Page 40 of The Bright Side of Christmas
I stand at the foot of her steps, watching her as she takes me in before she must decide she doesn’t want to argue, turns on her heel once more, and heads inside, slamming the door when she does.
And despite what she said, that night I watched her place from my office. Over the next twenty minutes, the lights go out one by one in each room until all lights are off at 10:12.
I’d call that a win any day.
FIFTEEN
Even though I stare at the small basket of decorations I’ve compiled for my quest to get Adam to decorate his house every morning, I don’t bring a single one over there in the days following our kiss. In fact, I make every attempt to avoid the man whenever possible.
I leave for school earlier than usual, before the time I’ve determined he goes for his run. I take on extra after-care duty when Mr. Saunders asks if I can cover for him. Even though I tell myself it’s just my usual habit of helping, I know in my gut it’s not that.
I’m avoiding my house because I’m avoiding Adam. I’m avoiding Adam because he completely scrambles my brain with his desire to push me to put myself first and, of course, thatkiss.
I’m avoiding him because I don’t know what to do about this man who sees past my walls, who continues to pressure me to put myself first, even though he barely evenknowsme.
The worst part is that even though I tell myself that he’s an asshole and doesn’t understand me or my town, I’m starting to wonder if there’s some truth to what he’s been trying to show me. Hell, Hallie’s been saying it for some time now, just with kid gloves and in her gentle way, so I could easily ignore it.
Of course, I’m stubborn, so instead of slowing down, I’ve ramped up my schedule, which means I’m even more tired than normal. When I receive an early morning call from the school district telling me that school has been cancelled due to snow, a wave of relief washes over me. I laze about in bed for longer than usual, then make a cup of coffee before drinking it in the living room, watching the snow fall in fat clumps. It quickly piles up on the frozen ground, leaving a thick layer on all of my decorations.
It’s so peaceful, and for the first time in a while, I don’t feel the gut-wrenching anxiety of my to-do list looming. Instead, I take my time cleaning up the kitchen a bit before heading upstairs to my office, where I put on a show and start binding the quilt, determined to slowly finish it on my unplanned day off. Unfortunately, I’ve only completed three of the four sides when the power goes out.
The town has tons of trees throughout, so it’s not uncommon during a snowstorm like this for a tree branch to get too heavy and fall on a power line. Hopefully, the power will return soon, since my heat is unfortunately electric. Otherwise, I’ll have to brave the outside and grab some of the firewood my brother dropped off a few months ago and get the fireplace going.
Ten minutes later, my hope that the power will return quickly is almost completely dashed, and an unknown number texts me.
Unknown
Do you have power?
I squint at my phone, unsure of who could be messaging me. I don’t think I’ve given out my phone number to anyone recently, but maybe it’s someone who also lost power and is looking for help. Before I answer, though, the typing bubble pops up once more, followed by a new message.
This is Adam.
My stomach flips a bit at the name on my screen. Why is Adam texting me?
And where did he get my number?
How did you get my number?
Again, he answers quickly.
It was in a packet of papers someone dumped on my front door when I moved in.
Do you have power?
Moving to the front window, I check the street that’s now coated in a thick layer of snow to confirm none of the houses are lit up. I think I see a light on in Adam’s house, but the rest are mostly dark except for a few that I know have generators. Many houses on this street have gas heat, something my house was never converted to, so I’m not worried about anyone freezing to death.
Except, maybe, for me.
No, I think the entire street is out.
I meant a generator. Do you have a generator?
I don’t respond.
My oldest brother, Jesse, has been bugging me since I moved in that I needed to get a generator for the house, but I kept waving it off. I had no time or energy to shop for a boring generator. Especially not when there were many more fun things to get for the house, like decorations and paint. Generators are pretty common around here, and we had a giant one at the farmI grew up on. Grandma never needed one because any time there was a forecast for even the smallest bit of snow, my dad would insist on picking her up and taking her to the farm for the night.
I know Madden and Jesse are totally going to get on me about it.
