Trapped Under the Christmas Tree (Christmas Tree, PA Sweet Romcom #1)

Chapter 8

Tessa

It’s a small town. Jake has to know that I don’t have a boyfriend.

Actually, maybe he doesn’t. Maybe I’m so invisible to him that he has no idea. I, of course, know that he swore off girlfriends five years ago. He’d gone through three or four terrible breakups, where he got together with a girl, and then in one case, she found someone better, in another case, she’d moved out of town, and I think two of them decided they didn’t want to be married to a farmer.

What does that say that he doesn’t even know whether I have a current boyfriend, and I know his whole history? It says I’m pathetic.

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” I finally say. Maybe it’s a little flat, because I’m annoyed that I know so much about him, and he doesn’t even know that I’m available.

Of course, if he swore off dating and girls, then I suppose that he probably isn’t paying attention. Maybe he’s not paying attention to anyone, and it’s not just me.

“I’m sorry. I guess I knew that. I... I was just trying to make conversation.”

“You don’t have to apologize. You don’t need to know what is going on in my personal life.”

“I should know everything about my rescuer. Although, it’s hard for me to get into this whole damsel-in-distress mode.”

“You’re making a very good damsel in distress.” I’m teasing, and he understands immediately because I feel him chuckle beside me. I slip my arms over his, and he seems to press back into my warmth.

“I think my teeth are going to stop chattering. I really appreciate you doing this.”

“Maybe I should get a chainsaw and start cutting the tree.”

“I hate to do that. I know that we probably won’t be able to get another one this nice. The tree farm has more, but they’ve got trees earmarked for the town to use for the next twenty years.”

“Trees don’t get this big overnight,” I say, agreeing with him.

I get the feeling that he wants to chastise himself for ruining it for the town. So I say, “I think it’s going to be totally salvageable. I didn’t see any broken branches. That doesn’t mean there aren’t any, but I bet if Bob Turner comes with his truss truck, he’ll be able to set it up in fairly quick order.” I think about leaving him and him getting cold while he waits for them to pick the tree up. “I wonder if they’ll allow me to stay with you while they pick it up?”

“They might be afraid you’ll get hurt somehow.”

“I think they will if I insist.” I really don’t want him to get hypothermia.

“If they suggest you not do it, it might be wise for you to listen to them.”

“Sometimes trusting the experts means checking one’s brain at the door, and I don’t believe that either. Lots of experts disagree, so that means that lots of experts are wrong, right?”

“I feel like you’re walking a tightrope there,” he says, seeming to realize that I want to be careful about what I say.

“I was just thinking that experts disagree with each other. So that means that one side has to be wrong? And sometimes, we just need to choose what’s best for ourselves after listening to all the facts. We might choose the wrong thing, but that doesn’t make us bad people.”

“I agree. That’s part of what being American is. We don’t have the government or something else telling us what to do. We can choose for ourselves, which is a God-given right from our creator.”

“I think some people don’t understand that. But God gave us free choice, right? He doesn’t insist that we have to follow Him. We’re allowed to decide for ourselves. Obviously, I feel like there is a wrong choice in that, but lots of people make it. And God allows that.”

“Yeah. He does. Sometimes I don’t understand why. And sometimes I don’t want to give the same grace that He does.”

“No. I want to force people to believe the way I want them to.”

“This seems to be human nature. Because even about things that aren’t religious, people want you to believe their way and get angry and call you names if you don’t.”

“It’s sad. But it happens all the time. Good people and bad people doing that.”

“Yeah. In our country, we can make the decision that we want to make, and we shouldn’t be vilified for not agreeing with certain experts, since there are other experts who almost certainly disagree.”

I didn’t realize we had so much in common along these lines of thought. I’ve found someone who believes exactly the same way I do.

“I think that there should be a general consensus about morality, though.” I say this cautiously, since there is a very high chance that he might disagree with me.

“I agree,” he says, and I immediately relax. “I guess we used to, in our country. Since we have the ten commandments up on many of our state buildings. It seems like everyone can agree that those are general guidelines that are good no matter what you believe.”

“All right. I was afraid that we would disagree on that, but I see that we don’t.”

He huffs out of breath, and it feels cozy in here. Us under the tent, getting warm, the freezing rain tapping down on our flimsy covering, but us insulated together, warm and snuggled up.

“I’m sorry, but this feels cozy to me,” I say. And then, I wish I wouldn’t have.