All I Want For Christmas Is You - Vi Keeland Page 0,41
for another bag and pulls out a length of thick red garland. “I know it might seem crazy, but I always set up each tree before carrying it up to the porch. Then, I place the gifts, and last, I leave the groceries. On average, it takes me fifteen minutes from start to finish, unless the family has a dog. Then I have to go ninja style, which makes the process take a little longer.”
“You also never had a partner before,” I remind her, helping her wrap the garland around the tree.
“Yeah.” She glances at my biceps. “With you helping lug the tree, we should be done in half the time.” She stands back when we’re done and rests her hands on her hips, looking me in the eye. “Are you ready?”
“Yep.”
“Okay, let’s do this.” She grabs one of the red sacks from the bed of the truck and two of those reusable shopping bags. “Follow me and be quiet.”
I pick up the tree with one hand and use the other to take the red sack from her, a move that only makes her roll her eyes. I follow her up the street, and when we reach the house, I quietly set the tree in place and watch as she deposits the bags she’s holding. She then unloads the gifts under the tree. When we’re done, I take her hand to help her back down the snow-covered steps and keep hold of her until we reach the truck.
Buckled in and on our way to the next house on her list, I ask softly, “Why them?”
“I overheard someone talking about the family in that house. Both parents aren’t really around much, because they have to work a lot, and the two teen boys who live there have never had a real Christmas. I know that me showing up with a Christmas tree, a few gifts, and all the fixings for Christmas dinner won’t really help them, but if I can give the boys in that house something to smile about, I feel like I’ve made a difference.”
Her words rock me to my core, and I wonder if she really understands the gift she’s giving. At the end of the day, it won’t be about the stuff; it will be about the memories she was able to give a family. Without thinking, I reach out and take her hand, and when she doesn’t force me to let go, I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“Did you have Christmas when you were a kid?”
Her laughter surprises me, and I glance at her quickly. “Have you met my mother?”
“Right, I should have known that was a stupid question.” Her house growing up was one I remember driving by in my parents’ old beat-up minivan, because it was decorated to perfection every single year. Hell, every house on her block was professionally decorated, so it was always an event going to see the lights. “I’m just trying to figure out why you’re doing this.”
“I didn’t grow up counting down the days to tonight like most kids do. There was nothing special about December 25th. My family always had a tree and decorations. There was always a huge feast and quiet stories read by the fire. But Christmas was just another day. There was nothing special about it. I never went without. I always had more than I needed, so gifts were no big deal.” She shrugs, looking a bit sheepish. “Being young, I didn’t know I was taking it all for granted, but now that I’m older, I see that not everyone has it as good as I do. A lot of families struggle, not just around the holidays but every day. And it makes me feel sick when I think about all the money I’ve wasted over the years because I could. I guess in a way I want to give back, but I don’t want to do it for recognition. I want to do it, because it makes me feel good. It makes me feel like I’m making a difference, even if it’s a small one.”
“I don’t think you were taking it for granted, Milly. I think you were just a kid, and you didn’t know any different.”
“You say that now, but I know people in town dislike me. I see the looks and hear the whispers. Everyone thinks I’m a stuck-up rich girl who has never had to work for anything and is