“Oh, look at this. It’s a framed picture of a little girl.” The frame had a red ribbon threaded through the filigree edges. “I wonder who she was.” He glanced at the back. Covered in red felt, it revealed nothing. “Take a look.” He handed it to Clara.
“Oh my gosh.” Her hand flew to her mouth. “That’s me. I must have been about five. My mom must have sent my school picture to Aunt Tilly.” She brushed away a tear.
“Don’t be sad. Maybe you didn’t know her, but she knew about you, and cared enough to hang your picture on her tree every year.” He reached out and squeezed her hand. He’d take her in his arms if he thought she’d let him. Using her aunt’s decorations must be an emotional roller coaster.
She sniffed again. “You’re right. I need to focus on the positive.”
That wasn’t what he had meant, but if it brought her comfort, he was glad. He squeezed her hand again. She squeezed back. “Shall we see what other treasures there are?” he asked. He knew well the mixed emotions of unsettled memories.
“Let’s do that.” She strode to the tree and hung the ornament, dead center in the front. She stroked her finger down the frame and it rocked gently before falling still.
An hour later, the tree was finished. Santas, glittery balls, snowmen. All manner of decorations covered the tree. There were even macaroni angels, but her favorites, aside from her own picture, were the dozen wooden nutcrackers.
Zane packed the tissues into a box, nesting the boxes inside each other, then carried them back to the attic. Jogging down the stairs, he was hit with inspiration.
“Hey, I have an idea. Come out here.” He led Clara into the entry hall. “Look at those tiny hooks up there.” He pointed to a line of finishing nails surrounding the entire room. “We could string lights around the room, or maybe hang some pine garland and dangle the antique decorations from ribbons. They’d be safe way up there, and a nice visual treat for anyone who looks up. What do you say?”
She clapped her hands and wiggled in place like an excited child. “Yes. I say, yes.” She flung her arms around him in an enthusiastic hug and pecked him on the cheek. Refusing to miss the chance to hold her, he hugged her back, careful to keep his hands in safe territory.
“I’ll have to buy some more lights. We used them all on the tree. I do have garland.”
“Your aunt didn’t have more? I would have guessed there would be lights for the eaves outside and those hooks indicate that someone decorated out here.”
“I put a few lights on the porch posts outside, but the rest of the outside ones are probably in the shed out back. I haven’t started cleaning out there yet. I only hung the few I found. I’ll check for more first thing tomorrow. A lot of the inside lights were too old to keep. I wondered at their safety. I’ll get more. How do we hang the crystals in the window? String? Thread? Oh, I know! Fishing line.”
“Do you have any?”
“There’s a tackle box upstairs. I have no idea why it was in the house instead of the shed, but there’s probably line in it.”
“Do you have finishing nails? Tiny ones? I could tap a nail in each corner of the window frame and string line between them.”
“And we’ll hang the crystals from the line. We can do it after supper. If you don’t mind helping me. I’m sorry I’m monopolizing your time. You should be writing.”
He placed a hand on her shoulder. “Miss Clara, if I didn’t want to help you, I’d have said no. I’m enjoying helping you get ready for Christmas. I swear. And I’m enjoying your company as well. Why don’t you find a hammer, nails, and line while I get my stew going? It’ll need to simmer for a few hours. I should have started it earlier. Dinner will be late. Unless you want me to cook tomorrow instead.”
“Ha. You’re not getting out of it that easily. Late dinner it is. I’ll fix us a snack.”
