followed by a left down Dundas Street. We were still about twenty or so minutes from my apartment. “Look, I was just trying to help out. If you’d be more comfortable at a hotel, name one and I’ll drop you off there.”
She chewed the inside of her cheek. “Your place is fine.”
“Are you sure?”
She nodded. “I guess I’m just stepping out of my comfort zone this week.”
“I guess you are.”
I flicked on the lights when we stepped through the front door of my penthouse overlooking the harbor and the Vancouver Convention Center. Across the harbor lay the banks of North Vancouver and the rise of mountains in the distance. Ski-hill lights flickered amongst the darkness of the mountains while the lights of North Vancouver, the most expensive place to live in the entire province, painted a colorful reflection on the water of the harbor. Just off to the left lay the dark shadow of Stanley Park, which would have been vibrant and green in the day time.
Kathryn followed me into the depths of my home. Her heels clicked on the polished granite floors and she let her coat fall from her shoulders so she could drape it over the back of one of the stools tucked under my kitchen island.
“Your place is incredible,” she breathed as she turned in a slow circle, soaking it in. “I had no idea you were living like a king.”
“Like a king?” I laughed. “Hardly. I only have two bathrooms and it doesn’t come with a butler. That doesn’t sound king worthy to me.”
“But these views?” Kathryn moved over to the floor-to-ceiling windows that wrapped around the outer perimeter of my apartment. That had been the selling feature. I had one hundred- and eighty-degree views of the city, most of which were views of the harbor and Stanley Park. In my opinion, it was the best view in the city, second only perhaps to Kitsilano Beach at night—or dusk when it really shone with all its glory.
Kathryn turned to me and North Vancouver’s lights winked behind her. “I would never want to leave if this was my home.”
I went about fixing us each a glass of eggnog and spiced rum. I added a dash of cinnamon on top and brought it to her where she stood by the windows. “The views don’t get old. You’re right. But being here alone can. When there’s no one to share any of this with…” I trailed off. “I don’t know. I guess it loses a bit of its splendor.”
She gazed out at the lights below. “I’ve never been much of a fan of Christmas but this year feels different to me.” Her voice was softer than it had ever been. She swirled her drink before taking a dainty sip. Surprise lifted her eyebrows. “This is good.”
“Let me guess. You’ve never tried eggnog before?”
She shook her head and took another eager sip. “No, I haven’t. But I’m starting to see why people are so fond of this holiday. Little by little.”
The city and the lights painted her face in shades of red, green, blue, and purple. She turned her back to the windows to face me and I retreated and made myself busy by turning on my own Christmas tree so we could enjoy more lights up close and personal.
Kathryn came and joined me in the living room as I also turned on the fireplace. I took a seat and kicked my feet up on an ottoman and she approached my tree. She inspected the ornaments and smiled as she discovered the old ones dangling from the branches.
She lifted a ceramic blue-printed bell. My name was scrawled on one side in purple glitter. “Did you make this?”
“Sure did,” I said as I sank deeper into the sofa cushions. “My mother would always have us make an ornament to hang on the tree. If you look inside, the year should be written in there.”
She turned it over delicately, carefully, and peered inside the bell. “Nineteen eighty nine.”
“I would have been seven.” I thought back to the kid I would have been back then. Flashes of a memory of sitting at the kitchen table with my siblings came back to me. We’d painted together. Dana’s bell had been pink. Eli’s was green in the beginning but he continued painting more and more coats on it until it turned a muddy brown. He’d cried all night about it until our father painted a brown one of his own and hung it in