Page 16 of The Alien Reindeer's Bounty
She took a breath to calm herself. The headache lay at the root of her grumpiness, not her smothering, overly critical parents. Gerald and Patricia were fantastically supportive and adored Ruby. They never second-guessed any decision Odessa made regarding the store and that level of trust went a long way to smoothing over the more prickly aspects of their family dynamics.
“You’ll need someone to help carry the tree inside,” Gerald said, not giving up.
“Sure, Dad, why don’t you come along? I’ll let you lift heavy things,” Odessa said with a sigh.
They went to a tree lot on the edge of town, set up in the parking lot of the local hardware store. Oversized Christmas lights were strung across the lot along with tinsel candy canes and snowflakes. Holiday music played, distorted by aging speakers. It was gaudy and wonderful, and Odessa loved it.
“I want this one!” Ruby ran straight for a massive Douglas Fir that had been flocked with artificial snow.
“That’s too big,” Odessa said.
“More room for presents.”
Odessa laughed at her little goblin’s audacity. “Santa doesn’t bring you more presents if there’s more room under the tree.”
“Because he doesn’t know, Mommy,” Ruby said with the tired seriousness of a seven-year-old who was exhausted from explaining the obvious to her mother.
Gerald caught the attention of the lot attendant and explained what they needed. Setting up an artificial tree would be easier—and Ruby could have her say in choosing a ridiculous color—but Odessa loved the scent of fresh pine. The holiday season wouldn’t be the same without the rich, earthy scent settling deep into the house and she’d tolerate vacuuming up needles for that alone.
Getting the tree before Thanksgiving would be pushing the lifespan of the tree, she knew, but her schedule didn’t have a lot of wiggle room. She had to buy the tree today so she and Ruby could decorate the day after Thanksgiving, otherwise, they’d have to wait until closer to Christmas Day. Odessa tried that last year and Ruby drove her crazy with questions, worried that Santa would skip their house if they didn’t have a tree. So, to make her life easier, she would rather have a slightly dry tree shedding needles all over the floor than an excited child begging to decorate. Ruby’s desire to put up stockings and the giant inflatable Santa and reindeer in the yard began the day after Halloween.
Odessa admired parents with multiple kids to wrangle and kept the Christmas hype under control. The more she wanted Ruby to chill, the more the little goblin worked herself up into a frenzy. At her wits’ end, she told this ridiculous story about a government agency that regulated when Christmas decorations could be displayed. Odessa didn’t want to break the law or make Ruby an accomplice in her decor-related crime spree.
Ruby swallowed the story without question.
Parent of the year, she was not. Odessa did the best she could with what she had.
Ruby held her grandpa’s hand, happily swinging it wildly as if she couldn’t contain her excitement. Odessa knew from experience that Ruby would have a hard time settling down to eat her dinner. They’d set the tree up in the stand when they got home. She could let Ruby pick an old sheet from the linen closet to use as a tree skirt to catch needles. Hopefully, all the activity of the day would have drained Ruby’s batteries enough to let her sleep.
A figure leaving the hardware store caught Odessa’s attention. Her mouth went dry and her heart lurched. In books, when the narrator said they knew so-and-so in an instant, despite having been separated for years, Odessa always thought that was bunk. People changed. They got bald or gained weight or otherwise transformed into something familiar but unrecognizable. Other than four years at college, Odessa lived her whole life in one town, and she had a hard time recognizing people from high school. Were they who she thought they were? She hadn’t seen them since they moved away, so she couldn’t be sure.
But this man, she knew without question. Recognition rang in her like a bell.
Mads Sommerfeldt was leaving the hardware store. He was older and had a noticeable limp as he walked. Leaner and more defined, his face lost the roundness of youth. His cheekbones had grown sharper, which only made his lips seem that much more luscious. That hair, though, was still a wild mop. She was sure that if she got close enough, she’d see laugh lines around his eyes, perhaps a stray gray hair at his temples.
He had grown into his frame of a lean runner’s build with shoulders wide enough to share every burden. Wearing faded jeans and green Henley, he made the old work clothes look good. The cold must still not bother him as he had no jacket. A cranberry-colored scarf hung around his neck.
Her Mads.
How sad was it that she wanted to go over to him and adjust the scarf, tuck in the ends to make sure his neck didn’t catch a chill? Super sad.
As if sensing her gaze, he paused outside the store doors and turned to stare directly at her. She felt fluttery and eighteen again, like she could walk right up to him and fall into an easy conversation, and she hated that feeling.
She loved him.
He kissed her.
He left.
That had been the entirety of their bitter story. She discovered he moved away when she came home for winter break. No email. No text. Just an empty house next door. The old hurt came back, making it easier to meet his gaze with a challenge. Her so-called best friend vanished twelve years ago and never once tried to contact her. Their friendship hadn’t meant as much to him as it did to her, if it meant anything at all.
Fuck Mads Sommerfeldt.
Mads
He feltOdessa’s light before he saw her, a spark in the fading light of twilight. Time and distance had made the mating bond stronger, not weaker, and his body sang with the need to be close and fold her in his arms. He craved the easy contact of their youth, when they sat side by side and her fingers casually combed through his hair. She was his bonded mate now but she had always been his friend, and he missed his friend.
She was older—they both were—but it suited her. Experience and confidence refined her, elevating her from pretty to stunning. Dark hair had been pulled back loosely. She wore a bright red wool coat but could not be bothered to button up. A red-haired child danced around her feet, begging for attention, but all her focus was on him and all his attention was centered on her scowl.
