Page 22 of Hostile for the Holidays

Seeing the playfulness return to Stella’s face is worth every penny of the junk she’s going to pick out for me.

I was right. Stella picked out a bunch of random shit for me at the holiday craft shop.

Naughty or nice socks, Santa’s lump of coal soap, a “festive farts” candle, and a reindeer butt bottle stopper. Oh, and an ugly holiday sweater. It’s green with glittery tinsel adorning the front and cross-stitched Christmas lights sewn across it.

It’s nice to know she was thinking about me.

For herself, she picked out one handmade gnome figure. I was surprised she hadn’t cleaned out their entire stock, but knowing Stella she probably hated the idea of owing me for anything.

After I got the tree cut and the tree farm worker helped me bag it, I secured it to the top of my rental SUV—incidental scratch charges be damned—because rideless and determined, Stella had walked to the tree farm thinking they could deliver the tree later. That is not a service the mom-and-pop tree farm offers.

When we pull up to her house, Stella motions to the curb.

“You can pull up here and I’ll jump out.”

“With an eight-foot tree?” I quip. “I’m going to pull in your driveway and unload it like a normal person would.”

“You’re always making things more difficult than they have to be.”

“Right back at ya, Sparky.”

Stella ignores me and starts to untie the tree from the roof. A normal couple could navigate this easily. The tree isn’t that heavy, it’s just long and awkward to hold. But Stella and I are legendary for our ability to argue about anything. How to get this tree inside her house will be no exception.

After some maneuvering and a few choice words from Stella, the tree along with a ton of loose pine needles is in her family’s living room. We work together to get it set up in the tree stand, and arrange it in front of the large picture window.

“It’s perfect,” she announces, staring at the tree while I keep my eyes fixed on her.

“Yeah.”

“Now, I’ve got to decorate it.” She rubs her hands together in anticipation.

“I can help you.”

She stares at me a moment, those eyes of hers contemplative, but then she nods her head.

The wool sweater I’m wearing doesn’t lend itself to being pressed up against the pine needles, not to mention the patch of sap that is clinging to my arm after carrying it in.

“I’m going to run home and change my shirt.”

“Fine by me.” She waves me off.

I rush out the door, anxious to get back before she changes her mind.

SEVEN

STELLA

After rummagingthrough the attic to find the bins of our family ornaments, I make my way back to the living room, but stop short when I find Daniel walking through the front door. He’s in a black zip-up and joggers with a beanie on his head.

“Hey, Stella.” He smiles, giving me a flirtatious wink. “What are you up to?”

“Um, hi. I’m about to decorate the tree.” With the bin in my hand, I motion to the tree Jasper and I just set up in front of the living room window.

“That’s cool.” He reaches for the hem of his pullover and yanks it over his head. “I went for a run and now I’m overheating.”

I smile. “Yeah, that happens in the Colorado sunshine.”

We’re making small talk. This is good. I don’t want things to be weird between Daniel and me, I just wanted him to back off with any romantic notions about us.

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