Page 5

Except this was a big change. A change in the routine he’d clung to this past year like a life preserver. And major changes, no matter how welcome, ignited in him a desire to drink.

Sweat trickled down his spine. His body was on fire, the shallow sun beating down on him in that way that could make a day feel ten degrees warmer than it actually was. But for Bradley, that felt like thirty. He wished he had another shirt he could remove.

Lana noticed his discomfort first—although, naturally, Sara was only a few seconds behind. “Now that we’ve finished with the heavy lifting, why don’t we take a break and do something to make this place feel homier?”

“What do you have in mind?” he asked.

“I’m thinking…decorating contest!”

Sara squealed in agreement.

And Bradley’s shoulders softened for the first time all day. He might not be a third twin (a triplet?), but his sisters still seemed to know him inside and out—their ignorance of his alcohol use disorder notwithstanding. In their defence, Bradley’s happy-go-lucky, highly functional, liquor-induced charm had made it a difficult problem to notice, one of the reasons his addiction had persisted unchecked as long as it had.

It was overwhelming, sometimes, to think how far he’d come in just one year. And how much he had to lose.

Focus on the present. Not the past.

“You two really think you can beat me this time?” he asked.

“Definitely.”

“Absolutely.”

“Then on your marks, get set, go!” Bradley sprinted to the rear of the moving van where a few too many boxes labelled “Christmas” stood. He was probably using his employee discount at the seasonal tent a little too often, but Bradley tended to be a man of extremes. He’d always loved the holiday season, how it brought sparkle to a dreary month. It was why he’d offered to work the hectic, understaffed tent when most other full-time employees would rather hand in their resignation.

He rushed to unbox an inflatable snowman, staking it into the ground and whirring it to life, while Lana carried out candy canes as big as she was, and Sara wrapped lights along the porch railing. It was a family tradition, competitively decking out the front of their home, the twins taking one side while Bradley and his mother took the other. Before his balance grew too unsteady to climb ladders and hang lights and he opted to forgo the tradition, staying inside with his father instead and pretending to be interested in the hockey game.

As he strung lights now and laughed with his sisters, the move began to feel less like a major life change and more like a return to the comfortable days before he’d tasted the sweet, destructive tang of alcohol.

“Out of the way, second place.” Sara bumped past him.

“We need more lights!” Lana shouted to her twin.

Bradley was about to stake in the six-foot inflatable Sitting Santa Polar Bear he’d purchased on deep discount due to the coffee stains on the bear’s shoulder when a shrill scream pierced the air.

“You can’t put that there!”

Bradley turned toward the shriek to see a woman with hazel eyes that mingled the browns and greens of the forest, ringlets of auburn hair cascading down from her lazy topknot. She was wearing polka-dot pajamas, which Bradley noted in a slight daze, thinking he’d never seen a woman in pajamas look quite this striking. Until that thought was overridden by the realization that he’d seen this woman before. Just yesterday, in fact.

His jaw dropped as warmth spread through his limbs, an eagerness for this fated second chance, an opportunity to make amends—a beloved part of his twelve steps.

He hadn’t meant to come on so strong in the hardware store. He’d just been so drawn to her. Not in the insta-lovey way of being overcome by how beautiful she was—Bradley noticed beauty everywhere, even a gnarled piece of wood could be carved to reveal its exquisiteness. It was the storm of emotions captured by her admittedly attractive features that had flooded him with the same determined high he used to get when he cracked his first beer after his university classes. Except in this case, it was an irresistible, resolute urge to cheer this woman up.

“Hey.” A smile stretched across his face. “What a coincidence. Do you live here?”

“You can’t put that there,” the woman repeated.

“Oh, um, okay.” He scooped up the rather innocent-looking shell of a bear and tossed it toward the porch. “I’m Bradley, by the way. Bradley Mann. I think I remember you from the hardware store, right? And wow, I love your slippers. They look super comfortable. Bunnies, yeah? I’ve always liked bunnies. Although recently I’ve considered myself more of a teddy bear guy.” He winked.

The woman just gawked at him before her eyes slid down to the teeny heads and ears that poked out from the toes, her cheeks pinkening at the sight like she’d forgotten she was wearing them.

“I, uh…” She shook her head and returned her fierce gaze to him. “You have to take this down.”

“This?” He gestured to a reindeer.

“All of it.”

“All of it?”