Page 117 of The Christmas Fix
“And now I’m doubly panicking,” Cat chugged her water, let Archie touch up her lipstick, and pasted on a dazzling for-the-cameras smile. “Let’s just get this shit over with.”
“That’s the spirit!” Drake slapped her on the shoulder.
They found their marks, and Cat wished she was standing anywhere but here for this particular reveal. Her gynecologist’s office. Jury duty. She’d thought it was a good idea, symbolic of the town, of their resilience and traditions. Now it seemed stupid. Really stupid. And they were going to hate it. They’d probably pelt her with burnt Christmas cookies. The ultimate insult.
“Rolling.”
Cat automatically shifted gears from doubting human to charming show host. “When Merry lost their official Christmas tree, an eighty-year-old pine they’ve decorated every Christmas for the past five decades, we knew we had to find a way to replace it.”
Drake smoothly took the next line while Cat stared at Noah. She was worried most about his reaction. Traditions were important to him. Hopefully this wasn’t too much of a departure.
“We give you Merry’s new Christmas tree. One that you can light for the next fifty years.” Cat’s delivery was strong even though her stomach was a roiling mess of nerves. The crane driver perfectly executed the tarp drop revealing the surprise beneath.
The crowd gasped, breaking into spontaneous applause, and Cat watched as Noah covered his mouth with his hand. No one was laughing or throwing shards of Christmas cookies her way.
The bronze statue rose twenty-five feet in the air, its sinuous metal twists were reminiscent of the branches of a perfectly shaped evergreen. It rose proud and strong, firmly rooted to the earth yet reaching for the sky.
The metal works firm she’d commissioned had outdone themselves. It was beautiful, strong, and absolutely perfect.
“Noah?” Cat called. “Can you come here please?”
He looked over his shoulder as if expecting there to be another Noah behind him. Cat crooked her finger at him, and he obeyed. Reluctant as ever to be on camera, he shoved his hands in his pockets, but there was only joy in his green eyes.
“Could you do us a favor and push this button?” Cat asked, handing him the slim remote.
He cast a glance at the cameras. “Uh, sure.” Deftly, he stabbed at the button with his gloved finger, and the crowd erupted again as the statue glowed to life.
Thousands of tiny fiber optic lights dotted the surface of the metal making it look like it was made from stars. It would be spectacular at night.
“I hope you like it,” Cat said softly. She was speaking directly to Noah, but it was everyone else that reacted. They mobbed her and Drake, a town-wide hug. Dozens of people laughing and hugging and thanking them.
The cameras gently pushed their way into the fray to capture the moment.
“Got it in one,” Paige yelled. “Let’s set up for one-on-ones.” This time, it was the crew that cheered.
Cat ducked through the crowd and slipped an arm through Noah’s. “Got a minute?” she whispered in his ear.
“I’ve got all the time in the world for you… at least until the end of the night,” he answered quietly.
“I need to show you something.” She guided him around the far side of the tree, away from the crowds and cameras and crew.
Running a finger over one of the curving branches, she found what she was looking for.
“Here. Read this,” she said, guiding him to the branch.
Noah leaned in, frowned at the tiny type. “For the boy who dreamed of the light,” he read aloud.
Cat bit her lip and watched a wave of emotions pass over his face. Those green eyes misted behind his glasses.
“For me?” he whispered the words, running his finger over and over the engraving.
She nodded, not trusting her voice.
He shoved his glasses up, wiped at his eyes.
Cat cleared her throat. “We were going to do another tree. But the timing was bad, and I wanted you to have something more. Something you could count on forever.”
“Stay.” He said it, staring at the statue before shifting his gaze to her. “Stay here, Cat. Make a home with me. A family. Whatever you want. Just stay.”
