Page 73 of Campaign Season
Finally, with a dramatic grunt and a spray of needles, the tree lurched forward another foot—dragging Jameson with it. She stumbled in, jeans smeared with dirt, twigs poking out of her collar, and pine needles sticking out of her hair like makeshift ornaments.
Candace’s laughter deepened, warm and fond. She shook her head. "You’re a mess.”
Jameson gave a triumphant grin, brushing her hands off her thighs. “But the tree’s in.”
“Barely,” Scott muttered.
Jonah clapped his hands like a foreman. “All right. Let’s get this beast in the stand before we lose the rest of the wallpaper.”
The kids darted to fetch towels for the dripping trunk, Pearl directed traffic toward the attic for ornament boxes, Michelle fussed about the vacuum, while Melanie corralled the little ones out of harm’s way.
In the middle of it all, Candace stepped close, plucking a pine needle from Jameson’s hair. Then another. And another.
Jameson stilled, tilting her head slightly toward Candace’s fingers. Their eyes met, the noise fading into the background.
Candace smiled softly, brushing a twig off Jameson’s shoulder. “Every year,” she said again, her eyes glistening.
Jameson’s grin softened into something quieter, more vulnerable. “And every year, it’s worth it.”
Jonah called out for someone to hold the trunk steady, and the chaos surged again. But Candace lingered, her hand resting on Jameson’s shoulder, savoring the comfort of this imperfect, noisy, familiar normal.
"You wanted an asylum," Jameson said.
Candace shook her head. "Good thing I married a lunatic."
"JD!" Michelle called. "Stop making googly eyes at Mom and help us!"
Candace chuckled. "That's you."
Jameson snuck a kiss and darted away.
Pearl wrapped an arm around Candace. "I can't remember this place without her," she said.
Candace smiled. "Let's hope we never have to."
It had been a long day, filled with laughter and teasing. The house was quiet, the way it always was after a long holiday meal. The kids had all gone upstairs, though the faint rumble of protest still carried down the staircase.
“Brush your teeth!” Marianne’s voice called from the bottom of the staircase.
A chorus of groans answered, followed by giggles that drifted into the living room.
Marianne appeared briefly in the doorway, her smile tired but warm. “You two coming up?”
“In a bit,” Candace replied, lifting the glass of wine in her hand. “I think I’ll finish this first.”
Jameson raised an eyebrow. “Translation: she’s perfectly comfortable right here.”
Candace leaned more firmly into her side. “Guilty.”
“Don’t stay up too late.”
"Leave them down there, Marianne!" Michelle called out. "I'm too tired, and it's too cold to find Jonah's tent."
Marianne laughed.
"I swear, she should just rent a billboard for Bible Study," Jameson grumbled.
Marianne and Candace exchanged a smile.
