Page 49 of Home to Christmas Island
I think in my fragile state at the time it was easier to try and mold myself into what he wanted. I’m pretty good at dissociating, in case you haven’t picked up on that yet, and I didn’t really want to be myself anyway. That person has known too much pain. So, if I could be someone else, someone better, maybe things didn’t have to be so hard.
He stops walking and faces me.
And now?
I bite my lip, thinking. I’m not sure. I feel more like myself, being here. Being home. I don’t say, being with you, but I think he hears it in my pause. I really don’t want him to push me further on this point—I’m not ready to go there yet. And I think he realizes that, too.
He leans forward and kisses me softly, barely a whisper of a kiss. I frown at how quickly he pulls away from me.
Okay, next question—
He doesn’t get to finish asking before I interject, This really is an interrogation.
He scoffs, but steps closer into my space again, towering over again. He takes my other hand in his, holding them both to his chest.
Do you trust me? The question is so direct, so quiet, so Alistair.
No, I say, almost out of habit.
Liar, he says again, his mouth hovering over mine. Can you do me a favour and not be a pain in my ass for one minute? I want you to stand here for thirty seconds with your eyes closed.
I feel a little panicky at this. Why?
Please trust me, ‘Just Florence.’ I’ll tell you if you really want me to, but I think you’ll like the surprise.
I swallow. My eyes rove over his face, where I find only openness and a hint of something like excitement.
I nod and close my eyes.
Alistair kisses both of my gloved hands before I can hear him walk away. After a few seconds I peek out of one eye, but I can see only darkness and the trees.
This is a little creepy, I call out to him. If this is where you finally reveal yourself to be a murderer, I’m going to be super pissed. You saw me in the snowbank with Alba that day, I’m not afraid to fight back!
I can hear him laughing, but he’s definitely not close by.
Just keep your eyes closed, Red Sizzler, he calls back to me. It’s not long before I can hear him jog again in my direction. Before I open my eyes, he takes both of my hands in his and pulls me in to kiss him, a little harder than before. I feel the heat spread up the back of my neck.
He pulls away, grinning, and asks, Ready?
Ready for what?
He only shakes his head and starts to lead me down the path, Come on.
There’s a little bend in the woods and I realize we’re about to go around a corner.
Alistair is watching me closely as we take the turn, and I catch a glimpse of light.
What is that? I ask, unable to stop my smile.
We keep walking and it almost takes my breath away. There is a clearing right after the corner of the path, and a single balsam fir stands in the centre of it. I would guess it’s about sixteen feet tall, looming in the empty space around it. It’s wrapped entirely in Christmas lights, glowing brightly and illuminating the surrounding woods.
How? I ask, my voice a little breathless. There’s not an extension cord long enough to reach all the way out here.
He points to the bottom of the tree. They attach to a little battery pack there. He must have come up ahead of me so he could turn the lights on.
When? I say, laughing at my own inability to speak.
He puts his arm around my shoulders, pulling me nearer as we stare up at the tree.
