The Holiday Mixtape, page 31
I stop once more on the next step. “Yeah?”
The pause lasts longer than it should with additional silence from downstairs.
“Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas, Archer.” My smile almost hurts my face. It’s the biggest smile I’ve released since the night of the mixtape.
He’ll never know how much it means to have him here with me in Blitzen to experience all of this. My emotions already heightened, I take to the curve of the staircase.
Helen’s staring blankly at her phone as I reach the bottom. My heart plummets to my feet.
“Tell me,”
Helen shoves a local news feed in my face.
“It’s not him, I promise. He’s not one of the injured. I’m calling the chief’s wife to prove it to you.”
My alarm goes off, and I recognize my normal wake-up hour set for Christmas Eve and today’s events. My stomach aches and growls and I squint when the sun shines through the living room window across the sectional where I apparently fell asleep.
How could I fall asleep?
Archer’s snoring on the other end, and quite nearly a thousand text notifications fill my phone, from Merry Christmas to Have you heard anything from Kourt?
I blink my eyes open to clear the fog and zero in on one particular notification for a local news article.
Boonesborough County Lumber Mill fire is coming into containment this Christmas Eve morning with three firefighters in critical condition at Pikesville Regional. It’s not known what fire departments the victims are from. Their identities have not been released. There is no word on just how much damage has been done to the lumber mill.
I fly off the couch like a psychopath who just heard Kourt’s name listed among the three.
Calm down.
If it was one of our guys, the chief’s wife would’ve called us by now.
I’m met with a fully dressed-to-the-nines Aunt Josie as my socks slide me into the kitchen. A drink holder of iced coffee sits sweating on the counter, and her stiletto nails crack a raw egg into her juice glass. She’s wearing a full face of makeup.
Just as my worried mind tries to distract itself with some sarcastic thought about her waking up at four in the morning to shellac foundation on with a butter knife—her signature scent assaults my senses. I don’t know exactly what kind it is, I just remember playing with the bottle when I was a little girl. Something with Caesar and pheromone in the title, and to my dismay, the decadent, overpowering scent of what gold should smell like consumes me.
Overwhelmed with emotion and the precious memories of my bold Great Aunt Josie in all her infamous glory, I lunge toward her and throw my arms around her.
“Oh, Aunt Josie—” My tears stain the collar of her blouse, and she doesn’t flinch, but pulls me closer to her swan-like neck.
“‘Put your arms around me and hold me tight!’ It’s what you used to say to me when you were a child. You all but demanded it when you’d beg to sleep with me and stay up late to watch old movies.” Aunt Josie strokes the back of my hair. “Rapunzel was your very favorite fairy tale, and you must have made me read it a million times. It’s still in your trunk, you know. The one we bought at the estate sale and had it refinished in fabrics from India.”
I sniffle and try to stop from shaking, as the tears continue to fall. I haven’t hugged her for this long since I was a child.
“You had such an imagination, my brave little doll. I could take you everywhere and you thrived, but I also watched you when we went nowhere. How inventive you were to play alone, this only child who came with her own source of built- in entertainment. I always felt you had something in you I didn’t. I envied your ability to take flight or stay put, your laughter in rain or shine. I seek that my darling—that magic you possess.”
She lifts me away from her. “There, there. No shame in tears. Anything worth anything at all has to be worth a tear or two.”
“I’ve missed you so. Why did you bring me here?”
“Three things, duck. I’m more impressed by you than proud. That’s saying a lot, because I’ve always been and couldn’t be prouder of you. You have exceptional taste. I knew you’d turn heads in Blitzen, but to turn that one, as well as having that handsome Chicago head doing a double take? You are no longer my prodigy with men. You are my sensei.”
She takes my face in her hands as she did Helen’s last night. “That being said, I hope you learned the intended lesson: You, my beautiful great niece, are a big fish no matter the pond you swim in. I pray you won’t forget that. I had an attic full of Christmas décor and the town had a storage busting at the seams with lights. They sat dormant for a decade or more, until my own flesh and blood came, saw, and conjured.”
She raises her glass of raw egg to me in a toast and swallows.
I want to ask her everything.
Did she plan me and Kourt?
Is this still my house? Was it a gift or a loan?
Did Helen have something to do with it? What exactly is Helen’s job description?
And… Where the hell has she been?
If I know my great aunt, I won’t find out where she was until she wants me to.
Instead, I muster, “Have you heard anything?”
“Ah. You’re just like your father in that regard. A one-track mind in matters of the heart. Not yet, but hopes are high.”
“And the third thing?”
“Oh, yes. I bought caffeine, but you simply must shower and dress first. I love you darling, but you look dreadful. I can’t have you greeting Blitzen’s most eligible bachelor you snagged looking like that. Now, get dressed. It’s Christmas! And wash your hair. He’s the one who’s been putting out fires. Not you.”
forty-four
A Blitzen Christmas
It truly is Christmas Eve in Blitzen. Finally. The holiday festivities we launched are moving full speed ahead, and I can’t count the smiling faces on both children and adults. People started ice skating early this morning and every hour more vendors are arrive to set up.
This is the big day. The lighting of the town tree. Hopefully, a day they will all remember when they’re home in front of their own trees tomorrow.
I’d be touched if I wasn’t so sick at my stomach from worry.
I can’t believe I fell asleep. Exhaustion must’ve set in.
Much worse, I can’t believe I haven’t heard from him.
The thoughts of not even receiving a text are triumphed over by the fact that he and I have never texted. It was always a call or in person. Yet, still, with every text notification I try to manifest: It’s me. I’m safe.
Or at least a godforsaken thumbs up emoji by Kourt’s name.
Going about my duties, I watch the clock tower like a hawk. One tedious hour after another. Morning becomes afternoon.
Still… no Kourt.
I grab my phone for the fifteenth time to search for Sharletta’s number. As if I can’t fathom I don’t have the chief’s wife’s number saved in my phone. As if I think it will miraculously pop up and she’ll text me: All is well with the Blitzen fire department.
The band plays enthusiastically behind me. It feels like Jingle Bell Rock and Rocking around the Christmas Tree are on a loop, even though I’m sure I’ve only heard them once. A crowd is gathered in front of the stage where the band plays, and the smell of hot apple cider drifts my way. The air is crisp, the sky blue—perfect Christmas weather.
I take a deep breath and the notes of cinnamon and clove lift my spirits enough to smile at the lovely friends I’ve made in town. Walking through the crowd— greeted by name, by one person after another, it occurs to me… I’ve made more friends in one month here in Blitzen than in four years in Chicago.
I’m so proud they’re enjoying it all.
Keeping busy with idle tasks, I make my way toward the tree to store back-up extension cords under the tree skirt for tonight—the Christmas-colored extension cords.
My shoulders sink and I shake my head.
Kourt drove me to Fisher’s that first time to get them.
That feels a lifetime ago now. Less than one month and that man changed my world.
Helen and Archer are headed toward me after helping a vendor set up for me.
She doesn’t look frantic or upset, I clock, as I watch them walk my way. I keep hanging on to her words. “I’m his emergency contact. If it’s him, we would’ve been notified. He’s not one of the three.”
A horn honks twice and the sirens pick up as Blitzen’s fire truck pulls into the lot.
Everyone rushes to greet it. My breath catches.
The applause grows so loud as I look for his face but don’t see it. Chief Johnson leaps from the old truck with the rest of the firefighters. Mayor Harris strides to the stage and silences the band as he ushers the chief onto the stage to take the mic.
His salt and pepper hair is almost completely black with soot, yet I’ve never seen the man smile so big. He races to the mic and waves.
“Ladies and gentlemen. All of you fine people of Blitzen, and wherever you hail from in Kentucky…” He stops the crowd with his declaration and out of breath puffs into the mic. “Merry Christmas, and please know, thanks to all of your efforts and support, we’ve saved the mill. There’s a lot of repair, and some loss for Boonesborough County, but not all is lost.”
The crowd roars.
“And Blitzen, thanks to these fine firefighters who saved lives and livelihoods—Thanks to you fine folks who rallied—”
A growing applause erupts near the parking area where the fire truck rolled in, as three men hop out of a familiar pickup truck.
Exactly… He’s one of these three.
I wipe the tear that splashes down my cheek at the sight of Kourt walking toward town square. He’s covered in soot, dressed in his bunker pants, suspenders, and a Blitzen Volunteer fire department T-shirt.
“And thanks to one Erika Amherst over here who gave us the means to persevere—Blitzen has gained! Let that be the last run of the old fire truck, as we’ve already raised more than enough to buy the new one!”
Chief yells into the mic, and people cheer back so loudly I hear nothing but white noise as I weave my way through the packed crowd toward Kourt.
I nearly crash into him as arms wrap tightly around my waist and bring me into the most glorious smell of smoke I’ve ever encountered.
“Erika.” Kourt looks into my eyes as he holds me in place. I can’t seem to catch my breath. I don’t know whether to laugh, cry, or wrap my arms around him.
He hoists me higher, holding me. Tighter. He pulls me closer to him before I can give it a second thought, and I bury my face into his smoke and soot-coated neck. “You’re here. You’re really here.”
I say it as if I’m awake and alert for the first time since he charged into my house with his declaration.
“Does this mean you think you love me too?” Kourt smiles like he’s lassoed the moon.
I pull away from his neck to look at him. There’s a pause as our eyes become submerged into each other’s. The mic on stage squeals, and I’m taken out of the trance of Kourt, to peek back at the gawking stage and crowd below it.
Shaking my head at our audience, I lift my eyes back to meet his.
He raises a challenging eyebrow.
My brow arches to match his as my gaze fixes on him. “How do I know you won’t walk away from me again?”
Kourt’s eyes roam my face, wildly chasing the answer, as he lowers me to the ground.
A beat goes by, and I shrug with a coy grin, pivoting away from him. I take a step and a half toward the eavesdropping crowd when his voice fills the space between us.
“Marry me and find out.”
I stop, frozen in my tracks.
The crowd around me is stunned as silent as I am. A gust of crisp wind blows a piece of hair by my face and I dip my head basking in the shock. Guess he got me there.
The clock tower chimes above town square, indicating the hour.
“You heard me. Marry me.”
The clock chimes again as I turn to face him, my eyes bright with a hint of realization.
“It’s three o clock, Kourt.”
“Is that a yes?”
Epilogue
December 28th
Nestled on his couch across from the fireplace, I sit relaxed, cross legged, and propped on a pillow in Kourt’s bathrobe. I’d think I’d be used to being naked in his living room per his rule, yet my skin tingles underneath the fabric just knowing he’s nearby. The smell of him on his robe encompasses me. My nose crinkles, and I try to hide my rising smile as I keep my eyes focused on the business plan in front of me.
This is the first moment we’ve got to come up for air from all the Blitzen Christmas festivities, celebrating with Great Aunt Josie, and a shell-shocked Helen and Archer.
After fulfilling his promise to me of the infamous bacon and eggs breakfast we had yet to have until this morning, I sit across from Kourt, prepping my proposal for Archer.
The email suggesting I’ll happily return to the Harmon account, only on my terms… remotely, and hired freelance for my special skills and contributions that will be sourced outside of Sloan and Swartz’ jurisdiction, as I no longer work under them, went out to the firm earlier.
They may say no to my terms, but I’m okay with that outcome.
I’ve already garnered several of my own accounts to pitch Archer from Kentucky Bourbon Fruit Cake, Grinder’s Switch Coffee, and Bob and Georgia don’t know it yet, but a Blitzen-themed Old Fashioned Hardware Store toy line is about to be pitched to dawn its own spot in department stores every Christmas.
That should bring some residual income their way if we can brand them and I can initiate specific toy makers to sell under our umbrella. For a big enough retail spot in high traffic stores, it’s a no brainer. I draw an arrow to a pitch graph listing the potential brands for the toy line then smile again at the thought of a little piece of our Blitzen Christmas on display across a few surrounding states.
My eyes trail up the tall specimen seated across from me. Kourt’s sitting naked in a chair in front of the fire marking up his basketball game schedule for the new year. My teeth chew the inside of my cheek as I notice how handsome he looks in reading glasses.
This is the first time I’ve ever seen him so still, focused and studious. A foreign rhythm highjacks my pulse and something deep inside me feels more invested and more at home than I have ever felt before. This moment, this morning, is ours, with many more like it to come.
The fire crackles in the silence behind him, and Kourt’s eyes rise from his coaching schedule to meet mine.
“What?” He smiles dubiously.
It’s contagious and my cheeks nearly meet my ears before I hide my face with my knees.
“It’s a yes, isn’t it? That’s what.” Kourt rises and crosses over to me.
Good God, he’s as hard as rock already. I love how attracted he is to me. How erect he gets just watching me smile or listening to me speak. He sinks to his knees in front of me and pulls my legs away from my face. His fingers trace lightly down the inner flesh of my leg from my knee to my thigh and back up again. The robe parts down the middle, as he focuses his hazel greens on my eyes. They speak of a thousand obscenities, pure love, and curiosity at the same time.
“I got you didn’t I?” His voice is smooth and certain.
“Um-hmm.” I nod with a sly confirming smile I make no attempt to hide.
“Don’t think I won’t make you say it, and loud and clear. But first we have to get dressed.”
“And break your rule? So soon?”
“Um-hmm.” He slowly puts my robe back together neatly. “I know there’s a lot of things that could feel rushed about this, but I want to make sure the things that matter, don’t. I looked up your mom’s holiday book club cruise from where she left out, and discovered they were returning today. They actually docked yesterday and stayed at a hotel for a book-signing and then all planned to fly back home from there.”
I shake my head at Kourt in disbelief.
“So, I was able to get in touch with your mother at the hotel yesterday, and she agreed to let me fly her to Blitzen instead. I figured you two missed Christmas together… maybe the three of us could ring in the new year. At least, I would like that very much. I’d be honored to meet and get to spend some time with her. I thought maybe you’d want to show her what you did here in Blitzen. Get a little Christmas with her in before all the decorations come down. It’s still Christmas in Blitzen until the first week of January. That’s what your brochure says.”
“Kourt.” My eyes sting with tears as I try to find the words to thank him… to let him know I can’t even fathom how thoughtful this is. How he remembered me telling him about her.
“I hope it’s okay I reached out—”
I peel my robe apart and it falls from my shoulders as I rise to my knees on the couch, pulling Kourt to me. My mouth covers his and my tongue is not gentle as it demands his lips open to me. Inching to lay back, I drag him down on top of me.
“You’re going to make me look bad if we’re late picking her up,” he mumbles as he fights to free his mouth from mine. He’s making attempts to resist, but he’s perfectly lined up to my entrance, his swollen cock nudging to be inside me.
“Baggage claim,” I whisper in his ear. “She’ll have a lot of luggage.”
“So, what do you think?”
“It doesn’t matter what I think, Erika… only how you feel.” My mom looks me over and her eyes dance back at me. She hasn’t stopped looking at me like this since Kourt dropped us at Josie’s for some girl time. “That said—when’s the wedding?” she asks without further hesitation.
“Mom?”
“You’re absolutely glowing, Erika. At no point in Chicago or on a visit home from the city have I ever seen you lit up from head to toe like this.”
“I haven’t officially said yes yet.”
I try to play coy before I clasp her hand and mask a squeal. “One year from today.”
