Seven Minutes of Christmas Magic by K.L. Brady

Author:K.L. Brady [Brady, K.L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: LadyLit Press

Chapter 15

Nixon

* * *

I’m at the corner of First and H in Northeast. It’s evening, and there’s nothing in the air except the white of my breath and the glimmer of holiday cheer. City employees finish their day’s work, twisting lighted garland around street lamps as I watch and wait. I turn to see her approaching.

Mia.

I can’t stop myself from smiling. She radiates a light that brightens my dark places. I force myself to remain calm.

“There he is!” She greets me with amazement in her voice, as if she didn’t expect to see me. “I’ve got a surprise up my sleeve. A little something-something that is critical to our foundation if we’re going to take this thing between us to the next level.”

“Okay, I’ll bite. What is it?”

“Follow me.” She grabs my hand, intertwines her fingers with mine, and we stroll in a direction that is new to me but seems routine to her. For the first time in a long time, it not only begins to look like Christmas but also feels like the season, and she’s the reason. Decorations dangle from every post, window, and doorway; lights and wreaths alike are strung along the main thoroughfares. The corners of my mouth and spirits lift with every step.

“So maybe we can walk and talk while we’re on the way,” she says, filling the silence that previously consisted of only footsteps. “Tell me about yourself. What’s your favorite Christmas memory?”

This answer is easy, and the memories surface without effort, a reason why I’ve avoided engaging in seasonal festivities until this year.

“Without question—the hunt for the tree. My dad would always take me to the lot to select a fresh one. My choice. He never cared how big or small or ugly the thing was. He’d always let me choose it, and every tree I picked, no matter how unsightly, was always the most perfect McCloud family tree in the world. At least he made me feel that way, and trust me, Charlie Brown’s tree had nothing on the beauts we took home. Check it out, this one I picked, I dunno, I must’ve been nine; it was missing limbs and had a gaping hole on one side.”

“Oh, no.”

“Oh, yes. The absolute ugliest tree on the lot. But I was determined to buy it because I didn’t want to abandon a tree in trouble. So, dad bought it, and we lugged the monstrosity home and decorated it. Mom said it was so ugly a dog wouldn’t even pee on it.”

We both stop in our tracks and fold over with hilarity. Her laugh is like music to me, and her smile is fine art. I want to know the secret to keeping it there.

“But with lights and a train, we made the best of it. Boy, she got so mad she had to look at that thing for two months. I think she served Brussels sprouts until March. I hated them. The better my tree selections became, the fewer Brussels sprouts I ate.

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