Holiday Unscripted, page 10
“Well, I’m ready.” She doesn’t give me attitude, which should be my first sign to not poke the bear. “Bye, we’ll see you all tomorrow, I guess, for another round of Jumanji.”
“I think it’s called Groundhog Day at this point,” Matthew says. “I feel like I’ve been at this wedding for fifteen thousand years.”
We laugh as we say goodbye to everyone, Joshua giving Uncle Matthew the stink eye. We walk out with my jacket under my arm and my hat in my hand. I take out the keys to my truck and unlock the doors.
I open the back door, tossing my jacket and hat in the back seat, as she gets into the passenger seat and rubs her hands together. I start the truck and turn up the heat. “Should we order pizza?” she asks me as I pull out of the parking lot and head down the path heading to the main road. The lights on the trees are all sparkling and it looks almost magical.
“We can,” I reply, getting on the road and looking over at her as she is on her phone.
“It says it can be at your house in forty-five minutes,” she says and then looks over at me. “Is that enough time?”
“Why don’t you order it when we get home?” I look back at the road. “We still have to unload the tree.”
“Oh, that’s right.” She puts her phone away and for the whole ride she looks out the window.
We get home and then she reaches for the handle. “I’m going to order it now,” she says, “I’m starving.”
“That sounds good,” I tell her and get out of the truck and walk up the steps to the front door. Pressing in the code, I then open it up and see Whiskey coming out with his tail wagging behind him.
“Are the cats not going to run out?” she asks me and I shake my head.
“They tried that once,” I tell her, walking to the back of the truck. “Seems they are not cut out for living on the street. Baby Cat literally belly-crawled her way back in and Bean didn’t like the grass under her feet.” I open the back of the truck and see the tree is tied all the way around.
“Why does it look like it’s sick?” she asks me, standing next to me and taking in her tree.
“We had to tie it all the way around for the drive home. Once you cut the rope, it’ll open up again.”
“It better,” she mumbles to me.
“Don’t you get a tree at home?” I ask her and she shakes her head.
“I do not. There is a tree in the staff lounge in the hospital and that is enough cheer for me to have.”
“So you don’t have one at home?” I question, shocked.
“I work the extra hours during the holidays”—she shrugs—“so it would be a waste of time to put up a tree.”
“But it’s Christmas,” I retort, shocked as I pull the tree closer to the edge.
“Yeah, so I’ve been told,” she mumbles. “What do you want me to do?”
“I think I have it,” I assure, trying to pick it up by the twine that’s tied around it. I grasp it tightly and lift it over one shoulder.
“Just close the back of the truck.” I motion with my chin to the tailgate as I walk across my lawn to the front door. The whole time I feel the pine needles falling down and know I’m going to have pine needles in my house for the next six fucking months. It’s why I never get a real tree.
Whiskey backs up when he sees me walking up the steps, the cord feeling like it’s cutting into my skin. “Out of the way, Whiskey.” I give him the command and he runs inside the house. “Did you bring in the stand?” I look over my shoulder and she turns around and runs to the truck. “You had one job!” I shout at her what she would have shouted to me.
“Technically,” she huffs out when she runs back into the house, following me, “I did my job by cutting down the motherfucking tree.”
I can’t help but laugh as I look at her when I get to the clearing. “Where do you want this motherfucking tree?” I ask her, knowing even if I chose someplace to put it, she will probably tell me I’ve chosen the wrong spot.
“Where do you usually put your motherfucking tree?” She giggles when she says it.
“Elizabeth,” I say her name between clenched teeth, “the twine is going to cut through my flesh.”
“Fine,” she huffs. “Put it in that corner,” she directs to the corner of the living room that faces the big window.
“You need to put down the stand,” I hiss at her and she raises her hands nervously.
“Shit, shit, shit.” She runs past me, taking the metal stand out of the box it came in. “Wait.” She puts it down. “I have to put in the screws.”
“By all means, take your time.”
“You’re rushing me,” she throws over her shoulder as she tries to go as fast as she can. “Okay, put it in the hole.”
“That’s what she said,” I mumble and she snorts.
“I led you right into that, didn’t I?” she says as I turn the tree down.
“You’re going to have to guide it in.” I turn the tree down.
“That’s what he said,” she comes back with her own joke, and now I’m the one snorting at her.
“Walked into that one,” I tease as I feel the tree being moved and I try to hang on. “Hurry.”
“I’m going as fast as I can,” she hisses at me. “There are five screws,” she informs me, working around me. “Okay, let go.” I let go and it starts to fall over to one side. “Shit,” she hisses as she moves over to the side to make sure it’s as tight as she can get it. “Okay, let go again.”
I release my hand slowly and then wait for it to tumble, and it doesn’t. “I did it!” she crows, lifting her hand in the air. “You’re welcome.” She smirks as she shrugs off her vest, and I walk over to let Whiskey out, who has been bouncing at the back door.
She sits on the couch as she unties her boots and pulls them off. “Okay,” she says walking to put her boots at the front door, “let’s do this.” She heads into the kitchen and goes to the drawers as she looks for scissors. “Let’s get her open.”
“That’s what he said also.” I walk over to Whiskey’s bowls and put some fresh water in one, then put in a cup of his kibble in the other before walking back over to the door to let him in.
He runs in and goes straight for his bowl as if he hasn’t eaten for five days. “Are you ready?” she asks me and I look at her confused. “I’m about to let her loose.”
“Can’t wait,” I say to her as she goes to the tree.
“Do I cut bottom and then work my way up?” she asks me and I shrug.
“From the top,” I instruct her and she gets on her tippy-toes as she tries to reach the top of it. I lean on the counter, holding my chin in my hands, as I watch her try with all her might to cut the top rope.
“Do you need help with that?” I try not to laugh at her as she turns and glares at me.
“I think I can get it,” she hisses at me as my eyes go from her hand trying to cut the rope to the way her sweater moves side to side, and then I see her ass. She has to be the sexiest woman I’ve ever been with, and she has no idea how sexy she is.
“Yeah, if you grow maybe a couple more inches,” I goad, pushing off of the island and heading toward her. Pine needles have already started to fall and there is a trail from the front door to the corner. “Give me the scissors.” I stand behind her and lean over her, fitting my front to her back. I put a hand on her hip, waiting for her to hand me the pair of scissors. “Thank you,” I say, letting go of her and cutting the top.
“Don’t do them all,” she orders me and I look down at her, cutting one more to give her back the scissors.
She grabs the scissors from me and her head looks back as she stares into my eyes. “Thanks,” she mumbles as she pushes her back into my chest.
“You’re welcome,” I say softly, our eyes are on each other as we both hold the scissors in our hands. My free hand wraps around her waist and I pull her more into me.
“Nate,” she says my name in almost a whisper or a moan. I don’t know, I’m too far gone to figure it out. Being here in my home with her and being so close to her, everything starts to fade away. The hurt I felt the morning after our night together. The hurt I felt when I heard she was leaving and didn’t tell me. The hurt that she left without looking back. It’s all faded into the back because now she’s here and she’s in my home.
“Elizabeth,” I whisper as my head moves down and I’m almost about to kiss her. Almost seven years after our first kiss, I’m about to kiss her again; the thumping of my heart echoes in my ears. The room spins all around me and the only thing I can focus on is her. I lick my lips as I get closer and closer to her. I can taste it, and just when I’m about to kiss her, the doorbell rings, making Whiskey let out a bark.
She jumps in my arms and the hand that was on her stomach now falls to the side. “That’s the pizza,” she says and turns in my arms. “I’ll get it.” She rushes away from me and out of the room, giving me a moment to get myself together.
I look up at the ceiling and close my eyes. “Don’t be dumb,” I tell myself. “She’s leaving in less than two weeks.” I rub my hands over my face. “Two weeks and she’ll be gone again, and you’ll be left alone...again.”
CHAPTER 13
Elizabeth
UNDERNEATH THE TREE
I walk away from Nate, with my feet moving at the same time my heart feels like it’s about to come out of my chest. I pull open the door and all I can do is blink at the pizza delivery man. “Elizabeth,” he says my name as he balances the blue bag in his hand, keeping the pizza warm. I nod at him, my mouth suddenly dry. I’m also afraid if I speak, it’ll come out in the squeaky voice I use when I’m very nervous. He unfolds the top of the bag and the steam from the hot pizza rushes out as he hands me the two pizza boxes, nods, then walks away. I shut the door with my foot and give myself a minute to calm down. I thought Nate was going to kiss me. Forget that, I knew he was going to kiss me. I also knew I should have pushed him away from me, but when it comes to Nate, I’m always doing things I shouldn’t do.
I don’t look at him as I walk to the counter and put down the two boxes of pizza. “Food is here,” I call out, like he doesn’t know I just brought in the pizza. “Come and eat.” I look over at him before walking to the sink and turning on the water to wash my hands.
“I’ll cut the tree open after I eat,” I tell him as I turn to grab two plates, trying to act like we didn’t just almost kiss.
“Do you want a beer?” I ask him as I walk to the fridge and pull out two bottles before placing both on the counter next to each other. Nate walks to the sink to wash his hands before coming back. I open both pizza boxes. “I got cheese and the meat lovers.”
“I don’t need a plate,” he tells me, grabbing a slice of meat lovers and eating it over the box.
I pull out one of the stools and sit down, grabbing a slice of cheese pizza, folding it, and then taking a bite before twisting open the bottle of beer. “I forget how much I miss pizza until I taste it here.”
“There isn’t a good pizza place back home?” he asks me as he takes another bite.
“It’s just not the same,” I say, taking another bite. “Where are the decorations for the tree?”
“In the garage. I usually keep them outside in the shed,” he tells me, “but I knew I would have to put up the tree.”
“Usually you have it up by now?” I ask him and he nods.
“But then I got so busy at work, knowing I would be taking off time for the wedding, so I just didn’t get around to it.”
“So, no regrets starting your own veterinary practice?” I ask as I take another bite.
“Not one,” he confirms. “It was tough at the beginning, obviously, since you have to build it from the ground up. Find new clients, prove yourself and all that.” He leans on the counter looking at me. “What about you, Elizabeth?” My body gets shivers when he says my name like that. “Do you like Australia?”
“I do,” I admit, “it’s home now.” Even saying the words, I am not sure it is. It should be. I’ve been there long enough. But now it feels like one foot is in, one foot is out.
“Is it?” he asks me and I nod my head. “Are you with anyone?”
“I don’t have time to date,” I confess to him, then ask him the question I have not had the balls to ask him, nor have I heard anything about from any of my family members. “What about you?”
He shakes his head. “Not now, but I was with Britt for about three years,” he shares, shocking me. “We even bought a house together.”
I blink and the pizza falls from my hand onto the box. “I’m sorry what?”
“What, what?” he asks me.
“You were with someone for three years”—he nods—“and had a house together?” I repeat the words to make sure that I heard him correctly. “This house?” I point to the counter.
“No.” He shakes his head. “I bought this after we broke up.”
“Why did you break up?” I ask him, the pizza in my stomach feeling like it’s going to curdle or something.
“She wanted the next step,” he replies, standing up and taking a pull of his beer.
“You mean she wanted to get married?” I say, ignoring the pounding of my heart or the way this news is affecting me, it’s getting harder and harder to breathe when it feels like my chest is caving in.
“Yeah.”
“Well, obviously.” I roll my eyes. “After three years, why didn’t you propose?” Asking the question has the back of my neck tingling.
“I’m not really sure, something was just missing.”
“Three years?” I repeat.
“Three years.”
“Who broke up with who?” I ask him.
“She basically said if I wasn’t thinking of marriage now, I would never be thinking of it,” he states, looking at me. “So we had a come-to-Jesus moment, and I had to admit I didn’t see us married. Not then and not in the future.”
“You are so lucky,” I tell him and his eyebrows pinch together. “If that was me and after three years you were like, it’s never going to happen.” I pfft. “I would burn your shit, all of it. You’d be living in your truck, naked.”
“Why would I be naked?” He cocks a hip.
“Because, I burned all your shit. All of it. Down to, like, your condoms.”
He throws his head back and laughs harder. “I’m not kidding with you, Nate.”
“Oh, I’m fully aware that you are not kidding with me, Elizabeth.” I swear every single time he says my name, my stomach gets butterflies.
“Where is she now?” I ask him, thinking she still lives around here and there is a chance I’ll come face-to-face with her.
“Moved away closer to the city, shortly after I bought this house. She thought for some reason I would regret it.”
“Did you?” I ask him, and I feel like I’m holding my breath. “Do you?”
“No.” He shakes his head, taking another pull of his beer. “Not even a little bit. Besides, she got married a year after she left and now has a two-month-old baby.”
“Girl or boy?” I ask him.
“No clue.” He puts his bottle of beer down by his pizza box.
“That means you really don’t care”—I grab my own beer bottle and take a pull—“because if you did, you would know every single detail about the other person.”
“You didn’t know I was with Britt?” He looks straight into my eyes when he asks me the question.
“I did not,” I reply and he just nods his head, “but it’s because—”
“It’s fine,” he says, tossing down his pizza crust. “I’m going to go and get the totes.”
He starts to walk out of the room, and my chest is getting so tight it’s getting hard to even swallow. “Nate.” His name comes out shaky.
“It’s fine, Elizabeth.” He looks back and I can see something in his eyes I’ve never seen before. The look haunts me and leaves me speechless. “I’ll be back.”
Whiskey walks with him to the garage and then comes back with him as he carries a blue Rubbermaid tote. “How many are there?” I ask him as he puts the first one down.
“Seven.” My mouth opens in shock. “My mother really loved Christmas,” he says, looking down at Whiskey, who pushes into his leg to get pet, as he avoids looking at me.
It takes him about thirty minutes to bring all the totes in, and I clean up the mess of the pizza boxes, putting it on the stove. “Do you have something to play music on?” I ask him once he places the last tote down and wipes his forehead with the back of his arm.
“Grab my phone.” He motions with his chin toward the counter. “Open the music app, it’s hooked up to the system.”
I grab his phone and swipe up, it says face ID and then quickly asks me for the code once it sees I’m not him. “Is it your birthday?” I ask him and he shakes his head.
“I’ll put it in,” he offers, taking his phone from me and putting in his password. “There you go.” He hands me the phone and I pull up the music app and the sound of bells starts filling the house. “Are you putting Christmas songs on?”
“I mean, we’re doing a Christmas tree, might as well vomit Christmas all over the place.” I smile at him as I grab the scissors as Kelly Clarkson’s “Underneath the Tree” starts to blare through the speakers. I raise my hands in the air as I sing the song, cutting the cords, and then seeing the tree come out. Every single time it flies open, I think a hundred pine needles fall from the tree.
“You need to put water in the holder,” Nate shouts from behind me.
“What? Why?” I ask him.
“Elizabeth, it’s a tree.” He points to the tree. “It’s like getting flowers, you have to add water to them or it’ll turn brown or catch fire with the lights. I really like my house and I would like not to set it on fire.”
He starts opening the totes as I walk over and grab the biggest glass he has and filling it with water. “How much water?” I ask him as I walk back and have to get on my knees to pour it into the stand.
