Conversation will be awkward and stilted. I’ve never been good at meeting the parents. Somehow, I always manage to put my foot in my mouth.
“I would love to.” I say as I see his face lighting up with happiness, “But I can’t.”
The happiness washes away like it was never there while he waits for me to give him a reason.
“I’ve got plans tomorrow.” I say, “But I’m free all day today.”
His cerulean eyes stare into my soul for a minute longer before he spears another junk of waffle and eats it. I’m sure he’s going to call my bluff but then he changes the subject like it never happened. In all honesty I’m disappointed that he didn’t fight harder for me to go. But then I shake my head and dismiss that thought.
Oliver might not believe me, but he respects my decision. Even if that decision hurts my heart. I’ll be alone tomorrow on my favorite holiday, and while that’s been the plan for weeks now, I’m feeling a bit gloomy.
“You know I haven’t decorated my Christmas tree yet.” Oliver says out of the blue.
I glance around his sparse modern apartment trying to spot a single holiday decoration. It’s a quick survey and the count is a whopping zero.
“Do you even have a Christmas tree?” I ask.
“Not yet.” He replies with a warm smile, “But I’m sure you’ll help me find the perfect one.”
I tip my cereal bowl up to drink the last of the milk. When it’s gone, I hop up from the bar stool I’ve been perched on and rinse it in the sink. Once that’s done, I whirl around with my hands on my hips casting a glare in Oliver’s direction.
“What are you waiting for? We have a tree to find! Not to mention decorations, because I’m sure you have nothing on hand.” I wave my wand in a circular motion encouraging him to hurry. I do have a surplus of ornaments. I own too many for them all to fit on my tree at once.
Oliver makes a show of taking his time eating the last of his breakfast. A sloth could move faster I swear. While he's dallying I open his fridge looking for something to sip on while he takes the next five years to eat. I never pour much milk into my cereal because I dislike drinking large amounts of milk.
The twin pitchers catch my eye first but then the green cans sitting next to the other pop cans draw my attention. I shut the refrigerator door and cock my hip as I regard the sleep rumbled man hunched over the remainder of his meal.
“You didn't know what Vernors was until I told you.” I say. It's not a question but he treats it like one.
“I added a few things to my grocery list.” He says with a shrug as he uses his last bite of waffle to mop up the syrup and melted butter that has pooled on his plate.
“You didn’t need to do that.” I tell him.
I know it's not a grand gesture but it's significant all the same. My heart pounds as the ramifications hit me. He loves me. The logical part of me wants to think my ego is blowing this out of proportion but my heart knows the truth.
“There’s unsweetened tea in the yellow pitcher.” He says as he joins me at the sink to rinse his plate, “If you grab the red by accident you’ll get a toothache.”
My vision blurs as my eyes fill with tears. I can feel him looking at me and that’s the only reason I stammer out, “Thank you. That’s sweet of you.”
His hands slide under the long hem of his T-shirt to cup my ass. He tugs me closer till he’s hugging me and my head tucks comfortably under his chin. He holds me tight against his chest and I relax in his hold as I get my emotions under control.
“You have a big decision ahead of you.” I tell him when I wipe the remnants of my crying away. “Green or white?”
“Green?” He answers. The poor man is utterly confused. Can’t blame him, I’m experiencing a bit of emotional whiplash myself.
“You’ll see.” I say.
Oliver
As I push the cart around the hobby store it finally clicks. Green or white Christmas tree. Gabriella walks lightly beside me. Occasionally she sees something that gets her excited and she skips away to check it out. The space in my cart is largely occupied by the tree she helped me pick out.
A Douglas Fir or so the box proclaims. All I know is that Gabriella loves it and that made the choice easy. She didn’t even glance at the white trees on display. She led me right to this one as soon as we hit the store’s doors. The branches are tipped in white giving it a snow dusted look. I know she misses her childhood home at times despite all the complaining she does about the freezing cold.
I might not be able to give her a white Christmas, but I can give her a snowy Christmas tree.
One apparently engulfed in decoration if my cart is any indicator. I’ll be surprised if it remains upright once she’s done with it. The sheer amount of tinsel and ornaments she has piled into the cart could decorate a dozen trees.
And now she’s searching for the perfect tree topper. I had the audacity to suggest the first one I saw and that was a mistake. I couldn’t care less what sits at the top of the tree but Gabriella has strong opinions on the subject.
