Meredith
It’s barely nine AM, and the house looks like it’s been burgled. Christmas wrap lies in tatters on the floor, creating a magical carpet of mini Santas and elves.
I offer to make the coffee, and Tom gives me a grateful look as he desperately tries to shove batteries in a toy that’s refusing to light up.
I step into the kitchen, pulling out three mugs as I stare out of the window, sleep still holding my eyelids captive.
I don’t notice the truck pulling up. Instead, I focus on filling the kettle up. Only when the truck door slams shut that I look up, my heart jumping in my mouth at the sight of Dylan striding towards me.
I close my eyes, sure I’m hallucinating. But I soon open them again when a loud knock on the door rings through the tiny house.
“I’ll get it!” I yelp, almost tripping over the piles of shoes by the front door.
Without a care for my morning hair or Disney nightie, I almost pull the door from its hinges.
There he is, in all his glory.
“Dylan? What are you doing here?” I whisper, my eyes wide.
He shoves his hands in his pockets, shuffling awkwardly on the step before looking up at me through his beautiful eyelashes. He clears his throat and shrugs, giving me a lopsided grin.
“Merry Christmas.” He chuckles, and I’m not sure if he’s addressing me or wishing me well. “Did you get my text?”
I look at him blankly, having zero idea what he’s talking about.
“No,” I say, crossing my arms against the chilly air. “Do you want to come in? Cassie will moan at me for letting the heat out.”
Dylan nods and moves past me so I can close the door.
“I’m sorry, I drank a fair bit last night and fell asleep… the kids woke me up today. I’ve not checked my phone,” I explain, my eyes searching his. “Is everything okay?”
“Oh, yeah, don’t panic,” Dylan quickly says as he glances towards the end of the hallway.
Cassie is standing there in her Goonies t-shirt and striped bottoms, staring at us with her mouth open.
“Merry Christmas, Cassie. I hope I’m not intruding.” Dylan smiles as my sister shakes her head, backing into the lounge.
“Merry Christmas, Dylan. Not at all; I was chasing up on that coffee, Mer, that’s all.”
“Right, coffee!” I swallow, turning back to see Dylan gazing at me. “Sorry, the text?”
I walk into the kitchen as Dylan leans against the doorway, his eyes on me.
“Meredith,” he says, and I almost drop the spoonful of coffee at the sound of my full name on his lips. “I want to ask you something.”
“Okay.” I swallow, pouring the water into the mugs. “Do you want a coffee?”
“Can you leave the coffee, just for a second?” Dylan chuckles, walking closer to me.
“If this is about yesterday, I’m sorry,” I blurted out, refusing to meet his eyes. “I think I got a little carried away.”
“I need your help,” Dylan continues, his fingers brushing against mine.
“On Christmas morning?” I squeak out, wondering what he needs my help with. I’m pretty much useless at everything, and I’m sure he has plenty of people to ask for help.
“Yep.” He pops the P, turning me away from the coffee. “Can I borrow you for a few hours this morning?”
“Yes,” I answered instantly, without thinking. “I need to get changed and get this coffee—”
