
“Of course we are.” A goofy grin formed as Tate pulled his out and dragged it over his head. “What do you think?”
They’d gone all out last year and found a couple of rather hideous sweaters in an effort to cheer themselves up. It hadn’t worked—the cheering up part—but they’d struck ugly sweater gold. Tate’s was eye-catching green with little white snowflakes embroidered all over it and green tinsel draped back and forth from arm to arm. The miniature red and green ornaments that hung from the tinsel jingled when he moved.
In contrast to his, hers was red, with Rudolph’s face taking up the entire front. A string of lights was draped on the antlers, a big red bulb nose was in the center, and a green and blue striped scarf dangled down from around his neck.
“I think you look mah-velous, dah-ling,” she drawled dramatically as she shoved her arms into hers. “And me?”
“Mah-velous, sweetie,” he echoed before walking over to the Christmas tree to plug it in. “Oh, thank God. They all work.”
Considering the tree was twelve feet tall—something she had insisted on getting now that they had their new place—they would’ve been hard-pressed to string it with lights if it hadn’t been designed with them already on it.
Reilly chuckled. “Best invention ever.”
“The pre-lit tree?” He turned to face her and put a hand on his hip. “I’m not sure I agree.”
