Page 34 of Christmas Treasures

She shook her head. “I’m not sure. Anyway, I don’t really do Christmas.”

He glanced her way again, eyes curious. “Can I ask why? Or is that off-limits?”

Charlie looked down, gathering courage before answering. “My mom died near Christmas when I was thirteen.”

Max went quiet, the only sound between them the muffled hum of car tires and gentle strains of the radio. “I’m so sorry,” he finally said, voice gentle. “That must have been awful.”

She swallowed, fingers twisting together in her lap. “It was. And the worst part—it was my fault. I’d sneaked out to see friends, even though I was supposed to be home in bed. She went out looking for me, worried sick. She got hit by a car trying to cross the street.” Her voice wavered slightly. “I’ve never forgiven myself.”

Max’s jaw tightened slightly. “Hey now, you were thirteen. It wasn’t your fault.”

“Rationally, I know that. But emotionally? I’ve never been able to shake the shame. And regret. Christmas became this reminder of the worst mistake I ever made. Then Dad died in December, too, the year I sold ForkCast. After that, I just shut down. It felt easier not to celebrate. Not to remember.”

Max reached over, his hand lightly covering hers on the console. “I get that.”

Charlie stared out the window, startled by the tears that threatened. “But now I see places like Martin’s and how excited people are—and I wonder if I’ve missed out on a lot of life by holding on to this. Maybe it’s time I find a new memory to put in its place.”

“You deserve that,” Max said simply, removing his hand from hers. “Maybe this Christmas can be different.”

She glanced over at him. “You’re going to have to get a tree for Bianca. Maybe I could go with you?”

His face lit up. “I’d love that.”

“I might like to go to the cookie party too. As long as you don’t make fun of me for being too particular about decorating. I tend to fixate a bit on stuff like that.”

“I’ll let you take over for me then,” Max said. “Because I’m kind of a mess when it comes to cookies. Focusing on something that long is hard for me, unless it’s something I’m super interested in.”

“Is that because of your ADHD?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Did you struggle in school because of it?”

“Gosh, yes. I had a rough time. Talk about shame. My parents were supportive, but I felt embarrassed. Compared to my brothers, who were all super academic, I was the dummy.”

“You don’t still think that, do you?”

“Nah. I’ve learned that we all have different gifts. I like the work I do, even though it’s not rocket science. I get to be with people and procure interesting products from all over the state. And I don’t have to sit at a desk all day.” He glanced over at her. “Could you ever see yourself with someone like me? You know, someone who isn’t even close to being as smart as you?”

“Like you said, there are all kinds of intelligence. I’m envious of how you are with people. It’s admirable. Andhumbling. So, please, never worry about anything like that.” She was shocked to hear him ask such a thing. “When I first met you, I thought you were a guy with unlimited self-confidence.”

“Yeah, not so much.”

“From my eyes, you’re just right as you are.” She reached over and pulled his hand back onto the console.

His fingers tightened slightly around hers, and he didn’t let go for the rest of the drive.

Charlie satin a molded plastic chair at the small regional airport terminal, eyes trained on the arrival screen. Beside her, holding tight to the toy tuxedo cat, Max paced. Three steps left, three steps right, checking his watch every few seconds as if he could speed up the plane through sheer willpower.

“You’re going to wear out the carpet and your shoes,” Charlie said.

Max stopped abruptly, sliding his hands into his pockets. “Sorry. But does this seem to be taking forever?”

“She’ll be here soon,” Charlie reassured him.

A quiet ding sounded overhead. Charlie’s pulse quickened slightly as the screen updated. “Flight’s landed.”

Max exhaled sharply, visibly steadying himself as he turned toward the arrivals door. She placed a hand on his arm. The doors slid open, and passengers began to trickle out, their expressions weary from the early flight.

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