Three Christmas Wishes - Krista Wolf Page 0,46

the way in. The two of them were both carrying boxes.

“Cuz!”

Valerio set down whatever he was carrying and hugged my little brother tighter than normal, practically lifting him from the couch and adding a few back-claps for the holidays. Before he could set him down Sloane took over and did the same.

“W—What are you guys doing here?” asked Brandon.

“Your brother invited us,” Sloane smiled, nodding in my direction. “I’m Sloane, by the way. In case he hasn’t mentioned me.”

Brandon grinned awkwardly. He took the hand he was offered and shook it.

“He has actually,” Brandon admitted. “In fact, he’s talked about you a lot.”

“Good things I hope,” Sloane shot me a playful smirk.

My brother smiled and nodded, although weakly. “So what’s in the boxes?”

“Christmas!” Valerio declared.

My brother’s look of confusion was mirrored in my own eyes. “But—”

“We figured you could use some help decorating,” Sloane said, shoving one of the boxes Danielle’s way. Looking down through the clear plastic cover, the multi-colored bulbs and lights made her face light up instantly. In fact, her smile shattered the sullen gloom that had settled over the house.

“Do you have a tree?” Valerio asked.

“No.”

“Well you do now.”

He dragged another box inside — this one longer and thinner than the rest. Then he closed the door, divorcing us all from the bitter cold.

“It’s a plastic pop-up tree,” Valerio said apologetically. “It was too late to go back to the lot, and it was the best we could do on such short notice.”

They began unpacking everything in a flurry of activity, with Danielle eagerly joining in. There were lights and garland, wreaths and ornaments, even a few Christmas candles. None of it was extravagant. It looked more like it had been bought last minute at the dollar store, which it probably was.

Still, it was amazingly thoughtful. Beautiful, even. And best of all, it got Brandon up off the couch.

“Whoa.”

As he bent down to help out, his excitement grew. In only a few short minutes, his face was plastered with a boyish grin.

“Look, Kade!” he held up a sprig of plastic mistletoe. “Just like we used to have!”

I laughed, because it was literally the same plastic ball our mother hung each year from the archway leading into the kitchen. I took it from him, reached up, and hung it from the old brass hook that was still there.

“Now it’s Christmas,” I smiled.

Danielle put on some holiday music, adding to the festivities. The fact she was streaming it through her phone’s tinny speakers didn’t matter one bit. Nor did the flimsy plastic tree and its even flimsier tree stand. The whole thing was still beautiful, even though it came complete with lights that only half-worked until you shook them a few times with a closed fist.

“Look at him,” Danielle whispered to me as Sloane helped Brandon tear into a box of ornaments. “I haven’t seen him this happy since…”

“I know.”

She didn’t have to elaborate. I knew what she meant. To say my brother had been in a funk was a woeful understatement, but in decorating for the holiday he’d come alive again. He was like… well… a kid on Christmas.

“Remember these?” Brandon asked, holding up a set of plastic icicles.

“Yeah,” I smiled. “I think we still have a few of those in the attic.”

My brother’s eyes lit up even further. “Really? Go get em’.”

A minute later I was in the den, pulling down the rope that would access the attic stairs. There wasn’t much up there, but whatever I found would be even more nostalgic for him. And yeah, for me too.

Already I was choking up, remembering all the times Brandon and I had helped our father decorate each year. The old man had grumbled a lot about what a pain in the ass it was, but when the house was done and the sun went down and we flipped on all the colorful lights? I could remember the smile on his face wiping all the complaints away.

“Hey…”

I stopped and turned with one foot on the bottom rung of the ladder. Sloane was walking toward me, holding her arms out.

“Are you upset with me?”

I scoffed so hard I nearly snorted. “No, of course not! Why?”

“Because it looks like you’re crying.”

I grunted in denial, wiping a tiny bit of dampness from the corners of my eyes. They were glassy maybe, I’d give her that. But I damned sure wasn’t crying.

“I’m sorry if I overstepped,” Sloane told me. “I just thought… well, Valerio and I thought—”

“Get over here.”

I reached out