Tiny Home for Christmas by Lucy Erin

Author:Lucy, Erin
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: New Fable Press
Published: 2023-12-06T00:00:00+00:00

December 25, 7:55 p.m.

Nick

I dab some red acrylic paint on Rudolph’s nose, and then I dip into the black with a pencil brush to draw two round eyes, generous pupils, and a matching set of eyelashes. To finish off my carving, I add white spots to the eyes to mimic reflected light.

The fire has burned through two logs since I returned from my brief stint outside, and I don’t intend to add more fuel unless Scarlett complains. Her sweater remains draped over her pillow, and her tank top remains a distraction. Not that I’m objectifying my roommate. My roomie. My winter storm buddy. I’ve just been cooped up in this tiny home for so long. I haven’t seen bare arms for a while. Not even my own. It’s a novelty.

I set Rudolph on the table. While I watch him dry, I rub the top of my wrist along the cuff of my flannel. I suppose I could join the party. Then she can be distracted by my slim-fit T-shirt and my bare arms. Maybe.

My knuckles hit the edge of the table while I’m unbuttoning. Scarlett peeks over her shoulder at me. Her eyes flick to my hands, and then her eyebrows knit together.

Okay. I guess I won’t free my arms from this five-dollar flannel that I bought from Goodwill five years ago. My laundry is piling up. I’m down to the dregs. At least it’s clean.

Acrylic paint doesn’t take long to dry. I tap Rudolph’s nose and check to see if any paint transferred. My fingerprint is clean, so I force a screw eyelet into his woody brain and call him done.

Scarlett isn’t done. She’s fashioning a star out of sticks, which I assume will go on top of the amazingly detailed Christmas tree she’s crafted out of superstorm Dillon’s messy leftovers. I clear my throat and scoot out of my bench seat with my comparatively sad offering.

She doesn’t acknowledge my approach. I stop a polite distance away, wait, and stare, trusting her keen observational skills to kick in. I’m not “sketch,” but I am aware of my special ability to make people squirm under my concentrated gaze. It’s not my fault. God gave me these eyes.

“I know you’re there,” Scarlett finally says.

“I’m done.”

Scarlett pauses her twining and looks up at me.

“You made an entire Christmas tree. I made this.” I present my Rudolph to her.

She examines it blankly, glances up at me again, and says, “It’s adorable. I’m not quite ready for it yet, though.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“I just need to attach this star. And hang the lights. And the ornaments.”

I lower myself to the floor next to Scarlett and set my Rudolph next to her with his eyes pointing in her direction. “I’m not formally trained, but I have decorated my fair share of Christmas trees. I might be able to help without ruining anything.”

Scarlett meets my eyes. A soft breath escapes her nose as she smiles. “If you promise not to break anything, I suppose you could help.

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