A Christmas Delight

21. Chapter Twenty-one

Chapter Twenty-one

Maisie

I plug my Christmas lights as soon as I walk in, sighing, as I do every night after work. I was so proud of myself for setting up a timer for those lights to come on automatically at six pm every day. So much for that.

Stand up for yourself, Maisie.

I find Mom in the spare bedroom, folding her freshly washed clothes. “Mom, could you leave the lights plugged in, please?”

She gives me the look. “It’s not like you’re here to see them. And you know, that’s not really good for the environment.”

I inhale, debating between asking again or dropping the issue. Are Christmas lights a hill I want to die on? It’s not worth it, even if the sight of my unlit Christmas tree is irritating.

“So, tomorrow night—”

“Is there something between you and that guy? Your neighbor?” she asks, her eyebrows bunching up together and her head cocked, as though I’m a teenager who needs to be scolded.

“Yes, actually.”

Her lips tighten in a slight wince.

“We’re dating,” I add for good measure.

“Hm.” She turns back to the small pile of laundry on the bed.

“What?”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“But you want to.”

She turns back to me, crossing her arms and shrugging at the same time, looking away as though she doesn’t know what to say, even though she knows exactly. “I just think you could do better.”

Like the guy who called me fat?

I decide to ignore that and focus on Randall’s invite instead. “His dad has invited me over for dinner on Saturday. There will be Joel and his brother Brent too. Would you like to come?”

Randall invited both me and Nina, though Nina couldn’t make it, so I suppose it’s okay to invite Mom. She considers it, pursing her mouth into a pout, and I’m finding myself hoping she’ll say no.

“I guess so. It’s this or staying alone. Again.”

My arms drop at my side. I once again sense the duality in my feelings, guilt and irritation. I open my mouth, ready to tell her that I can’t stop living because she decided to show up unexpectedly, but it’ll only make things worse.

“It’ll be fun,” I say instead. “And when you get to know Joel, you’ll see he’s a great guy.”

We don’t talk about it anymore that night. I do my best to be of good company, and later we watch a funny movie together.

By the time Saturday evening rolls in, Mom has fixed a smile on her face and is surprisingly polite to Joel when we meet him in the driveway. The ride to Randall’s house is peaceful, filled with Christmas music as we look at the lights in the streets. Joel is quiet. He looks a little tense, his jaw set. I can’t tell if it’s because my mom is here or if it’s something else. I’ll have to ask him when we get a moment alone.

When Joel parks in front of his dad’s house, the spectacle that greets us puts the town’s lights—and mine—to shame. A gasp of awe catches in my throat as I step out of the truck, my eyes no doubt reflecting back the thousand lights decorating the house. They cover the front yard, the walls, all the way up to the tip of the roof, blinking and rapidly changing colors. The whole thing could compete for the most beautiful Christmas lights in town.

“Wow,” I breathe out.

“I thought you’d like it,” Joel says, grinning.

“I think your dad is my spirit animal.”

That makes him laugh.

“That must have been a lot of work,” Mom says. “Beautiful.”

A part of me is glad she can say that in front of Joel, while another is annoyed at her for pretending to like it when she keeps unplugging my decorations.

“It’s this way,” Joel says. “Obviously.”

The path to the door is lit by multicolored garland on both sides. I look in wonder at the huge, lit sleigh, the Santa riding on it, and the reindeer ahead of it. Little Christmas trees are spread over the front yard. The whole thing glistens in the night.

Next to the front door is a sort of lamppost about my height that looks like a snow globe twice as big as my head with penguins dancing and snow swirling to the sound of Jingle Bells.

The door opens before we reach it. Randall smiles wide, opening his arms to us. “Welcome!”

He wears a knit Christmas sweater, and the sight of it makes me smile, as I’m also wearing one, even though Mom made a face. I even accessorized with my sparkly Christmas tree earrings. She told me I looked childish, but right now, in this house, hugging a huge man wearing a Christmas sweater as colorful as mine, I feel at ease.

Randall shakes Mom’s hand warmly, getting a smile out of her.

“Please, come in,” he says. “I’ll give you a tour.”

The inside is as well decorated as the outside. It’s all wood and warmth, with a fire roaring in the living room and a delicious smell floating from the kitchen. Upstairs are the bedrooms.

“This used to be Joel’s bedroom growing up,” Randall says.

I look inside, my curiosity flaring. It looks like a regular guest room now, though, tidy and bare except for a bed, a nightstand, and a dresser. The window gives a view of the backyard.

Back downstairs, we find Brent setting the table. The evening is pleasant, and Randall serves us what he calls his famous meatloaf, which makes Brent and Joel eye each other and laugh. No laughing on my part. This meatloaf is the best meatloaf I’ve ever eaten. Randall tells me about Joel and Brent, how they were as kids, listing me all their milestones and accomplishments.

Joel shakes his head a few times. “We got it, Dad.”

But Randall can’t stop rambling about Joel’s ice hockey days and how good he was. I smile, glancing at Joel. He smiles back. Some of that uneasiness he seemed to carry earlier has vanished, though it’s not all gone. Is he embarrassed to have his dad tell stories about him?

Honestly, I wouldn’t be embarrassed if my mom wanted to ramble about me, about how proud she is of me, no matter how big or small or insignificant my accomplishments are. It truly warms my heart to see a parent openly show how much he loves his sons.

“Maisie was never much of an athlete,” Mom says. “She’d rather sit and knit.”

I force a chuckle out of my mouth as I glance at her.

She grins and elbows me. “I’m kidding.”

“My business is my workout now,” I say. “Baking and standing up all day is pretty tiring.”

She purses her lips, ready to contradict me, but Randall speaks before she can. “That is hard work. Not everyone could do what you do.”

Okay, I love this man. Well, not love, but like him a lot for sure. “Thank you. I appreciate that.”

The dessert that follows the meal is equally as delicious as the main course, and my mother is relatively pleasant with everyone, me as well. Brent tells us stories about their childhood, trying to embarrass Joel as much as he can. I laugh the whole evening, having the time of my life. I envy their dynamic as a family, and I can’t get over how good it feels every time Randall lifts me up, telling me I do an incredible job, bake amazing donuts, knit the greatest cup sweaters he’s ever seen, and so on.

Take note, Mom, take note.

“By the way, Maisie,” Randall says suddenly. “There is an open vendor booth at the Christmas fair. I talked to the organizers, if you want it, it’s yours.”

I gasp. I had completely forgotten about the fair. Joel had said he’d talk to his dad about it, and he did. “Wow, really? Yes, we totally want the spot.”

“I’ll tell them. I’ll put you in contact with them as well. That way you can ask them questions directly, and they’ll help you. Very nice people, they are.”

“Thank you so much. I cannot tell you how much I appreciate that. Nina will freak out.”

After the dessert, I excuse myself for a minute. I walk down the hallway to where the bathroom is. Once I’m done and make sure my hair isn’t too crazy, I come back out. Picture frames hang onto the wall to my right, and I stop to gaze at them. One catches my eye. A couple stands together in the snow, two young boys in front of them. I easily recognize Randall, Joel, and Brent. Joel must be around ten in that picture. I look at the woman. She has wavy brown hair, a kind smile, and wears the type of knit sweaters I love.

“My mom, as I’m sure you guessed.”

I turn to the voice. Brent walks up to me and looks at the picture.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” I say. “Even if it was a long time ago.”

“Yeah, thanks.” He gazes at the photo a little longer, then inhales, turning to me. “Hey, um, what I’m gonna say might sound weird but…”

“What is it?”

He hesitates a moment. “I’m glad Joel found you. Honestly. I really thought he was a lost cause since his last breakup.”

“I heard it didn’t end well.”

“That’s an understatement.”

“She cheated on him, right?”

He sighs. “She did. The breakup was pretty ugly. A lot messier than it should have been.”

I cock my head. “What happened? I just know she cheated on him with a friend of his.”

“Well, I was the one to find out, actually. Dad and I were visiting him for the wedding, and I saw Catherine with that dude. The day of the wedding.”

“The day of?”

“That morning, yeah. Like, not even two hours before the ceremony.”

“That’s awful.”

“It was. Joel confronted her, called off the whole thing, and decided to leave. But it didn’t end there.”

“No?”

Brent shakes his head. “She lied to everyone. She said he’d been the one cheating on her. He received countless calls, voicemails, texts from her parents, her siblings, her friends to tell him how much of a piece of trash he was. My dad and I were with him. It was awful. They harassed him for weeks. Imagine that. Having so many people against you, sending you horrible messages and voicemails all day. All that because Catherine told everyone he’d run with his mistress on their wedding day.”

I listen, one hand pressed against my chest, my mouth ajar.

“Then her parents threatened to take him to court and said the only way they wouldn’t was if he paid a good amount of money to reimburse them for the donations they’d made for the wedding. Joel had been nice enough to keep the story to himself. Even after what she did, he didn’t want to embarrass her. But that was the straw that broke the camel’s back. He told them the real reason the wedding was off, and while they didn’t believe him at first, they eventually stopped contacting him. I guess they found out it was true.”

“I didn’t know all that.” I want to hug Joel so badly. Squeeze him and protect him from the cruel world.

“The worst to me was that for a while, he truly started believing he was at fault. That he was a bad person, and he deserved everything that was happening to him. So, anyway… What I initially wanted to say was, be patient with him. He still has trust issues. But he really fell for you.”

A smile lifts my lips. “So did I.”

“You guys talking about me?” Joel walks up to us, eyeing us suspiciously.

“I was telling her how much of a butthead you were, and that she should run while she can,” Brent says, earning a playful shove. “Alright, gonna head back.”

He leaves us, chuckling to himself.

“Seriously, what were you talking about?” Joel asks, cocking an eyebrow.

“He was telling me about the things that happened with your ex and all.”

“Oh yeah?”

“I didn’t initiate that conversation, I promise.”

He looks at me, trying to smile, though it doesn’t stick to his face. “That’s okay. I would have told you, but I don’t like to think about it. All these people hated me and were set on making my life a living hell. Not really good memories.”

I close the distance between us, cup his neck, and stand on my toes to kiss him, slowly, tenderly.

“I wish I could take the pain away,” I whisper.

He wraps his arms around me, pulling me closer. “You already did.”

That feeling I had earlier about something being a little off with him melts away as we kiss again. I’m sure everything’s fine.