“Shit, I had New Year’s Eve,” Callum muttered, then clamped a hand over his mouth, and mumbled something about brothers and losing bets.
“Idiot,” Brooke elbowed her husband.
“Wait, you had a bet? On what?”
“After Lucas said you were coming home soon, we all put bets on when you’d turn up and what day, you’d admit to us that you loved Bailey… look, it’s in the group chat from this morning.”
“I didn’t see it in there.” I’d seen something about snow-clearing and a broken light on Dad’s house, already knowing I’d volunteer to do what I could now I was home, but love hadn’t been mentioned once.
“Oh, you wouldn’t have. It’s in the other group chat that doesn’t have you or Bailey in it,” Brooke said airily.
“I had ten on a big Christmas Eve reveal,” Dad said with a sigh.
“Wait, hang on, there’s a group chat that I’m not in? Nor Bailey?” Should I feel hurt?
Brooke cleared her throat. “Speaking of Bailey. Serious things here. What will you do? How will you tell him? Will it be in the snow?”
“Or next to a Christmas tree,” Callum interjected, “like in the Christmas movies.”
“It has to be in front of an open fire,” Dad said.
“Guys!” I held up a hand. “I don’t know what I’m doing, but that’s between me and Bailey, and right now, I’ve told him I have feelings for him, and that…” Maybe I shouldn’t mention I wanted to kiss him. After all, Callum was watching me with narrowed eyes. “Well, let’s just say, I stupidly admitted that I’d done this thing I shouldn’t have done, and now I don’t think he’s even talking to me.”
All three of them exchanged glances again, but it was Dad who summed everything up.
“Well, you need to fix it then.”
If only it were that easy.
Chapter Ten
BAILEY
“Can you hold this high?” Alice, my co-conspirator in tree decoration, handed me the last of the handmade bows, her bright blue eyes wide as she overdosed from excitement. She’d already run through “Jingle Bells” at least ten times and hopped from one foot to the other so often that her hair had fallen out of her bunches.
“High!” Emma, my other niece, repeated, but at three she wasn’t as interested in decorating, and I’d already caught her yawning. She headed for the toy box and made it as far as the pillows that I’d pulled off the sofa and curled up in the nest of them. Being with the kids was the best thing for me this afternoon, given I’d spent all day so far avoiding thinking about Kai, and then thinking about Kai, in waves. I couldn’t help the embarrassment that he’d seen the wish; I couldn’t stop the anger that he’d known all that time. It felt as if he’d been laughing at me, and I hated that acid-like feeling that made me feel nauseated.
Right now, though, I was there with all four of my nieces and nephews, and currently I was decorating my parents’ tree in step one of the lead-up to Christmas. It was all about the children and their excitement, and the way everything was so colorful and bright in their world. I was in my happy place. There was no sign of Kai, and Alice was just the sweetest thing ever when it came to decorating, with her Christmas sweater covered in glitter and her focus so intense. She was so excited for Christmas, and even with the whole Kai-is-back-in-town-and-has-messed-me-up thing, I was excited as well. Maybe it was because my birthday fell on Christmas Eve, but for me, Christmas was the highlight of my entire year.
It was only two days until the Parade of Lights; then the day after, the Christmas market started and there would be more tourists who flocked to town. Most of them would want to place their hopes on the Wishing Tree. Not me though. I hadn’t placed any hopes and dreams in writing since I was fifteen and had wished for the impossible; and after finding out what happened to that one, it was probably a good thing.
“Uncle Bailey? Are you listening to me?”
I snapped back to Alice.
“Of course, I am. So, how high is way high?” I asked.
Alice wrinkled her nose at me, and then examined the tree with the same critical eye I had. I’d inherited the task of decorating Mom and Dad’s tree every year because I loved doing it. I did it on my own at first—a present for my parents, who were so busy at the gift shop—and then as each niece or nephew was old enough, it became me, them, and a plate of decorated cookies, plus a playlist full of Christmas music.
“Super high,” she said with quiet determination.
At five-nine, I couldn’t reach the top of the tree without the stepstool, which the boys had removed and were using as a goal for their impromptu game of hall hockey. However, I could get about two-thirds of the way up, and as I closed the hook and stepped back, both Alice and I stared up at the glittery bow in awe, and I felt peace wash over me as Alice grasped my hand and squeezed it hard.
“Look, Charlie! It’s beautiful!” Alice called to her brother.
Charlie, to give him his due, left playing with his cousin, and came over to look, then patted Alice’s head before returning to the indoor hockey scuffle. I guessed, when you were eight like Charlie and Mitchell, maybe decorating a tree with handmade ornaments wasn’t interesting, but for seven-year-old Alice it was everything. The tree was already weighed down with all the handmade ornaments that had passed through the generations, most of them heavy with glitter, but in my opinion, there could never be too much sparkle on any tree.
Alice agreed, and she leaned against my leg and let out a soft sigh. “Pretty,” she murmured.
I rested my hand on her head.
“Goal!” Charlie scared the life out of both me and Alice with his healthy shout as he slid along the polished floor, holding the stick over his head. Thankfully, Emma didn’t wake up, although she rolled onto her side and pouted in her sleep.
“Just wait until Uncle Kai sees you cheating!” Charlie announced.
My chest tightened. He wouldn’t be coming here today—he didn’t know I was babysitting; he wouldn’t even think of heading here to assist with the tree—these things are surely outside the realms of possibility.
I was safe here with the kids. Right?
“No, when he sees you cheating!” Mitchell countered with a laugh.
“You’re a cheat!”
“No, you’re a cheat!”
“You wanna fight?”
“Gloves off!” Mitchell’s voice held way too much glee, and I turned to find the two of them pretend-scrapping on the rug and laughing like loons.
There was no point in separating them, and they never really hurt each other; also, according to my sports-crazy brothers, apparently this was their hockey interpretation, and I shouldn’t get so worried about the two boys pretending to fight.
Alice rolled her eyes in disdain, and then focused back on the tree. Next year, I’d be babysitting five kids, with Brooke and Callum so close to having their third, and a new baby in the family was exactly what I wanted—there could never be enough children for me to babysit and fuss over, as long as I got to hand them back to their parents at the end. In my opinion, being an uncle was the greatest job on earth.