A Christmas Delight

5. Chapter Five

Chapter Five

Maisie

I stare into the box of outdoor Christmas decorations, and it stares back at me. Since coming back from work, I’ve been unpacking, but my progress is cut short by the sight of that box. Should I? Probably not. I usually put the Christmas tree and the decorations inside before I tackle the outside. The thing is, I used to have a balcony, so I couldn’t put much outside. Now I have a whole front yard. And even though I don’t have a Christmas tree yet, and we’re only a few days shy of December, these outside lights and decorations are calling my name.

All those well-decorated houses have always filled my eyes with stars and my heart with a strange sort of longing. When I saw Target’s sales on Christmas lights last January, I knew I had to have them. I don’t want to wait another day to put them up. I’ll create my perfect Christmas the way I want to, and no one’s here to rain on my parade.

Except maybe Joel. Will he mind if I put those lights up? I already have to keep the Christmas music down, so he might not be too happy about the lights. It still feels like I irritate him, even after he helped clean up my side of the driveway. He didn’t seem thrilled to do it. I’m sure his goal was for me to stop making noise by shoveling snow all evening. I was hoping offering him free coffee would help, but I’m not sure it did. He didn’t come to the Donut Delight this morning. Will he come yell at me because of the lights? Would offering a free donut as well sweeten the deal? Pretty sure men can be tamed if you throw food at them.

You know what? I’m not going to let a grumpy man ruin my fun. I grab my huge box and drag it to the front door. Nina and I are working in shifts now. Yesterday we both wanted to be there. But today, I worked the early morning shift, which means I was off at three, and Nina will be closing. I have nearly two hours until the sun goes down. Once I’m bundled up, I head outside.

I prepare myself mentally for the whole process to be hard. And it is. But it’s also fun. So much fun. While my front yard is covered in snow, the sky is clear, making it easy for me. I lose track of time as I hang all the pretty things.

There’s a shooting star outside each window, a colorful wreath on the door, two reindeer in the front yard along with an inflatable snowman, and in the middle, lighting the path to the front door, are red and white candy canes.

The sky is darkening already. But it’s almost done. There’s that one garland with big, multicolored bulbs that I want to put along the base of the roof. It’s the perfect length. My only problem is that I’m scared of heights and just the idea of stepping onto the stepladder makes my legs shake. It’s ridiculous, and plenty of people have made fun of me for that, but I can’t control it. Even a stepladder is too high for me.

Taking a deep, controlled breath, I drag the stepladder under the edge of the roof, garland in hand. I can do this. I climb, slowly, hanging tight onto the ladder. It’s not the hard part. The hard part is when I have to stand at the top, raise my head, and lift my arms. I have to do it three times before I start hanging the garland. Lucky me, the previous owner must have had the same idea. Little nails are already planted in the wood, allowing me to fit the wires around them.

Even if the rational voice in my head is telling me that I’m four literal feet above the ground, five at most, my body keeps switching into fight or flight mode. My legs shake, and it feels like I’m going to fall backward.

Death by falling from a stepladder would not be my choice, honestly. But I’m set on doing this thing, so I power through, even though hot flashes are spreading down my back. I hang onto the roof for a second, steadying myself, then take off my coat. It falls on the soft snow, and the cold air allows me to breathe a little better. My hands begin shaking as soon as I resume fitting the garland onto the nails. The stepladder trembles under me. I fight the urge to get off, otherwise I’ll never get this done.

I move from nail to nail, until I have to extend my arms to the right. My balance feels precarious. For the next nail, I’ll have to move the stepladder. My right arm burns, and my neck hurts but I’m almost there. The wires don’t want to wrap around the nail the way I want them to, but if I stop now, I may not have the courage to get back into that same awkward and scary position. I finally manage to make the wires go around the head of the nail, except for one. It’s keeping me from pushing further. My arm is about to give out, but if I stop the whole thing is going to fall. I give one last push, and two things happen at the same time.

One, the wire gets unstuck, and this part of the garland is finally fixed to the nail. Two, the little push I gave tipped the stepladder backwards. The falling ladder deprives my feet of their support. I tip forward, reaching for the edge of the roof to avoid face-planting on the ground. It’s covered in snow, so it wouldn’t be as painful as it could be otherwise, but my reflexes take over and I find myself hanging onto the roof for dear life. If only I could extend my arms, I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t be that high above the ground, but it’s like my body is locked, and I can’t move, my heart thundering in my ribcage. I’ll stay like this until my exhausted muscles give out, I guess.

Something grabs my legs, and a yelp escapes me.

“You okay?” a deep voice says.

I want to die. Seriously. My soul came back inside my body yesterday, a while after I almost broke into this guy’s house. But now I can feel it leave again. Poof, gone. Bye, soul. I’ll never retrieve it this time. Why has the same person witnessed two of my stupidest moments?

“Oh. Hi, John.”

“It’s Joel.”

Right. I knew that. My brain is a bit scrambled right now. “I’m fine,” I say, my voice shaking as much as my arms. “The view’s great from up there.”

“Extend your arms and let go.”

“I don’t think I can. My body’s not responding to me.”

“I’ve got you. I’m right here.”

He sounds calm. Probably because he knows I’m not in any real danger. I take a deep breath and lower myself. I can finally see him, looking up at me. He can almost reach for my waist now.

“Let go,” Joel says. “I won’t let you fall.”

I hesitate despite myself. My fingers are cramped and painful. My feet don’t hover that high up above the ground, but it feels like miles, sending little chills up my legs.

“I promise,” he adds.

I let go. My heart is in my throat the moment my body drops, but less than half a second after, strong hands clasp around my waist. It’s a little awkward, the way I hang on to him and how my body slides down against his. Thoughts fly through my head as I cling onto him. How I’m too chubby for anyone to hold me in their arms, how he must think I’m heavy and is now regretting his decision to help me.

But the reality is that he looks unbothered. I can feel the muscles in his shoulders and strong arms under his flannel shirt, and it occurs to me that this guy could lift pretty much anything he wants to.

My boots sink in the snow, but it takes me a short moment to let go of him. Joel doesn’t do or say anything. He waits for me to be ready to pull away, which I finally do, faltering a little, still dizzy from the whole thing. His large hands grab my arms, steadying me.

“You okay?”

I nod, a little out of breath. “Only my pride’s hurt.”

He lets go of me and puts the stepladder back on its feet. He gazes at my house, frowning, then at the front yard. “That is a lot of lights.”

“That’s on purpose.”

“Do you really need that many?”

My shoulders drop. For a moment, he seemed nice, but now I remember the way he greeted me last night when I mistakenly tried to open his door, and how heated he got with that other dude. “You’re right, I really don’t need that many. I should take them down.”

He frowns. “Really?”

“No.”

His face is as stoic and expressionless as it was yesterday. “I fear for your electricity bill.”

“That’s my Christmas gift to myself.”

He looks at me with an expression on his face I can’t translate. Is he gonna laugh in my face? Or tell me all this is stupid? Or just leave without saying a word? Nothing would surprise me.

“Do you need help?” he asks.

I do a double take. I was wrong, this answer does surprise me. My first reflex is to want to say no. I’m a big girl, thank you. I can manage. I don’t need a man’s help. Then I look at the garland of lights pitifully hanging from the roof and get chills just thinking about stepping on that stepladder again.

“You know what you’re doing, clearly,” he adds, glancing around the decorations I’ve already put up. “But this one looks tricky.”

Is he saying that just to be nice? Did he somehow understand that I was too proud to ask for help? The thing is, what he said does appease me a little, as much as it hurts to admit.

I nod. “Sure. That’d be great.”

He drags the stepladder and places it just under the roof. He climbs it confidently and looking at him a few feet above the ground makes me shudder. I really hate heights, even tiny ones. He grabs my garland and fits it over the nail, then moves on to the next one.

“Thanks for doing this,” I say. “And for catching me.”

“Sure.”

“Sorry about last night. I don’t know what got into me.”

“Could happen to anyone,” he says, stepping down and moving the ladder.

I let out a small laugh. “Could it, really?”

Joel chuckles, a sound that’s surprisingly warm. I didn’t know Lumberjack was capable of laughing. He climbs back up the stepladder and glances at me. “Probably not.”

We finish putting the garland together, me telling him how I want it to look, and him doing his best to match my vision. I’m afraid to be annoying, but he’s patient with me, and by the time he’s done, it looks perfect, exactly how I imagined it would.

The sun has set, and the cold is getting to me again. I put my coat and the Christmas beanie with the pompom back on. Joel helps me figure out where to plug what, and to my relief, I don’t need to buy any additional extension cords.

“All right, the moment of truth,” I say.

I plug everything, then trot back to the front yard next to Joel to admire my work. Lights fill my vision, making me smile so much it hurts. The reindeer are a bright yellow. The garland running above the porch is blinking red, green, orange, and blue. The candy canes light the path to the door beautifully. The shooting stars at the windows are bright and comforting, and the inflatable snowman is singing We Wish You a Merry Christmas.

“Seriously? It sings, too?” Joel says, wincing.

“Yes! What do you think? Is it pretty or what?”

Joel squints at the whole thing, then puts his hand in his jeans pocket. He takes out a pair of sunglasses, putting them on. “Much better.”

“Very funny.”

“It’s not a joke.”

“Well, let me know if you need help for your Christmas lights.”

“I don’t put any out.”

“Oh, I see. You’re one of those people who love to hate on Christmas.”

Joel shrugs. “I don’t hate it. I just don’t care for it. Thanks, though. Because of your decorations, I won’t have to turn on the lights inside my house at night.”

He looks at me through his dark sunglasses, deadpan, and I can’t help but laugh.

“Alright, have a good night, Maggie.”

“It’s Maisie, and you know it.”

He turns away, but I can see the flicker of a smile lifting a corner of his lips. “Yeah, that’s what I said.”

The jerk, he did it on purpose because I called him John by mistake. I try to bite back on a smile, but I can’t keep a chuckle from escaping my mouth as I watch him go back to his house. My eyes turn back to the Christmas lights. They’re bright and cheery and everything I wanted, but they don’t erase the stubborn feeling in my chest.

Disappointment. I’m disappointed Joel has left.