out my phone and start a new email to my boss.
Neda, please consider this my 30-day notice. I appreciate all of the opportunities you’ve given me, but I am ready to explore new adventures. Happy to talk more after the holidays.
All my best, Maelyn
Before I can question myself, I hit send. Deep breath in, and another one out. Neda appreciates frank and straight-to-the-point. It’s fine.
Oh my God. I really did that. Relief falls over me like a weighted blanket. “Wow, that felt good.”
“What’s that?” Andrew asks.
I grin over at him. “I quit my job.”
“You—? Just now?” His eyebrows disappear beneath his wild curls. “Wow. Okay. You are figuring things out, aren’t you?”
“I’m trying.” I close my eyes and take another long, slow breath. “It was time. I hope it changes things.”
“How could it not? That’s a huge decision.”
I look up at him. “It’s just hard to know which choice is right until it’s all over, I guess.”
“Isn’t that the truth?” Andrew stops in front of another tree, spreading his arms out like he might hug it. “This one.”
But this tree isn’t right, either. My biggest fear in the car before the accident was the prospect of things changing. But isn’t that what I wanted when I threw that wish out to the universe? For everything to change?
“I don’t like any of these,” I admit.
“These are literally perfect trees,” Andrew says.
“I think that’s why.”
Change can be good.
I push through a row toward the back, where they hide the trees that are flat on one side, sparse in obvious places. Too short, too skinny, too crooked.
And there, at the end of the row, is a tree that is all of those things. “That one.”
Andrew laughs. “Dad will have a stroke if we bring that out to the truck.”
“Actually, no.” I stare at it, grinning, and feel Andrew’s stance match my own. “I don’t think he will.”
chapter fourteen
While Ricky and Dad unload the tree from the car and get it into the stand, and the twins and Lisa dive into the boxes of ornaments to find their favorite ones to hang, I linger at the back of the room, sitting in this weird new energy. Every other year—even this one—I was down there with the kids, diving into the decorations. But if change means telling Andrew how I feel and finally quitting my job, it also means loosening my stranglehold on tradition and letting Kennedy and Zachary take the lead on decorating the tree.
And since we’re barreling into this grown-up thing, change also means helping more, and not leaving it to Aaron or Benny to clean up the cocktail-hour detritus strewn around the living room.
As I gather and carry dishes into the kitchen, I take the time to really look at the cabin. I notice scratches in the floors, wear on the banister from generations of hands sliding over the smooth wooden flourish at the bottom of the stairs. Paint is peeling near the crown molding, and faded on the walls near the front door and down the hallway. Without the lens of nostalgia, I see that this house is well loved, but worn. Those are just the cosmetic things, too. The cabin is old, spending a third of the year in snow and another third in stifling dry heat. It’s going to take more than love and appreciation to help Ricky and Lisa keep this place.
Benny comes up behind me as I’m loading dirty dishes into the dishwasher. “Hey, Mayday.”
“Hey, Benihana.”
“How was the tree farm?” His smile pushes through his accent, curling around the words.
I turn to face him, leaning back against the sink. “It was awesome, actually.”
Benny’s intrigued. “‘Awesome’? I saw that handful of sticks and figured it had to be the last tree.”
“Come on,” I say. “You have to admit it’s hard not to root for the underdog. That poor tree was otherwise destined for the chipper. We saved it.”
Benny concedes this with a little eyebrow quirk, and I look over his shoulder to make sure we’re still alone. “But that wasn’t entirely why the tree farm was awesome.” I pause, biting the tip of my thumb. “I told Andrew about my feelings.”
His eyes go wide. “You did?”
“I mean,” I say, “not like, ‘I want you, Andrew, and if you proposed right now I would say yes without hesitation,’ but we made a joke about me going after what I want this week and I said that I wanted him.”
“Wow.” He steeples his hands and presses them to his lips.
“Oh,