Free Winter Wishes (The Play #1.5) by Karina Halle Page B

losing out on the job, not to mention I know she’s really feeling the loss of her mother right now – it’s all adding up.
    As we get ready for the day, though, I feel I better force some Christmas cheer down my throat before Jessica does it for me.
    “You ready, love?” I ask her, kissing the palm of her hand.
    “With you? Always.”
    Hand in hand we head down the stairs and find ourselves in a scene from a Christmas movie.
    It’s early but Jessica has been doing the rounds, cooking up a storm and filling the house with a mix of mouth-watering scents. A few more Christmas decorations have appeared, including mistletoe over the doorframe, and the music is loud and cheery.
    She greets us, wiping her hands on her festive apron. “Morning. Merry Christmas Eve! What would you two like to eat?”
    The both of us aren’t picky eaters and I tell her we’re fine with just toast and orange marmalade but Jessica won’t have any of that. She fries up a real Scottish breakfast of beans, eggs, mushrooms, half a tomato, ham, tattie scones, sausage and black pudding (which Kayla won’t even touch, now that she knows what it is), along with orange juice and endless pots of tea. By the time breakfast is over, I feel like climbing back into bed. The comatose feeling is a nice change from anxiety though.
    Even though last night everything went fine and everyone behaved themselves, with George only having a bit of sherry earlier, there was still this thread of tension that felt like it ran from me to everyone in the house. I know Kayla can feel it, I know everyone else does too. Everyone is tip-toeing around me like I’m a rocket that can accidently fire. Maybe George doesn’t quite know yet, or maybe he does and doesn’t care, but no one wants to be responsible for my downfall and I just want to tell everyone that I appreciate it but they don’t have to worry about me.
    I worry about myself enough as it is.
    After we’re done in the kitchen, we put our presents under the tree. George is in his favorite chair, acknowledging us with only a grunt. I guess it could be worse. Then Kayla and I go outside for a long walk and to bask in the snowfall.
    It’s the right decision. Not only does it get us in the Christmas spirit, but Kayla is like a little kid, going nuts with her tongue stuck out, trying to catch snowflakes. We make our way over to the fallow field next door which belongs to a farmer a kilometer away. In summer it’s overgrown and reedy but now it’s a blanket of white. It beckons to either be photographed in its pristine condition or to be ravaged.
    We decide to ravage it.
    With Kayla calling the shots, we make snowmen and snow dogs. She attempts to make Lionel, Emily and Jo but they look like lumpy white logs instead. Then I pelt her in the head with a snowball, completely blasting her with snow all over her face.
    She shrieks and a snowball war ensues with both of us hiding behind our snow creatures. Needless to say, I have pretty good aim, so I get her in the head every single time. Sometimes it’s right on top, sometimes it explodes at her temple, sending ice down her coat, sometimes it pops her on the forehead. It’s enough to drive her crazy and I feel like I’m harnessing the childhood I missed out on. I don’t think any kid, though, could have had this much fun.
    Finally we cap it off by making snow angels, before trudging back to the house wet, cold and absolutely exhausted. But fuck, have I never seen a more beautiful sight than Kayla with her hair wet around her face, her dark eyes bright, her cheeks and nose flushed pink from the outdoors. She looks utterly alive, happy, and it bolsters some reserve inside me. I shouldn’t spend the rest of the day fretting about things I may not be able to control. I should be joyous as fuck that the woman of my dreams is in love with me, beside me, wanting to go through it all by my side.
    I’m pretty sure that’s what the holiday is all about anyway. Sure we all