Page 167 of The Blessings of Christmas
“Right. That way they can fill the entire trunk.” She gave him a pointed look. “What mother arrives empty-handed?”
“The one thing my mother’s bringing isn't very big.” Then he closed his mouth, a muscle flexing in one cheek. Jumping up, Malcolm began to clear the paper plates. What was this about?
“Sounds like you know what you’re getting for Christmas.” She wasn't letting this go. Was Darcy coming with his mother?
Folding the empty pizza box with two strong hands, he wouldn't meet her eyes. “It's nothing. Something small. I really don't need anything.”
Maybe it was something personal. Maybe she shouldn't be asking. Sliding off the stool, Josie walked over to the large green bag and unzipped it. Did anything look as pathetic as the separate limbs of an artificial tree? Taking out the color-coded assembly sheet, she put it on the coffee table.
“I've got this. My mother has a tree like this.” Malcolm took over. In no time at all, he had all of the limbs in the correct order. She began working on the boxes. Lifting off the covers, she arranged the ornaments on her coffee table. And with each ornament, Josie’s past washed over her. The year Santa brought her a pair of roller skates had been so special.
Malcolm glanced over. “Is that all stuff you bought yourself or did it come from your folks?”
“Memories,” she said, taking out a felt ornament shaped like a roller skate. “I made this in preschool.” She held it up for him to see. Most of the glitter had fallen off over the years, but her name was still faintly visible. She looked up to find him smiling at her.
“What?” Suddenly this evening had become very personal.
“Nothing.” He scooped up a snowman made from Styrofoam. “I'm just thinking that you were probably a cute little girl with lots of curls.”
To her amazement, he reached out and fingered one of her curls. Josie felt that touch to her toes. Then Malcolm stood there studying his hand as if he wondered how that strand of hair had gotten there. “Gee, your hair is so soft.”
The words gently wrapped themselves around her heart. “I... I did have lots of curls.”
What were they talking about? Malcolm had turned and was frowning at the tree. Then he scrubbed his hands together. He was probably thinking that comment was a stupid mistake. Eager to get this evening behind her, Josie reached for a box of ornaments.
“I'd better put on the lights first,” he muttered.
“Right.” Digging down in one of the cardboard boxes, she found the strings of lights, all jumbled together.
Using his usual methodical process, Malcolm spread them all out on the floor and plugged in each string individually to make sure that no lights were burned out. “Oh great. They'll work,” he said with satisfaction. “When did you last use them?”
“I don't know.” Had she even had a tree last year? Josie couldn't recall. And right now? Her mind was a blank. This evening was such a mistake. Memories flooded back to her. Her parents had always made a ritual of decorating the tree together. That was one of her first Christmas memories. She would decorate the lower branches, while her parents worked on the top.
Malcolm should be doing this with Darcy. Wasn't that the way it went? From this year forward, Josie knew that every time she looked at her decorated tree, she would think of this Christmas. This evening with Malcolm. They decorated in silence.
When they couldn't fit one more ornament on the tree, he plugged in the lights. The tree looked magical, and she drew back to get the full effect. Of course the fact that Malcolm was standing next to the tree added a certain something.
“Come on.” Motioning her over to the tree, Malcolm pulled his phone from a back pocket. “We need a selfie.”
And before she could protest, before she could say, “Oh no we don't,” the man had taken a picture. “I'll send this to you.” A couple more clicks and it was done. She felt sick to her stomach and blamed it on the pizza.
As she began to clean up the living room, she decided to ask the hard questions. Malcolm had mentioned his mother but not one word about Darcy. And she’d waited long enough. A decent amount of time, she thought, when all she wanted to do was grab him by the neck and wring the answer from him. When would the torture really begin? When would the elegant Darcy Hightower arrive in Sweetwater Creek to assess the situation? Would they be married here or in New York? Probably New York. All kinds of questions surfaced in Josie's mind, like darts waiting to be thrown at her heart.
“You haven't mentioned your fiancée,” she said casually, closing up the empty boxes and stacking them to put in a back closet.
“Oh she's not coming.” Malcolm turned to her as if he were surprised. “Haven’t I told you?”
Josie stopped stacking. “Told me what?”
“We called it off.” He grabbed the first three boxes. “Where do you want these?”
“What do you mean you called it off?” Josie felt lightheaded and collapsed onto her blue couch so quickly that it creaked. “You mean she gave the ring back?”
“There never was a ring.” He was edging through the kitchen, where two hallways lead to the back. “Right? Left?”
“No ring? But you said you were engaged.”
Malcolm slowly walked back, set the boxes on the coffee table and plunked down next to her. He looked like her father when he’d decided to explain baseball to her years ago.
