Christmas in London

Chapter 5

The wind bites at my nose, making my eyes water as I slip into the fourth shop.
“Good afternoon.” A young guy looks up from his phone behind the counter. I wave to him and browse the antiques, the London touristy things around the front. I had hopes browsing would give me an idea but nothing looks like something that I could give him. Nothing looks like something he would want. I don’t want to give him junk he doesn’t actually want but I want him to have something from me.
The shelves are lined with mismatched cups and vases along one shelf and then pots and baking dishes on the other. Another isle takes me down Christmas décor and I pass a few kettles. The copper one stands out, but he has two kettles. I don’t think he actually needs or wants another one. I grind my teeth, irritation flooding my bloodstream and I sigh shaking it off.
“There has to be something, somewhere.” I push the door open, the bell jangling overhead. I walk about half a block down the road and find a bookstore. I slip inside and there are books from top to bottom. A book arch hangs over me. Books stacked in the shape of a Christmas tree, to my left and right. I venture in a few more steps and a girl that can’t be more than eighteen steps into my path.
“Anything I can help you find?”
“No thanks?” I wave her off. “I have no idea what I’m looking for yet.”
“Alright then, let me know if you need anything.” She walks back to a small desk near the door and I browse the entire store from top to bottom. The books are beautiful, the store is an architectural wonder with how some of these stacks hang to the left or the right. Books are strung from the ceiling like ornaments. I’ve passed three more book trees decorated with lights. Harry would love this place. Probably does love it. He’s probably been here loads of times. I can almost see him browsing the shelves, letting his fingers brush over the spines, pulling one out that caught his attention and flipping through a few pages and then to the last one. Taking a picture of it or buying a physical copy for his shelf and the audio copy later.
I do notice things he does. I just don’t know what to get him.
Defeated, I sulk my way out of the shop to go home.
 
            Cold air rushes into the house behind me. I lean against the door to close it and hang my scarf and jacket on the coat rack beside the door.
“Harper,” I call as I peek into the kitchen. “I’m home.” The kitchen is empty. I follow the hall past the stairs and into the living room. Harry drags a Christmas tree to the corner, what I assume are its decorations scattered all over the table and couch.
“Evie!” he exclaims wriggling the tree into place before stepping away from it, hands out in case it falls. When it doesn’t, he dodges the decorations to get to me and wraps his arms around me. He smells a little like wood and fern. “You’re home early.” He presses a kiss to my lips and takes a step back.
“I finished early.” I peck a kiss to his cheek and step toward the chaos around us. “Another one?” I direct my question.
Harry snorts. “Of course another one.”
Harper scowls at him. “This is the most important one.” She tiptoes past the tinsel and ornaments on the floor to get to us. “This is the family tree.” She takes my hand and guides me over the debris.  “This one get’s decorated by all of us and it has all the family ornaments” she squeezes my hand. “We were waiting for you to help decorate.” She’s practically bouncing.
“You were?” I meet her eyes, they’re shining and her smile is huge and warmth swells up inside me.
Harry’s familiar hand rests on my shoulder. “Of course we’d wait for you. You’re important to me.” he grins, eyes reflecting the same kind of shine as his mother’s. Envy slices through me for a brief second. To have this be such a happy and loving time for him. For his mom to smile and sing and bake cookies through the holidays while he sat back and enjoyed it. Of course, this would be fun for him. It’d probably be my favorite time of year. I shake the thoughts away and take in the moment in front of me. Harry hands me a big red ball shaped ornament.
“Would you like to do the honors? Harry’s dimple presses into his cheek and I can feel my own smile mirroring his erasing my envious thoughts because they would only taint what’s right in front of me. The very thing I wanted is in my hands.
“Yes.” Now I’m almost bouncing, Harper and Harry’s energy is contagious. I take the ornament from him gently, cradling the bottom. It’s lighter than I thought it was going to be. “Where do I put it?” I ask.
Harry walks me up to the tree. “Wherever feels right.” I glance over the tree but no spot feels better than the other and I settle for the center of the tree. Harry wraps his arm around me and pulls me to his side. Harper stands beside me and we just stare at it for a moment.
“Alright,” Harper says clapping her hands together. “Let’s deck this tree out.” She grabs a few ornaments and hangs them up, probably listening to that piece of her that whispers where each ornament should go.
Harry gives my shoulder a squeeze. “Take your pick and string it up.” He grabs for a few bulbous ornaments and scans over the three, the same voice whispering the perfect placement for the decorations. I mimic them as best I can but my hands feel clumsy, my placement never sure, but no one corrects me or moves my ornaments and slowly my anxiety melts away. Last Christmas streams through some speakers near the T.V.
            The tree fills with ornaments shaped like books and cars, some handmade ones Harper giggles and cradles in her hand as she tells me Harry made them in school when he was younger. I take care of those ones. Placing them higher up and scattered around the center. Like everything else in Harper’s house, cramped creative chaos. The finished product is less tree and more suspended items clinging for dear life to fit.
“It’s perfect.” Harper’s eyes glimmer as she stares at our… masterpiece is generous, but she looks at it like that’s exactly what it is.
Harry nods and looks at his mom. She’s beaming from ear to ear. “Mum.” He reaches and taps her arms. “Shall we change?” he asks.
“Yes!” Harper runs into the kitchen and back to us with a box tied up in a bow. She hands one to me and Harry.
“What’s this?” I lift the box up, testing the weight.
“Open it.” Harry nudges my elbow and they’re both watching me with their own boxes in hand. I lift the lid and inside are green and red flannel pajamas splattered with little reindeer. I glance at Harper and Harry as they open their own boxes and hold up the same pajamas.
“We’re gonna match.” I laugh, giddy.
Harper grabs our boxes. “Tonight is movie and hot coco night.” She explains. “We always wear matching pajamas for it.” My chest squeezes in a new way and I blink away tears I have no reason to shed right now. It’s happy. I’m happy right now.
“I’m gonna change.” I hurry up to my room to get the Pj’s on and pull myself together.
 
            Harper is in the kitchen when I get back down, in her pajamas stirring a pot. The scent of hot chocolate wafts around the room.
“You changed fast,” Harry says coming up behind me. He takes my hand and pulls me to the table. “What’s the movie pick tonight?”
“We are going to kick of the twelve days of movies with Elf!” she exclaims ladling the chocolate-y goodness into mugs.
Harry leans toward me. “Do you like Elf?
“I think I saw it when I was younger.” I can’t quite remember the plot but something about a kid being adopted as one of Santa’s elves. “Sounds fun.” I tack on so he doesn’t try to ask his mom to change it.
“Harry,” Harper calls. “Carry the tray, dear.”
“Yes, mum.” Harry grabs a red tray with a gingerbread man in the center and our mugs in a circle around him.
“Gingerbread?” Harper offers me a round cookie.
“Please.” I accept the offer and we all follow Harry out to the couch. Harper takes a seat on the end and Harry on the other. I sit between them and munch on my cookie.
As the movie plays, Harper pulls her legs up on the couch and curls against the arm. Harry pulls me to lean against him and moves out long-empty cups to the floor beside the couch. With the room dark except for the tree lights twinkling around us, I can see the appeal. It feels hopeful. I rest my head on Harry’s shoulder.
“Like it?” Harry whispers. I nod.
“Having fun?” He asks.
“Yes.”
“Good.” He kisses the top of my head. “I’m glad.”

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