“Can I get you anything else?”
“I’m all right for now,” she said. “Thank you.”
She studied the tree, thinking that it needed to be rotated slightly. Mark followed her eyes.
“You’re not happy about the gap toward the bottom, right?”
“I didn’t notice it when I saw the tree from outside.”
He walked toward the tree. “Hmmm…” He gripped and lifted, rotating it half a turn. “Better?”
“Perfect,” she said.
“I have a surprise,” he added. “I hope you won’t mind.”
“I love surprises.”
“Give me a minute, okay?”
He vanished into the back again, returning with a small portable speaker and candles tucked beneath his arm, along with two glasses filled with a creamy liquid. She assumed it was a smoothie, but as he drew near, she realized she was mistaken.
“Eggnog?”
“I thought it seemed appropriate.”
He handed her a glass and she took a sip, hoping her stomach wouldn’t sour. Thankfully, it didn’t, nor was there much of an aftertaste. She took another drink, realizing how hungry she was.
“There’s plenty in the back for refills,” he said. He took a sip as well, then set his glass on a low wooden pedestal. He put the speaker next to the glass and pulled his phone from his pocket. A few seconds later, she was listening to Mariah Carey singing “All I Want for Christmas Is You,” the volume low. He lit the candles, then went over and turned off most of the lights, leaving only the ones near the rear of the gallery illuminated.
He took a seat on the pedestal.
“My story really got to you, huh?” she asked.
“I told Abigail all about it when we FaceTimed last night. She suggested that if we were going to decorate the tree, I might as well try to re-create parts of your Ocracoke Christmas as well. She helped me with the playlist, and I picked up the eggnog and candles when I grabbed the extension cord.”
Maggie smiled as she removed her gloves, but still chilled, she decided to keep her jacket and scarf on. “I’m not sure I’m going to have enough energy to help you with the tree,” she confessed.
“That’s fine. You can direct, like Bryce’s mom did. Unless you’d like to try again tomorrow…”
“Not tomorrow. Let’s do it now.” She swallowed another mouthful of eggnog. “I wonder when people started putting up Christmas trees in the first place.”
“I’m pretty sure it was the mid- to late sixteenth century in what’s now Germany. For a long time, it was regarded as a Protestant custom. The first tree wasn’t displayed at the Vatican until 1982.”
“And you just happened to know that off the top of your head?”
“I did a report on it when I was in high school.”
“I can’t remember anything from the reports I did in high school.”
“Even Thurgood Marshall?”
“Even him. And just so you know, even though my family was Catholic, we had Christmas trees growing up.”
“Don’t blame the messenger,” he teased. “You ready to do some directing while I get to work?”
“Only if you’re sure you don’t mind.”
“Are you kidding? This is great. I don’t have a tree in my apartment, so this is the only chance I’ll have this year.”
He found the box, freed the lights from their plastic packaging, then plugged in the extension cord. Like Bryce long ago, he moved the tree out from the corner to string the lights, making adjustments as Maggie suggested. The silk ribbons came next, then finally a large matching bow, which he placed on top in lieu of a star. He finished by dispersing the ornaments throughout the tree, following Maggie’s instructions. After scooting it back into place, he retreated to Maggie’s side, the two of them evaluating it.
“Good?” he asked.
“It’s perfect,” she said.
Mark continued to stare at the tree before finally reaching for his phone. He took a series of pictures, then began tapping the screen.
“Abigail?”
She watched him actually blush. “She wanted to see the tree as soon as it was finished. I’m not sure she trusted me to do a good job. I’m sending it to my parents, too.”
“Did you hear from your folks today?”
“They texted some photos from Nazareth and the Sea of Galilee. You’ve been to Israel, right?”
“It’s an incredible country. When I visited, I kept thinking to myself that I might be following in Christ’s footsteps. Literally, I mean.”
“What were you photographing?”
“Tel Megiddo, the Qumran cliffs, and a few other archeology digs. I was there for about a week, and I’ve always wanted to go back but there were too many other places to see for the first time.”
Mark leaned forward, his elbows on his knees as he stared up at her. “If I could visit one place in the world, what do you think that should be?” Light flickered in his eyes, making him appear almost childlike.
“A lot of people have asked me that question, but there’s no single answer. It depends on where you are in life.”
“I’m not sure I follow.”
“If you’ve been stressed and working a zillion hours for months, maybe the best place to go would be a tropical beach somewhere. If you’re in search of the meaning of life, maybe go hiking in Bhutan or visit Machu Picchu or attend mass in St. Peter’s Basilica. Or maybe you just want to see animals, so you travel to Botswana or northern Canada. I can say that I see all those places differently—and I photographed them differently—based partly on my own life experiences at the time.”
“I get that,” he said. “Or at least I think I do.”
“Where would you want to go? If you could only see one place?”
He reached for his eggnog and took a sip. “I like your Botswana idea. I’d love to go on safari, see the wild animals. I might even be convinced to bring a camera, though I’d stick with the automatic setting.”
“I can give you a few photography pointers if you’d like. And who knows? Maybe you’ll have your own gallery, too, one day.”
He laughed. “Not a chance.”
“Going on safari is a good choice. Maybe think about it for your honeymoon?”
“I hear it’s kind of expensive. But I’m confident we’ll get there one day. Where there’s a will, there’s a way and all that.”
“Like your parents and their trip to Israel?”
“Exactly,” he said.
She leaned back in her chair, finally beginning to feel closer to normal again. She wasn’t yet warm enough to take off her jacket, but the bone-deep chill had passed. “I know your dad is a pastor, but I don’t think I’ve ever asked about your mom.”
“She’s a child psychologist. She and my dad met when they were both getting their PhDs at Indiana.”
“Does she teach or practice?”
“She’s done a bit of both in the past, but now she mainly practices. She also assists the police when necessary. She’s an on-call specialist if there’s a child in trouble, and because she often serves as an expert witness, she testifies in court quite a bit.”