Christmas Steele (8 page)

“Sweet mercy, what happened?” he asked,
peering up at her with a scowl.

“The ladder fell,” she said, offended by his
insinuation that this had somehow been her fault. “It could have
happened to anyone,” she added.

“Why did you go up there?”

“The tree,” she said.

He sighed as he set up the ladder. “Red, Red,
Red. Just when I congratulate myself on surviving a boring night at
work, you have to call and make my life interesting. What would I
do without you?” he finished as his head popped through the
opening, smiling at her.

“Sleep?” she suggested, suddenly aware of her
bedraggled appearance. He had been awake all night, and he still
looked better than she did.

“Sleep is overrated,” he said, reaching for
her. “C’mon.”

She backed out of his grasp. “The tree,” she
said, pointing to the large box beside her. He sighed again, but
reached for the large box and easily lifted it, dropping it gently
through the hole.

“Your turn,” he said, reaching for her once
again.

“Are you going to drop me like that?” she
asked.

“Depends on how long you keep me on this
ladder.”

She edged forward and gave him her hand. He
backed down, keeping hold of her until she was safely on the ladder
and then he let her go, easing down the ladder in front of her in
case she fell. She was both appreciative and disheartened by his
attentiveness. She wasn’t
that
accident prone; was she?

They hopped off the ladder, facing each
other. Jason smiled as he looked her up and down. “You’re a mess,
Red.”

“Thanks for that,” she said. Insecurity
apparently made her testy, but he looked like a page from a
policeman’s calendar, and she looked like a chimney sweep.

“I meant it in a good way,” he added.

“Obviously,” she muttered, not believing him.
It was bad enough that she was wearing ratty clothes without a
stitch of makeup. Why did she have to be covered in grime and
insulation, too? She began hedging away, but Jason made no move to
leave. Instead he looked at the box on the floor.

“You’re putting up the tree solo?”

“Everyone else is away,” she explained. “I
thought it might help get me in the Christmas mood.”

“Maybe that’s what I’m missing,” he murmured,
still staring absently at the tree.

“You don’t have a tree?”

Her question diverted his attention and she
wondered if he hadn’t meant to start this conversation. “No, I’m
not one for decorations,” he said, shifting uncomfortably.

“You have to have a tree, Jason,” Lacy
said.

“No I don’t.”

“Of course you do. A house with no tree is
depressing.”

“I’ll tell my house you said so.” He glanced
at the door, but now Lacy was the one reluctant to let him go. For
some reason the thought of him without a tree was painful to her.
Not only was he alone and working, but he was treeless. It was just
like Mr. Middleton had been all those years.

“Stay and decorate our tree with me,” she
begged, clasping his hand and giving it a squeeze.

He looked down at their combined hands and
smiled. She followed the line of his gaze and grimaced when she
realized she had smudged him with dirt and insulation shavings.

“Sorry,” she said, dropping his hand.

He picked her hand up again and returned her
earlier squeeze. “All right. I’ll stay. I can’t stand the thought
of you decorating your family’s tree alone. Now
that’s
depressing.”

“Do you mind if I shower first? I’m itchy.”
True, she was itchy, but more than that she felt disgusting,
especially in light of his absurd good looks.
It wouldn’t hurt
you to look like you’ve actually been awake all night,
she
wanted to add.

He quirked an eyebrow at her. “Are you going
to take a long time? Is this going to be one of those situations
where you take three hours and I fall asleep on the couch waiting
for you?”

“I’ll be quick,” she promised.

He let go her hand and pushed a button on his
watch. “You have twenty minutes and then I’m coming to get you.”
His smile turned wicked. “Take your time.”

She hastened away, knowing he would be true
to his word and come looking for her in exactly twenty minutes.
Taking the world’s fastest shower, she still managed to wash her
hair twice and shave her legs and armpits, though not without
consequences. Her legs were so nicked and streaked with blood they
looked like candy canes. She would have to forego drying her hair,
but makeup was a necessity. She quickly applied powder, eye shadow
and gloss and was just reaching for the mascara when the handle on
the door turned. It was locked, but he would quickly pick it. She
used the time it took for him to find a hanger to apply some
mascara so that by the time he had the door open
she—hopefully—looked like a different person.

“You made it,” he said, sounding
disappointed.

She tossed her mascara back in her makeup bag
and zipped it up. “What would you have done if you found me not
ready?” she asked.

He propped his shoulder against the
doorframe. “That depends on how not ready you were,” he said. His
tone was warm and flirtatious, and Lacy decided this was probably a
road they shouldn’t go down, and especially not when she was still
warm from the shower and they had a house to themselves.

“Are you hungry?” she asked.

His answering smile acknowledged the fact
that she was pointedly changing the subject. “I ate at work; it was
a slow night, and I was hungry,” he explained, probably because he
didn’t usually eat while he was working.

“How did you work last night if you worked a
double yesterday?” she asked.

“I went home, slept for four hours, and went
back to work for another four.”

Lacy shook her head. “Not healthy, Jason.
Please tell me you’re at least getting paid overtime for all this
work.”

“There’s no money for overtime,” he said.

“Jason,” Lacy said, knowing it would do no
good to tell him to slow down. For whatever reason, he felt like he
had to give a hundred and ten percent all of the time.

“You worried about me, Red?” he guessed.

She nodded. “All the time.”

“You’re the only one who does,” he added
softly. They came to a stop beside the tree and she smiled up at
him.

“That’s okay; I worry enough for ten
people.”

“That must mean you think about me a lot,” he
said, his tone turning cocky.

“And the moment is over,” she said, settling
her attention on the tree. She bent and began trying to struggle
the behemoth free from its box. It was an old tree, sold before the
newer, streamlined versions became available. But, heavy as it was,
Lacy wouldn’t have it any other way. She had always loved her
grandmother’s tree with it’s blue lights and old-fashioned
decorations.

Jason stood back, watching. “At what point
are you going to admit defeat and ask for my help?”

“At what point are you going to be a
gentleman and offer?” she returned, peeved that she couldn’t get
the tree out by herself. This was not her day for independence,
apparently.

Jason reached down and easily separated the
tree from its box, smiling smugly at Lacy when she wrinkled her
nose at him. “How does this thing go together?” he asked.

“You have to find the matching colors. Only
it’s so old that the colors are sort of rubbed off, so you have to
guess a lot of the time.” She immersed herself fully in the tree,
looking closely at the holes to try and tell what color they were
supposed to be. “They all look gray,” she announced.

“The biggest branches probably go at the
bottom, don’t you think?” Jason asked as he began sorting
branches.

“Yes, but which ones are the biggest?” Lacy
backed out of the tree and they studied the pile of branches on the
floor. They all looked the same to her, but Jason must have
possessed some keen instinct about what went where, because soon he
had them sorted into piles and began handing them to her as she
poked them into their assigned holes. In no time, the tree was
assembled and they stood back to admire their handiwork.

“Is that it?” Jason asked.

“Is that it?” she echoed. “Jason, you have to
have lights on a tree, and decorations, and tinsel and
icicles.”

“That sounds like a lot,” he said. “Doesn’t
it get sort of crowded?”

“Yes, but it’s grandma’s tree. Her tree is
supposed to be crowded.”

“Don’t you have a tree of your own?” he
asked.

She shook her head as she opened the closet
and began pulling out boxes of Christmas decorations.

“What did you do in New York?” he asked,
sounding truly curious.

“My roommate owned a tree, although she let
me hang a few decorations on it. And then I helped with Robert’s
tree.” She swallowed down the memory of decorating Robert’s tree.
They’d had so much fun talking about their future as they decorated
together.

“What does Lacy’s dream tree look like?”
Jason asked, moving her aside to carry the boxes to the tree.

Lacy paused, staring thoughtfully at her
grandmother’s tree without seeing it. “It’s real. I’ve never had a
real tree, but I’ve always wanted one. And it’s huge—eight feet or
taller. The lights are all white, and there’s no tinsel. Maybe
there are some ribbons, and it’s more streamlined, less
crowded.”

“That sounds pretty,” he said.

She wasn’t sure if he was sincere or if he
was patronizing her, but the words still soothed her. “What was
your tree like growing up?” she asked.

He shrugged. “We didn’t really have one after
my brother died. Christmas sort of lost its meaning after
that.”

She wanted to comfort him, but instinctively
knew that he didn’t want to be comforted just then. He didn’t want
pity, and so she wouldn’t pity him. “You can have a tree now, you
know,” she informed him.

He shrugged again. “Seems sort of pointless
when I’m never home,” he said.

“No, it’s definitely not pointless,” she
argued. “I’ll show you what I’m talking about when we get this put
together.” They worked in silence for a while, stringing lights and
hanging decorations. Many of them were things that Lacy and Riley
had made for their grandmother, and the sight of so many tangible
memories was both painful and happy for her. At last they were
finished. Jason shoved the tree box back into the attic and put
away the ladder while Lacy tidied up the remainder of the boxes,
stowing them back in the closet.

When he returned from the garage, she had
closed the blinds and turned off all the lights, save the tree. She
patted the seat beside her on the couch, and he sat down.

“This is why you need a Christmas tree,” she
said softly. “Not because of the presents or the tradition, but
because there is nothing better than sitting in a darkened room and
staring at the soft glow of a decorated tree.”

“I’ll give you this one,” he said. “This is
nice. But does it work the same when you’re alone? Or is it nice
because we’re here together?”

Lacy had to think about that one. “It’s still
nice. And when I sit alone and stare at the tree, it gives me hope
that I won’t be alone forever, that someday I’ll find someone to
share it with, someone who doesn’t dump me for my sister,” she
added ruefully, causing Jason to chuckle.

“Dare to dream big, Red. Is that your only
requirement for lifelong love? That a man not dump you for your
sister?”

“Pretty much at this point, yes,” she
answered. “What about you, Jason? What does your forever girl look
like?”

He bridged the gap between them, resting his
hand on her leg. “You know, Red, some days she looks a whole lot
like y—“

“We’re home,” her mother announced, flipping
on the lights as she stepped inside. “Why is it so dark in here?
Oh, hello.” Her bright tone was a sharp contrast to the heavy
tension in the room, but of course she didn’t notice. “Are you my
mother’s pastor?” Then, stepping forward, she noticed his uniform.
“Lacy, what’s going on?”

Lacy resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Did
her mother actually think Lacy was in trouble with the law? Yet her
fearful tone hinted at such. “Mom, do you remember Jason
Cantor?”

Frannie blinked in confusion, either because
she didn’t remember Jason or she did and had no idea what he was
doing with Lacy. They hadn’t exactly been in the same social strata
in high school. “Why, yes, I believe so. You were the quarterback
when Lacy was in school, weren’t you?”

“I was,” Jason said, standing and extending
his hand. “It’s nice to see you again, Mrs. Steele.”

“You, too,” Lacy’s mother said, though she
still sounded confused. Lacy could almost hear her mental gears
turning, and she dreaded the coming conversation.

“I should probably go,” Jason said.

“I’ll walk you out,” Lacy said, delaying the
inevitable questions from her mother. She trotted behind Jason, so
close behind that she smacked into him when he stopped to open the
door.

“Wow, you really don’t want to have to
explain to your mother what I was doing here,” Jason said.

“Less than anything in the world,” Lacy said,
closing the door and leaning against it for support. Then,
plastering on a bright smile, she looked up at Jason. “Thanks for
helping me decorate the tree, Jason. I had a lot of fun.”
Oh,
and what was it you were saying before we were so rudely
interrupted? Something about lifelong love? And, while we’re at it,
who is the mysterious blond? And did you buy me a necklace for
Christmas?

“It was fun,” he said, his tone wary. “What’s
up with you?”

Lacy had to get an answer to at least one of
her questions. She chose the one that was least humiliating to put
forth. “This is a weird question, but have you already bought my
Christmas present?”

“Yes,” he drawled. “Why?”