Page 46 of The Holidays with Mr. Mitchell
I watched as Laney and Ash embraced Avery, and the ladies took over with ordering more cinnamon rolls, peppermint mochas, and fully indulging in the family experience of the Christmas tree farm.
“So?” Jake said with a chuckle. “You have two more hours to stall out of signing those permits, so Cat has to wait until Monday morning.”
“I’m running out of bullshit to say, man,” I answered, bringing the black coffee to my lips for a much-needed sip.
“That’s why we’re here, good man,” Collin clapped me on the back, “to take over the bullshitting part for you, and waste another two hours.”
“What do you plan on doing?” I questioned.
“Thinking outside of the box, unlike your boring ass,” Jake said. “Hey kids, who’s ready to load up in a horse-drawn wagon to journey up into those hills?” he pointed to where rows and rows of trees were filled with families searching either on foot or using these wagons to search for one.
“Oh, shit,” Avery said, looking up at the endless rows of trees, “we don’t have to go that route. Jim found one that points west with needles that won’t fall until after Christmas.”
My mouth tightened, trying not to laugh at her falling for the shit I’d made up about the trees. She made it sound more believable than I did.
“Pointswest?” Collin looked at me. “No, no, no. That’s all wrong. Ithasto point on a north-easterly pattern.”
“Right,” Jake played along. “It must feel as if it were in its former environment when it’s set in the house.”
“Is this shit for real?” Avery said. I could tell she wanted to rightfully tell us we were all a bunch of fucking morons, but she was unsure since the guys didn’t skip a beat. “Why?”
“Because the needles will last longer, of course,” I answered. “It’s what I was trying to say when I was examining them earlier.”
“Do you guys do this when you’re picking out real Christmas trees?” Avery asked Ash and Elena, who were staring at the rest of us as if we were just the usual dipshits they were used to.
“No,” Laney answered with a laugh. “In fact, it’s our tradition since my and Collin’s first date torescuethe brown trees that are dying and won’t make it to a home this year.”
“Oh, now that’s an idea,” I said. “How about we decorate the Malibu house with rescues?”
“Jim, you’re not serious. That was Collin and Elena’s joke,” Avery said with a laugh of disbelief. “Dead Christmas trees aren’t shelter dogs needing homes for Christmas.”
“We also have a tradition,” Jake added, ignoring Avery arguing with me. “We always sing Christmas carols while deciding on our tree. It just adds sort of an alpine-scented touch of magic to the one we choose to place our gifts under for the holiday season.”
“Sort of like blessing it with a Christmas welcoming into our home,” Collin smirked.
“Ah,” I added. “So, once the tree is chosen…”
“We celebrate and bless it with our family’s Christmas carol and sing before cutting it down and bringing it off the lot and to our homes,” Jake said, trying not to laugh.
“Of course, you two would do this type of shit,” Avery laughed.
Collin frowned. “Why wouldn’t we? What the hell do you and Jim do?” he questioned, acting perplexed that his ludicrous idea wasn’t being taken seriously.
Avery eyed me in humor. “We just have the staff pull our artificial one out of storage and set it up for us like it is right now.”
“And you don’t sing for it? Like, to the tune ofOh, Christmas Tree?” Jake questioned.
I sighed. “Sadly, it’s not a real tree sacrificing its life for our family at Christmas,” I said, pretending to be a pathetic bastard.
“True,” Collin said, while Laney and Ash stayed busy with the kids and Avery focused on my brother and his best friend picking live Christmas trees for their homes. “That’s why we’re thrilled that this whole ‘screw the company over for Christmas’ plan ended up making you go down this road with our families and the live-tree chaos.”
“That’s what this is all about?” Avery finally said, looking at me. “Your guilt?”
“I just couldn’t bear anyone believing I was Scrooge, my love,” I said, extending my hand toward her. “Let’s go sing carols and get the first traditional and perfect Mitchell family Christmas tree.”
“Don’t forget,” Collin added, “no onecomes to a Christmas tree farm with me and takes the perfect tree without rescuing a brown one from the chipper.”
My lips tightened at how perfect this had ended up. Instead of being pissed, Avery had fallen in line with all the nonsense, and by the time it was too late to sign permits, we were all singing Christmas carols around the tree to bring itChristmasmagic.
