Chapter Ten
Jesse and I walked to the shack after a few more rides down the hill, one of which was completely by myself and ultra scary as I didn’t really know how to work the ropes and steer. Thankfully, I only missed a high-end sports car by falling off and holding tight to the ropes so the toboggan wouldn’t crash into it.
After that spectacle, he decided it was time for a warm drink around a firepit. It was safer that way.
With a hot chocolate in hand, we found a vacant picnic table and had a seat facing the hill.
“That was fun.” I clinked the edge of my plastic lid against Jesse’s, the butterflies still swirled and made me feel alive. “Thanks for bringing me here.”
“It was my pleasure, mostly.” He nudged me. “Next time, I’ll bring ear plugs.”
“Sorry.” I tipped my chin down and mocked a pout.
The screams had been completely instinctual when we accidently launched over a small bump and got, what I felt, was some serious airtime.
His shoulder touched mine and didn’t move away. “Never hold back with me. Feel free to be yourself. There’s only one of you so why hide it?”
“Wise words.”
“They only come out after a surge of adrenaline.”
“Afraid were you?”
He didn’t seem at all like he was scared. In fact, he owned that sled.
He took a sip, and a lingering taste of hot chocolate hung on his upper lip. “Only recently.”
It was said so low, I wasn’t sure I’d heard correctly. But if I did, what did he mean by that?
His hand rested on his thigh, moving at a snail’s pace closer to mine. Was Jesse afraid of what I was believing was growing between us? Was he feeling what I was feeling too? In my heart I wanted to believe love wasn’t over, and at my age, there was still a chance I could find happiness with someone who understood me. Could he sense that? Or was I reading way too much into things again? That sounded more likely.
We sat listening to the kids squealing down the hill. It was a first for me to share space with someone and not have the silence breached. Either we were both comfortable in it, or neither of us knew what to say, and I didn’t know Jesse well enough to make an educated guess.
The takeaway cups emptied, and the sun started to lower as a chill settled in the air.
“Shall we move on to the next activity?” He rose and stretched out his legs, taking my empty cup.
“There’s more?” I stood beside him, my curiosity more than piqued.
“Always.” In a perfect five-point shot complete with a little jump, he landed both in the garbage. “Are you up for it? It’s a little more Christmasy than this, but it’s something I’ve done every year since I moved here.”
I nodded, pleased with the side effects from the first activity. “Sure.”
“You’ll have to wear something for me though.”
My head tipped to the side, and I scanned his face. What exactly would I have to wear? “Maybe?”
“Maybe? I’ll need a yes before we can go.” He stood there, digging his boots into the snow, a small smile threatening to spread across his charming face.
“It’s pain free?”
“Have I done anything yet that hurts?”
“Well,” I paused and pursed my lips together. “There was that fall yesterday at the rink, and today, I just about hit a parked car.”
“Those were all on you.” He walked close enough to smell the hint of mint from his hot chocolate.
“But you took me to them?” I had to counter, even if I was only joking.
Jesse rubbed his chin. “True, but…” His hand fell away. “I promise, this shouldn’t hurt. It should only make your heart grow two sizes.”
I bridged the distance between us, which wasn’t much anymore. “Colour me intrigued. With that kind of description, I’ll wear whatever you want.”
A desire sparked in the depths of his doe-eyed browns, a deep longing of desire. “Let’s go.”
We drove from the hillside back into Cheshire Bay, and right into the heart of downtown. If you could call it that. More like a cluster of buildings all tucked off the main drag.
However, none of the names on the building were familiar.
“Where are we?”
“The real estate office.” He deadpanned so easily it was comical.
Of course, there was the office of Brunner and Fox. We were parked in front of their main door.
Jesse grabbed the bag nestled between us and pulled out a Santa hat, handing it to me. “You can wear this.”
A slight chuckle rumbled out. A hat hadn’t been what I’d been thinking I’d have to wear, but I nonetheless pulled off my toque and slipped on the white fur lined hat.
“Done.”
“You look cute, and if I had a cape, I’d put it on you so you would be super cute.”
Where did he come up with these? Still, a smile stretched across my face at the words and a warm glow settled over my chest. “What will I be doing with this Santa hat on?”
“Aside from being adorable?”
Heat seared my cheeks. “Yeah.”
“Well, we’re going to go in there…” He pointed to the real estate office, where two people emerged also wearing Santa hats and carrying a few garbage bags.
“And do what?”
“You’ll see.” Replacing his toque with his Santa hat, he hopped out with a jump and walked over to my side. “This is the best part of the season, for me at least. C’mon.”
His excitement was contagious, and I matched him step for step as we went inside.
A few minutes later, he dropped seven bags into the box of his truck.
“You got the addresses?”
“Loading them into my phone now.”
They were all in Cheshire Bay. The organization was called A Grinch-less Christmas, a non-profit that collected toys and books for children and delivered them on Christmas Eve by Santa-hat wearing volunteers – Jesse and I being one of dozens of drivers.
“There’s really this many families without this year?” I was stunned and had expected it in the big city, not in the tiny seaside village.
“Sadly, yes. And most you wouldn’t know were broke. Outside appearances and all.”
We drove to the first address, a ramshackle walk up fifty years behind in renovations with deep cracks in the sidewalks and along the edge of the foundation. The paint on the wood peeled in long, weathered strips, and the windows had a film on them from years of neglectful cleaning.
After pressing the buzzer and not hearing a response, Jesse tested the door. It pulled open with a creak, but it was a little scary how unsecure the building was. Wasn’t that against a landlord/tenant act or something? We climbed the stairs to the third floor and down the dank and dreary hall, still adorned with original 1970’s maroon industrial carpeting and faded golden wall sconces.
Since this was my first ever delivery, I stepped to the side and let Jesse knock.
He kept his voice low enough to be heard by the residents on the other side of the door, and not loud enough to echo down the halls. “Delivery for the Akoo family from A Grinch-less Christmas.”
The walls were paper thin as the song Jingle Bells was being sung on the other side.
The chain slid off, and the door inched opened to a mom of my age holding a child about Henry’s age on her hip, who was dressed only in a diaper but waving at us. The lady’s sweater dangled off a bone-thin shoulder and her leggings didn’t even stretch out the fabric. Bags and dark circles had settled in beneath her eyes but her smile at seeing us was as wide as the Grand Canyon.
Jesse quickly set the bag inside the doorway and stepped back out into the hallway. “Merry Christmas.”
The woman’s brown eyes filled with tears, and she turned to set her son down. Without warning, she walked to Jesse and wrapped him in a bear hug, planting a kiss on his cheek. “May God bless you, my brother.”
He didn’t say a word, but the little boy did. “Bess ewe.” A cherubic smile filled his face.
She broke from Jesse and before I had the chance to put distance between us, her arms were wrapped around me. There was no mass to her but the strength she exuded was incredible. “God bless you, my sister.” A kiss also graced my cheek.
“Bess ewe,” the little boy echoed from the safety of the kitchen as he waved with delight.
I swallowed down a lump rapidly forming in my throat, but words failed to release.
She retreated into her home, twisting her hands. “Do you know if the food bins are coming?” Her face contorted into an apologetic expression, as if she had no right to ask.
Jesse glanced at his watch. “They haven’t come by yet?”
The woman shook her head and lowered her gaze.
He reached into his wallet and retrieved a twenty, leaving the billfold empty. “I know it’s not much, but this should help until they arrive. Donnelly’s is open until nine.”
Jesse didn’t have money to spare. Not after our conversations.
I reached into my purse and added a couple of twenties to his.
“Oh no, I can not accept. The food bins will be here. I believe.” Her hand covered her heart.
“Please.” I took the money from Jesse’s outstretched hand and thrust it into hers, quickly glancing into her apartment.
There were no toys on the floor, and there was only one couch, covered in a sheet with a pillow on the far end. A scuffed table with two mismatched chairs added to the furniture, but that was all. Whatever hard times befell on this poor woman; she was barely scrapping by.
Her hands trembled as she looked us in the eyes. “God bless you both. Merry Christmas.”
My own tears formed, and I tried hard to blink them back into their holds. Breaking the eye contact, I nodded and walked away, the words Merry Christmas dancing in my head but unable to find a way out.
I rested my fur-covered forehead against the cool of his truck, fighting to hold myself together while my breath lodged itself in the back of my throat.
Jesse caught up to me. “Hey, you okay?”
I kept my back to him and pulled myself further into my jacket. “I’m fine.”
His hand settled between my shoulder blades. “I honestly didn’t expect that kind of a reaction from you.”
Firm hands on my shoulders, he turned me around, and I buried my face into him.
“They are so…” The words refused to leave my lips.
“Yes, that’s true, but the best part is, they are grateful for everything they have, and take nothing for granted.” In a soothing motion, he rubbed my back, all the while whispering in my ear. “There’s more to life than materialistic things. We can be grateful for the sun and fresh air, and for friends and love. For the song she was singing.”
“But you also need the other things.”
“Sure, her living conditions aren’t ideal, but she’s out of the weather. The food bins will make sure she has the necessities. But I’m absolutely positive of one thing.”
I looked at Jesse through my blurred vision. “What’s that?”
“I bet she loves her baby more than anything on Earth and goes out of her way to make sure he’s taken care of.”
I had to agree. The baby didn’t appear to be suffering. He was bright and happy, full of life.
Jesse brushed his lips across my forehead, and I wished he had tried about four inches lower, even if this wasn’t the right moment. “Do you want to come with me for the other deliveries?”
“Are you kidding?” I wiped away my tears and smiled at the incredible man standing before me. “I’m knocking first.”