Snowflakes

Gramma Abbey had the tree delivered to the house yesterday around four, but Harry didn't get me home until after dark. Gramma Abbey offered him a mug of hot cocoa and refused to let him walk home in the dark, claiming he'd get lost. He insisted it was no bother and that he only lived a short ways away, but he didn't know how persistent my grandmother could be. We ended up driving the poor boy home.

I thanked him for walking me home by placing a quick kiss to his left cheek, a light blush crawling over his cheeks as he tried to hide his grin. It was no use; his dimples were so prominent that even when he turned away from me, I could tell he was pleased with my show of affection. As he walked up the drive to his front door, he waved and promised to be over tomorrow after work to help us deck the halls.

I found myself sprawled across the bed, checking my phone every few minutes (okay, seconds) while wiggling around on top of the covers. Harry was supposed to get off at noon but it was about an hour after that, that the thought crossed my mind.

He might not come.

Maybe he changed his mind and decided he had better things to do. I wouldn't have blamed him if that were the case; I wasn't that crazy about the decorating today either. Ideally, all I wanted to do was curl up with a book, some hot chocolate and a fresh plate of Christmas gingerbread cookies next to the roaring fireplace. I could practically feel myself snuggling into the fluffy blanket that would cover my toes.

I had convinced myself that it sounded like heaven and I would rather do that than sit here being miserable.

I sighed and rolled myself off the edge of the mattress, nearly crashing to the floor. And by nearly, I mean most definitely. My right shoulder was the first thing to hit the carpeted floor. Fortunately, I caught myself with my left hand before my face could do the same. I groaned as I pushed myself up onto my feet with one injured shoulder.

It was quite a feat.

I slumped down the staircase, phone in hand as I rubbed my sore shoulder. I stepped into the kitchen and immediately was faced with the strong scent of gingerbread. A tray of gingerbread men was laying out on the counter next to the stove. I poured some hot water from the kettle on the stove and mixed in some instant hot chocolate.

I had a recipe for peppermint hot chocolate and holiday sugar cookies saved on my phone that I wanted to try out but I was too disappointed and lazy to actually muster up the energy to attempt it; instant would have to do.

I stirred the mixture around in the mug as I leaned against the counter. A knock startled me slightly and I placed my cup down on the countertop. I peeked my head out of the kitchen. I couldn’t see the front door, but I could hear voices being echoed down the hallway. I could pick out Gramma Abbey welcoming someone in.

I heard Gramma Abbey giving away my location. “I believe I saw Makenna sneak off into the kitchen a short time ago.”

I heard the door shut as another familiar voice was heard floating down the hallway. I felt the corners of my lips pull up into a grin as I stepped back into the kitchen to sip at my hot chocolate. I clutched my cup with both hands and pretended to take a great interest in something outside as I sensed a presence join me in the kitchen.

I caught a whiff of his scent just before he pushed himself onto the counter and stole a cookie from my plate. Before he took the first bite from the gingerbread treat, he smirked and offered a simple statement. “You don’t look happy to see me.”

“You were supposed to be here ages ago,” I turned toward him and leaned my hip on the counter, sighing dramatically.

Harry laughed lightly and swallowed before responding. “I don’t know if you realized, but the snow is up to my knees.”

I squinted my eyes at him jokingly. “But the roads are cleared.”

“You got me,” he sighed. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box. “I went to get your Christmas present after work.”

I grasped the unwrapped, white cardboard box in my fingers and sat my mug back down onto the counter and eyed him peculiarly. All he did was grin cheekily and urge me to open it. I placed my fingers around the lid and pulled it open. I tried to force down the laugh that was bubbling up from my stomach.

“A candy bracelet,” I smiled.

He nodded and laughed. “Do you like it? I put a lot of thought into it.”

I giggled. “I can definitely tell,” I slipped the string of sugar beads over my hand. It fit perfectly around my wrist and I couldn’t help but grin. “I love it, Harry. Thank you.”

Harry hopped down from the marble counter top and spread his arms out for a hug, which I gladly granted him. He released me and I grabbed a cookie from the plate, bringing it up to my mouth. He watched me as I sipped my hot chocolate.

“Why are you two mucking about in the kitchen? I need help decorating,” Gramma Abbey yelled from the living room. I shrugged at Harry and brought my mug into the lounge where the tree was set up.

The room smelled strongly of a mix of pine and peppermints. The tree was full and colorful now that Gramma Abbey had already strung ribbons on it in the place of garland. She slid a box of old ornaments over to us and asked us to begin while she made more cookies.

If there's one thing I envied about Gramma Abbey, it's that she had cookie recipes for every occasion and they were all gems. Each batch tasted so unique and yet you couldn't not like any of them.

On the other hand, I, Makenna Douglas (granddaughter of Abbey Douglas, the master cookie maker of Holmes Chapel), am most definitely the worst baker imaginable. I made a batch of snickerdoodles once, and I swear they tasted of poison and smelled of death. It wasn't even a real recipe; it was a cookie mix from a box. I have always had a remarkable talent for screwing up something perfectly simple.

I sighed and dug into the box, pulling out the first thing my fingertips touched. I looked down to the object that was clutched in my fingers.

"What's that?" I heard Harry ask curiously.

I glanced up at him before I looked back down to my hands. I held it up by the string, allowing the ceramic object to dangle freely. "It's from my first Christmas. It's a teddy bear," I smiled fondly. "It was originally supposed to be for a boy, but Gramma Abbey hot glued a big pink bow on it at the last minute."

He kinked a brow up at me, amusement playing on his lips. "Why at the last minute?"

I grinned impossibly wide; this was my favorite story to tell. "They bought it before I was born, four weeks before Christmas and when I finally came along, merely one week after they purchased this fine ceramic bear, I turned out to be a lovely little girl. I was supposed to be a boy," I shrugged and examined the small brown bear ornament. It had held up well for sixteen years of use. I saw a few chips in the paint on his left ear, and the bow looked a bit frazzled; nothing too serious.

I stepped around the brown boxes that littered the floor and placed the bear carefully upon a branch near the center of the tree. I backed away from the tree, noticing the lights had already been strung up the tall fir.

"Is this one special?" Harry asked, causing me to spin around toward him. He held up a small pink candy-shaped ornament. "It has a name on it." He studied the trinket, squinting hard trying to read the handwriting.

"Evan," I stated simply. "That was my brother's first Christmas ornament. He was supposed to be a girl."

"Oh," he blinked, moving to place it on the tree to the left of mine.

"He likes it to be close to the top, where the star goes."

He glanced at me over his shoulder and smiled. "Of course."

We continued to hang ornaments as we laughed about the different ones that we pulled out of the boxes. The stereo rolled through my favorite Christmas songs that I had burned to a disc a year ago. When a familiar tune came through the speakers, a smile cracked on my lips as I began to sing along.

"Girls in white dresses with blue satin sashes; snowflakes that stay on my nose and eyelashes; silver white winters that melt into springs. These are a few of my favorite things."

The Sound of Music was my favorite movie to watch around the holidays. My Favorite Things was the soundtrack of little Kenna's childhood Christmases.

"When the dog bites, when the bee stings, when I'm feeling sad. I simply remember my favorite things, and then I don't feel so bad!" I laughed as I realized I had been singing at the top of my lungs and swinging my arms around. Harry had paused what he was doing and watched my whole performance. "Sorry, I just really like that song," I chuckled.

"It was a bit pitchy but overall not bad," he joked. "I enjoyed your theatricality."

"Thanks," I blushed.

We finished up the tree and hung up a few decorations around the house as well. Harry would ask about a few of the ornaments and I would share an interesting tale for each one. Harry and I danced around a bit to Jingle Bell Rock. The only thing missing was the star on top of the seven-foot tall fir tree.

I took it carefully out of the little box that it had all to itself, taking extra care and keeping a firm yet delicate hold on the glass star. It's been in my family since my mother was a young girl.

I couldn't quite reach, even standing on my tippy-toes. I guess it was a noticeable struggle because Harry scooped me up around the waist and gave me the boost I needed to place the final touch on the tree. Harry let me down and I moved to the power cord that laid abandoned on the floor.

"Gramma Abbs, we're finished!" I yelled toward the kitchen.

"Don't light the tree without me!" She hollered back as I heard her come scampering down the hall.

Since I was about five, my favorite part of the holidays was coming to Gramma Abbey's house and lighting the tree. We always did it together. She would have one plug and I would have the other. We'd count down and BING! The Christmas tree lit up like something out of a holiday special.

Gramma Abbey emerged through the archway and I immediately handed her a plug. I saw a familiar glint of anticipation flash through her hazel eyes as we three counted down.

"3... 2... 1!" We shouted. Every light on the tree glowed a different hue; reds, blues, and greens illuminated the room. The perfect embodiment of Christmas.

And it finally felt like it too.