When Saturday finally rolled around, my mum proudly announced that, since it was the first weekend in December, we would engage in our traditional decorating of the Christmas tree. Of course, first we had to get the tree. Dad took Hunter and Jesse out to work on that manly task, while Georgia and I went to the shops to buy clothes for the evening’s festivities.
I was never a big fan of shopping - that was more Georgia’s thing than mine. However, she was so excited about choosing me something to wear that would make me ‘irresistible,’ I couldn’t rob her of the pleasure. My sister had a very good eye for fashion, and after visiting some of her favourite high street stores, she talked me into buying a gorgeous deep purple dress that I wouldn’t have dreamed of trying on without her encouragement. By the time we were finished, everyone else was back at the house, and the scent of Christmas tree filled the air. Dad put the tree in its usual spot in the far corner of the living room, and pine needles were scattered all over the floor.
“Girls, you’re home!” Mum said, beaming as she came into the living room carrying a tray of hot chocolate, topped with whipped cream and marshmallows.
Nothing makes her happier than being at home, perfecting her domestic goddess routine, and Christmas has always been her favourite time of year. As she placed the tray on the coffee table, she said, “I’ll go and make two extra mugs, wait there.”
Georgia and I exchanged a smile, and sat down on the sofa. Jesse and Hunter were sitting on the floor, and my dad was in his chair by the window.
“Did you get everything you were looking for?” Dad asked.
“Yes,” Georgia replied, with a grin. “Isabelle bought a new dress.”
“For tonight?” Hunter asked. “Are we dressing up?”
“Of course! You don’t go out in Notting Hill at night wearing dirty jeans and t-shirts with holes in,”
she said, nodding towards the tear in his shirt.
“Aw, crap,” he said, adjusting it so the rip wouldn’t show as much. “Maybe I need to go shopping too.”
Georgia was about to squeal in astonishment at the idea he hadn’t brought any “going out” clothes, but then he smiled, making me laugh. Georgia’s face relaxed. “Thank God,” she said. “I’d hate to be related to a slob!”
She threw a cushion at him to show she was kidding, and he caught it, resting it in his lap.
The sound of Christmas music suddenly began to filter through from the CD player in the hallway, and Mum came back with our drinks.
As we took them, Georgia and I exchanged another smile, this time of excitement. It wasn’t Christmas until Mum made her amazing hot chocolate, and started playing festive tunes.
“Are we ready to get started?” she asked, just as excited, if not more so, than Georgia and I.
“I am,” I said, standing up. “Where are the decorations?”
“Oh damn,” Dad said, “I knew there was something I forgot!”
He set his drink down on the table, and headed for the storage cupboard under the stairs where the decorations lived for the other eleven months of the year.
Everyone else got to their feet, and migrated towards the Christmas tree.
“That really is a beauty,” Mum said, staring at the lush greenness, “It’s such a shame they make so much mess.”
“Mum, you vacuum seven times a day,” Georgia laughed, “The needles barely have time to settle!”
Mum grinned. “Even so, my hoovering is no match for pine needles.”
“They smell good, though,” Jesse said. “I love the smell of Christmas trees.”
He appeared to be revelling in the mixed scent of pine and hot chocolate, as his eyes glazed over for a moment. I knew exactly how he felt. All we needed was some gingerbread baking in the oven, and the setting would be perfect.
Dad returned with the box of decorations, and placed it on the floor in the middle of us all.
“So here’s how it works,” he said. “The girls decorate the tree, and the boys hang all the awkward stuff on the ceiling. Usually, it’s just me, so I’ll be glad of the help.”
While Dad, Jesse and Hunter started pulling out garlands, Mum plucked out the box of tree decorations, and we gathered around for our annual reminiscing of the ornaments we’d collected over the years.
As we all set about our tasks, I felt warm and cosy, in spite of the cold outside. Dad set up a step ladder, while Jesse and Hunter continued to rummage through the box. I watched as Jesse laughed at something Hunter said, and found myself momentarily knocked out by his smile. Of course I’d seen him smile before, but there was something about the magic of the moment that made my stomach flip. He was in my house, with my family, helping us with a task we’d been doing together since Georgia and I were kids.
Dear Christmas fairy, please can I have Jesse as my gift this year?