Page 21 of Hostile for the Holidays

Another swing, this one angrier than the next.

Thwack.

“Baking gingerbread houses.”

Thwack.

“Driving around to see the light displays. Nobody has time for anything but planning a fucking wedding. Not even a tree.” She laughs but it’s the sound of defeat. “They put up a tiny fake tree on a table in the foyer.” She sniffs. “It’s so small it fits on a table, Jasper.”

Her eyes lift to meet mine. The cloudy afternoon sky makes for the perfect lighting to see every single one of Stella’s freckles. Her skin is fair except the tip of her nose that is pinkened from the cold air.

That’s when I realize she’s not mad at me, she’s upset at the situation. Sadie’s wedding is throwing off the holidays for their family and it’s upsetting for Stella, the girl who lives for Christmas.

I move toward her, which is quite brave seeing that Stella is wielding an axe and she’s hostile. But this time when I reach out a hand for the axe, she relents.

The second it’s in my hand I notice something odd. There’s not much weight to it and upon further inspection the edge isn’t even sharp.

“Stella, where did you get this axe?” I ask.

“I brought it from home. It was in the garage with some of the Halloween supplies.”

“Gotcha.”

It’s a fake axe. A Halloween prop.

In the past, I would have used her gaffe to tease her relentlessly, but even if Stella doesn’t know it, this is a pivotal moment for us. Sure, a couple can tease each other about silly mistakes and laugh about it, but Stella’s still on the defense with me. She needs to feel safe making mistakes and know I won’t go for the jugular and make her feel judged.

It’s baby steps with her.

So now I’ll need to distract her while I cut the tree down with the saw the tree farm is providing.

“It seems like you need a break. How about I cut down your tree while you go peruse The Cozy Cabin Craft Shop?”

She dusts off her mittens. “I guess I could look around.”

“Get anything you want. It’s my treat.”

She eyes me suspiciously, before turning in the direction of the shop.

“You sure? I have a penchant for holiday gnomes and chunky crocheted scarves I’m never going to wear.”

I smile at her warning. “I’m sure. I’m your wealthy boyfriend after all.”

She points her finger and gives me a stern look.

“Wealthyfakeboyfriend.”

For now.

“Stella?” I call.

“Yeah?”

“Will you pick me out something, too? Something you think I’d like.”

Her face lights up and the wicked gleam of excitement flashes through her eyes.

“Of course, Snowflake,” she says a little too sweetly, before turning to make her way to the craft shop.

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