Page 44 of Decked Out with Ivy

“Are we the only ones here?” Ivy asked as they walked into theater two.

“I bought out the theater for the night. No one else is coming.”

“What are you up to, mister?”

He didn’t say anything, just smiled and walked to a middle seat a few rows back so they didn’t have to bend their neck through the whole movie.

The lights dimmed, and Cody took her hand. He leaned into her, his breath warm against her skin. “You’ve shown me somany traditions, and while this isn’t exactly a tradition, it’s one of the few good memories I have from Christmas.”

Clay trees appeared on the screen, the nostalgia ofRudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeerimmediately putting a smile on her face. “Rudolph?”

“One year, my mom bought us matching pajamas, and we watched Rudolph together. I was five.”

Excitement and joy filled her at the fact he wanted to share this with her, but she was also sad. This special memory of Christmas was so long ago. “Five? That’s your only good memory of Christmas?”

“It was,” he said, cupping her cheek. “Until the Red Maple Falls Christmas Queen threatened to make me fall in love with Christmas. Now I have more good memories of Christmas than I ever thought I would.” He kissed her nose, and she wanted to capture his lips, but Burl Ives’s voice boomed in the theater.

Cory wrapped his arm around her shoulder, and they snuggled in together, watching the slow-motion picture. His hand ran up and down her arm, making her feel comforted and warm. His lips kept finding her head, placing soft kisses along her crown.

This was everything she ever wanted—a man who was willing to open up to her, to share in Christmas traditions together, and not judge her while she gorged herself on popcorn and chocolate.

They watched the entire movie, sharing kisses in between scenes. The credits rolled, and the lights turned on.

“Other than Clarice, Rudolph’s family and friends were kind of dicks,” Cory said, and a laugh burst from Ivy.

“They really were.” She’d seen this movie so many times as a kid, and it even made the Christmas movie marathon her aunt and uncle hosted many times, but maybe Ivy hadn’t paid muchattention to her cousins’ bickering. Still, nothing could take away the nostalgia. She still loved it.

“No wonder my mom liked this movie.”

The lack of Christmas in his childhood weighed heavily on her chest. Ivy took his hand, linking her fingers with his and rubbing her thumb along his knuckle. “I’m sorry you didn’t have a better childhood.” She wished he grew up in Red Maple Falls. She would have made sure he got to experience the true joys of Christmas. But she would settle for being able to show him now.

“It prepared me for life. Expect the worst. Wait for the other shoe to drop.”

It was a horrible way to live, and she hated that for him, but she hoped maybe her Christmas joy had worn off on him, even if just a little. “Is that what you’ve been doing this whole time? Waiting for things to get bad?”

He shook his head. “It’s the only time in my life when I haven’t, and it’s been nice.Reallynice.”

“How about we go to my place and have some hot chocolate by the fire?”

“Haven’t you had enough chocolate?” He gestured at the empty boxes.

“We can have some of Old Man Simpson’s moonshine. Or I can combine both.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

***

Back at her house, Ivy kept the lights off, only turning on the lights on the tree. Rays of red, blue, green, pink and yellow reflected against the walls and floor. He brought in firewood and helped her start the fire. She placed the wood inside and put the starter beneath it.

“Have you ever started a fire before?” she asked.

“My fireplace is electric, and I never really had a need for it, but I’m enjoying watching you in action.”

Her phone vibrated again and again. “I’m sorry. The family chat is going haywire.” She grabbed her phone off the coffee table and tapped into the chat.

“The results of the gingerbread contest are in.”

“Oh!” Cody said with more enthusiasm than she expected. It warmed her heart to see him genuinely seem to care about her family's silly tradition.