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Halfway there, Liam stopped, shifting the tree to his other shoulder. “This is absolutely ludicrous,” he muttered.

A man with a long brown coat did a double take at Liam as he passed by. “You know there are services for that now, mate.”

Liam nodded. “Yeah. Just doing this for…you know.” He tossed his head to Claire, who stood by him with a silent smile.

The man looked at Claire, then tipped his cap. “Good luck.”

As he continued past them, Claire grinned, definitely more amused than she ought to be. “We’re just having so much fun.”

Liam didn’t respond, though the twinkle in his eye remained.

After a few more shifting of shoulders, and another unhelpful comment from a passerby—“Why didn’t you have it delivered?”—the two of them finally arrived at Tasha’s.

Liam propped the tree up in the corner of the front room, then moved to the attic to find the decorations. Claire remained downstairs, finishing a few dishes and tidying up the area Melody had left behind before wandering to the bottom of the stairs.

“Do you need any help?” she called, eying the empty steps that had been pulled down from the open attic.

“No, I’m almost done,” came Liam’s muffled voice from inside.

She nodded, though she knew he couldn’t see her. As she waited, she allowed her eyes to wander about the space, folding her arms as a cold draft came down the hallway. The pictures along the wall caught her attention, and she stepped forward to give them a closer look.

The first few were of Tasha and her late husband’s wedding, while the next revealed a young Liam—probably four or five—standing beside his parents. She smiled at his woolen jacket, flat cap, and hair cut straight above his eyebrows.

The ladder from the attic squeaked, and she glanced up as Liam descended with a box and a tree stand. He looked down at her with a smile, which she returned before pointing to the photo. “Is this you?”

He glanced to the wall as he moved down the stairs. “Yeah. We were camping in the Lake District. It was my dad’s favorite place to go.”

She looked back to the picture. “You look so much like him.”

“So I’ve heard.” He came up to stand beside her, a solemn expression on his face.

Claire hesitated. She wanted to know more about his dad, but she was never sure how much was too much to ask.

“Were you like him in other ways?”

“We were fairly similar. I definitely discovered my love of the outdoors because of him. He’d take us camping every weekend he could.”

She glanced up at him, but he averted his gaze and motioned down the hallway. “Shall we?”

Claire trailed after him, more questions about his father resting at the tip of her tongue, but she swallowed them one by one, not wishing to upset Liam by bringing up an obviously painful subject.

“Hot chocolate?” he offered as he deposited the box on the couch.

“Yeah, please.”

He put the kettle on, retrieving two mugs as Claire fought against her judgment to ask him anything too intrusive. Her eyes caught sight of a camera on the counter, its sleek, black exterior contrasting from the tattered, orange neck strap draped to the side of it.

“So what were you doing today?” she asked, pulling her gaze away from the camera. “Before we roped you into hanging out with us, I mean.”

Liam pulled out a purple tin of Cadbury’s Drinking Chocolate, dumping a few spoonfuls into each mug. “Oh, I was just…milling about. Checked on my apartment. Took a few photos.”

Ah, so he had been taking photos. Just as she’d suspected. “Took a few photos,” she repeated, nodding her head. “And how did that go?”

He shrugged. “It was alright.”

“Did you get any good shots?”

“Nothing spectacular.”