An hour later and the Bell’s tree was trimmed out and lovely, if I did say so myself. While Matthew and I had strung the white lights through the branches, Charlie sat on the floor and cut out more paper snowflakes. Once the lights were in place, I took flocked twig branches and silk berry clusters and worked them throughout the spruce, filling up empty spaces. Next, I strung burlap ribbon through the branches like rope garland, and Matthew tied red ribbons onto a couple dozen pinecones. I had both of them hang those as ornaments, while I cleared off their mantle, layered pine greenery and branches of fresh holly on top and worked the set of red lights through it.
I took the half dozen little silk cardinals and pointed out to Charlie where to put them, so the red birds would stand out on the tree. Up and down the step stool she went, placing each bird with help from her father. When she was done we added Charlie’s white paper snowflakes and they filled in the tree, adding a touch of whimsy.
While Matthew called in an order for pizza, I pulled out the large spool of burlap ribbon and another of red velvet. I perched on the edge of the big leather ottoman and tied up a two layered bow for a tree topper.
Charlie watched it all with wide eyes. “How did you learn to do that?”
“My mom taught me,” I said around the chenille stems I held between my teeth.
I threaded the chenille stems through the ribbon loops, twisted them tightly and fluffed the bow. I attached it to the top of the tree, demonstrating to the little girl how to work the streamers into long curls down the sides.
It was starting to get dark outside when Matthew at last plugged the tree and the mantle lights in, making Charlie gasp in delight. “Oooh, it’s so pretty!”
“The paper snowflakes are my favorite.” I rested my hand on the girl’s shoulder. “You make good snowflakes kiddo.”
“It’s one bad-ass rustic holiday tree,” Charlie repeated.
I snorted out a helpless laugh at Matthew’s reaction to his daughter’s comment, and began to stack the boxes.
“The pizza will be here in forty minutes,” Matthew said. “Lets get this all cleaned up before—”
“Perfect,” I cut him off. “I have twelve feet of pine roping in this last box. Between that and your old outdoor lights we can add a little something to the outside of your house.”
“Well, I—”
“As the town’s acting Sugarplum Fairy, I should point out that you’re the only house on the block without any outdoor holiday lights, Professor Bell.” I shook my head. “It’s shameful.”
“Shameful,” Charlie parroted my words.
“We can keep it simple,” I tried to assure him. “If we wrap the pine roping in the colored lights we could drape the garland over and around your front door.”
“Can we, Daddy?” Charlie jumped up and down. “Can we? I want the outside of our house to be pretty too!”
Matthew studied his daughter, then shifted his eyes to me. “Alright,” he said. “I did notice an outlet on the front porch. I’ll get an outdoor extension cord from the garage.” He walked off towards the back of the house.
“You’re such a trooper,” I called after him.
Charlie ran to put her coat on. “Violet, can we put ribbons on the garland too?”
“Sure,” I said. “Go grab that spool of red ribbon.”
“Okay!” Charlie dashed off. “I want lots of bows!”
“Not sure how your father’s going to feel about that.” I shrugged my own coat on over my blue sweater and gathered up the box with the pine roping.
“I can ask him really hard...” she began.
“Charlie,” I said in a warning tone.
“Oh.” She frowned at me. “Is that man...manip...” she struggled over the word.
“Manipulation,” I said. “And yes, it is.”
Charlie thought it over. “Maybe I could just say, please.”
“There you go.” I pressed a fingertip to the end of her nose. “It is a magick word after all.”
CHAPTER NINE
The Bell’s once tan and bland living room had been transformed. Now, red lights twinkled on the mantle amidst a mixture of fragrant greenery, and the rustic tree illuminated the picture window of the living room. While a fire crackled merrily in the grate, the three of us devoured the pizza. Afterwards, I gathered up the mistletoe from the last of my emergency decorating supplies, tied a bow on it, and hung it above the front door.
“Violet?” Charlie asked.
I stepped down off the kitchen chair. “What’s up, buttercup?”
“Why do you hang the toe above the door?”
“Mistletoe.” I picked up the chair and carted it back to the kitchen. “Because it’s a magickal plant of Yule, and it will bless the house with love and peace.”
Charlie checked the kitchen carefully. “Is Daddy still outside?”
“Yes, he’s hauling all the empty boxes back to my van.” The girl seemed so serious, I wondered if she was in trouble.
“Would you come live with us?” she asked. “You could teach me to make the flowers, and I could take care of Tank.”
My heart stuttered in my chest. “I have a job Charlie, at the flower shop. I can’t be your housekeeper.”
Charlie frowned. “No, not like Mrs. Gruber. I love you. I want you to stay with me always.”
I couldn’t think of a single thing to say to that. The special little girl had wound her way into my heart in such a short amount of time.
“I think I’m going to ask Santa Claus about this,” Charlie decided.
Oh dear gods, I thought. Matthew came back in through the kitchen door and Charlie scampered away.
“Something going on?” he asked.
I shook my head. “Do me a favor, and keep that kid away from any Mall Santas...I have a feeling she’s going to start asking for things no one is ready for.”
“I don’t know...” Matthew took my hand and gave it a squeeze. “You might be very surprised at what I’m ready for.”
We spent a pleasant evening together. Matthew talked about the classes he
