Page 31 of Wintering with George

“Holy crap,” Brad said, chuckling. “This is not what I was—oh, that’s really nice.”

It was the tree. Not a real one, but a big artificial one that had to be fifteen feet, strung with white lights. I hated that. I liked multicolored lights, and I preferred real trees. And I knew there was a big debate over that. The people who had tree farms needed people to buy real ones, and if everyone bought fake ones, then what would happen to the farmers? Used Christmas trees could be composted, which was good, but if everyone had the fake ones—and kept them—then that was probably better for the environment. I didn’t know what was best from an environmental/supporting-tree-farmers standpoint, but for me, I had to have a real tree.

The first year Kurt and I were together, he was going to bust out his fake one from the basement, but the look on my face had stopped him.

“Couldn’t we go get a real one? I love the smell of a real tree in the house.”

He’d smiled and nodded, and this year, there had not even been a discussion. We had gone and gotten a real one that we decorated together. What was amazing was that even though we were going out of town this year, we still got a real one that he made sure someone, who turned out to be Hannah, came and watered. It would still be good by the time we returned before New Year’s.

Turning into him now, he appeared happily surprised when I wrapped him in my arms.

“You’re happy that normally at home we have a real tree with those garish colored lights you like, aren’t you?”

I pressed my face down on his shoulder.

“You know it makes me insanely happy that all the things you were denied when you were younger, I can do for you now.”

“You have a savior complex,” I told him, holding him tighter.

“Where you’re concerned, most certainly,” he agreed and kissed the side of my neck.

I finally felt safe enough to breathe.

The outside of the cabin was just as impressive as the inside. There was a huge wraparound deck with enormous fans, which were probably great in summer, as well as built-in heaters for sitting outside when the snow started to fall, which it had just started to do. The rain had first turned to the freezing kind, and now, to snow. It was nice to walk outside and look at the fat, fluffy snowflakes start to accumulate on the railing but come no farther in due to the heaters.

Kurt had to let the dogs out and then dry them off from the snow, and while he did that, I went looking for pet supplies. Next to the kitchen, there was a massive walk-in pantry and storage room, and I found a fancy automatic cat box. I put it in the guest bathroom, and after Bubs christened it, we both found out that it did, in fact, self-clean.

“Just as I thought—fancy,” I told my cat, who did not look impressed. He chirped his disdain, then went off to explore.

I found dog food and cat food, which I appreciated, and treats, which I gave the dogs but not Bubs, who did not respond to me calling for him. When I looked, I found him crossing the beams. I worried for a moment before it occurred to me that he was a cat, after all, and had far superior balance to mine.

The boys picked a room next to Kurt and me, and though they had separate ones at home, they were fine to bunk together. Plus, there were two queen beds, so it worked out great. There were four bedrooms total, all on the second floor. It was like a loft. There were metal stairs with glass sides so you couldn’t fall, which was not giving log-cabin vibes at all, and then a long balcony with doors leading into the rooms. Each had its own bathroom, huge windows, and the largest one, at the end of the hallway, had an attached balcony. I insisted Brad and Thomasin take that one.

“George, you and Kurt⁠—”

“No,” I said flatly. “You need to decompress, and I think sitting on that private balcony, next to a heater, with some coffee, might be a good thing.”

I didn’t add that from a protection standpoint, I needed to be at the top of the stairs. If anyone breached the house, I would make my stand there and kill anyone who tried to get past me. But I didn’t need to scare her more than she already was, so I stayed quiet.

She was overwhelmed with me wanting her to have the largest bedroom and started weeping, and Brad put his arm around her and walked her down to their room. Halfway there, she gasped, and when I looked, I too saw that the snow that had been a light flurry moments before was now a shower of white.

“It’s so beautiful here.”

It did look like some enchanted forest with the redwoods, oaks, and pine trees getting slowly covered in snow.

“Whoever wakes up first gets breakfast going,” Kurt called to his sister. “I checked the refrigerator and pantry, and it’s fully stocked.”

“Of course it is,” Thomasin said with a sigh. “These are George’s friends, after all.”

It was a nice compliment.

Thomasin and Brad tucked the boys into bed, and they were asleep in seconds.

And now there was only the sound of the dogs downstairs, walking around, checking the house, and Bubs doing zoomies on the first floor.

In our room, I walked over to the king-size bed and flopped down on top of it.

“No,” Kurt scolded me. “Get up, take off your clothes, and get under the covers. I need a shower, and then I’ll join you.”