Page 64 of Chasing Fireflies

“Our backs will be sore as shit.”

“But I’ll be warm.” She places her green knit hat on her head and smiles.

“You’ll be warm with me beside you and blankets piled on top of us.” I put my coat and gloves on before I lift the box up.

“You’re no fun, Cash Williams. Pallets are the best.” She opens the door, and the wind brushes against my cheeks, freezing my nose.

“Pallets were fun when we were kids, baby. Now we’re old, and we have old people’s backs.”

“You have an old person’s back. There isn’t a thing wrong with mine.”

“Sleep on the floor then. Tomorrow, you’ll be telling me a different story about old people’s backs, baby cakes.”

“Baby cakes?” she says, grinning. I shrug.

“Just came out.”

“Okay…baby cakes.”

“Don’t call me that. It doesn’t sound right when you call a man baby cakes.”

She laughs. “Whatever…baby cakes.”

I roll my eyes and put the box down. “I’m sure the lights are tangled, so get to work, woman, while I go grab the ladder, nails, and hammer.

“Should have done this part inside,” she says as I walk around back.

*

Hours pass by, and I’ve hung enough lights to be able to see our house from space. We had all this last year, so luckily we didn’t have to buy any new ones.

“Come on. Let’s go get our tree,” I call up to Sara as I warm my hands by the fire. They’re stiff and burn like crazy. My gloves aren’t worth a shit. She comes running down the stairs with a dark green sweater on that has a tree on the front and lights that actually light up. My wife is a Christmas tree.

“Let’s go,” she says, walking over to the coat rack.

“Hold up.” I walk over to her and turn her to face me. “What the hell is this?” I ask, looking over her lights.

“It’s a sweater, duh,” she says, putting her arms through her coat.

“I know that, smarty. I mean, where did you get it and why?”

“It was on sale, so I didn’t pay much, and why? Because Christmas! Come on, Cash. Get it together.” She hands me my coat with a smile.

“You sure are chipper.”

“It’s Christmas!” she yells back as she walks to the truck, lights blinking as she goes.

*

We fire Old Blue up and head down the old country road that leads us to town. She sits beside me and wraps her arm around mine, making me listen to Christmas song after Christmas song. I pull up to the center of town and park the truck.

“So, are we getting a big tree or a small one?” I ask, already knowing the answer.

“Big.” She smiles, and I take her hand as we exit the cab of the truck. We see the chief and Anne, and they walk over to us.

“Well, glad to see you two out and about on this pretty day,” Anne says. She’s in a red scarf, and a red knit hat sits on her salt and pepper head.

“It is a nice day,” I agree.

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