Page 28 of A DIY Christmas Miracle
I sighed softly because I knew I wouldn’tnotanswer him. Part of me even wanted him to know. Part of me wanted to open up to him, to let him in on all of my secrets. Part of me wished he’d do the same. That we’d become the person the other one could tell everything. The one person they could always turn to. “I already told you I haven’t always lived in Canada. At one point, my father was offered a teaching position in Vancouver, he agreed, and we moved from England to Canada. Anyway, we’d been living in Canada for a few months when the Christmas season started. My parents had already made friends, and my mom was of the opinion that you had to adapt to a new culture. So she asked all of their new friends about ‘Canadian Christmas traditions.’ One of them told her a lot of people watchThe Nutcrackerat Christmastime, so she and my father, who was elated a Canadian Christmas tradition included something of ‘literary and artistic value,’ latched onto it, and… we’ve been watching the ballet every year since.
“I thought it was really boring at first, but if your father only ever wants to do something with you if it has something to do with literature or art, you eventually learn to look forward to it. Not because you’re that interested in Shakespeare or ballet, but because it’s the one way to spend time with your father.”
I shrugged and tried to swallow the lump that was forming in my throat.
If Eli hadn’t suggested this trip, I’d have spent Christmas on my own. Sitting on the sofa,A Christmas Carolright next to me on the couch while watching a performance ofThe Nutcrackeron TV. All alone.
My parents hadn’t even bothered to invite me over for Christmas because it’d have beenimpracticalfor me to fly out to England just to celebrate a holiday I’d long outgrown.
Eli’s hand appeared on my arm, sending a series of tiny electric shocks across my skin all the way down to the tips of my fingers.
“I know exactly what you mean.” Eli’s hand carefully caressed my arm, goosebumps raising all over my body. My heart started beating faster, heat spreading throughout my whole body. I looked down into his face, seeing it was twisted in melancholy. “There’s a reason I’ve been celebrating Christmas with Cassy and Jack for years.”
I remained silent because I didn’t know if or what I should say that didn’t sound like a hollow phrase that didn’t even begin to express what I really wanted to say. Sometimes words just weren’t enough.
Chapter 11
Will
Upon waking up the next morning — once again cuddled up against Eli, one leg slung over his hips — I was surprised but incredibly relieved to find him still fast asleep in bed. I’d been sure he’d find out about my nightly cuddling attacks; tonight’s being the latest. It seemed crazy to think I’d get away with it for three nights in a row, especially because today was Christmas Day.
But Eli was still sleeping like a rock. If it wasn’t for the fact that I could see his chest rising and falling, I’d be worried about whether he was still alive. Slowly and with extra care, I pulled back, constantly checking for a reaction, but there weren’t any. He didn’t move an inch, didn’t grumble, nothing.
He simply continued sleeping.
After what Jack had told me about their family Christmases, I’d half expected Eli to wake me up at the crack of dawn. I’d kinda hoped he’d be too excited about exchanging gifts to scold me over abusing him as a pillow at night.
A part of me had been excited to see the Eli Jack had told me about; all cheerful, cheeks glowing, bouncing around like a kid running on a sugar high.
But that wasn’t the case.
He was still lying in bed when I left the bathroom, freshly showered.
I quietly tiptoed to my side of the bed, grabbed my phone from the bedside table, and checked the time. Maybe my internal clock had gotten messed up and I’d just gotten up and showered at like three in the morning, but… no. My phone clearly showed that it was already eight-thirty AM.
Was something wrong with him?
Shaking my head, I studied him for a while, his tousled hair, his closed eyes, his lashes resting in dark crescents on his cheeks. His full, pink lips slightly parted. Occasionally, he scrunched up his nose, but it was the only movement besides his even breathing.
Tearing myself from the sight of him, I quietly slipped out of the room.
Maybe Eli was just exhausted after spending the month of December teaching elementary school kids who were hyped up for Christmas break and now had a lot of sleep to get caught up on. I still felt drained from the last few weeks, so I couldn’t imagine what it was like for him.
“Morning,” an unhappy, grumbling voice greeted me, “’n’ M…Chrstm…” It was nearly impossible to make out Jack’s words at all, but ‘m…chrstm…’ was enough to fill in the gaps.
“Good Morning, and Merry Christmas to you, too,” I replied before walking right past Jack and straight to the coffee machine to pour myself a cup.
“Where’s Eli?”
“In bed.” With a steaming cup of coffee in hand, I sat down next to Jack at the breakfast bar. “He’s still fast asleep.”
Jack raised an eyebrow at me and made an unintelligible sound that even I couldn’t understand. You’d probably need a bear whisperer to make sense of that grunting.
Taking a careful sip of coffee so I didn’t accidentally burn myself, I looked at Jack, who emptied his own mug in one big, long gulp.
“Better,” he murmured quietly, then slid off the stool and refilled his mug with more coffee and a big glug of creamer.
“That tired?”
