And in them were linens, Christmas decorations, dishes. Plates.
All kinds of things that were not actually stocked in the little house, but spoke to the fact that a family might have lived here at one time. With great eagerness, she began to cart the boxes down, dispatching any spiders that crawled out from the depths of them. Some things were chewed, suggesting a rodent presence. But that was just life when you lived in the country.
Violet accepted these creatures as part and parcel to the deal. It didn’t really perturb her.
She took the box of dishes into the kitchen and began to unpack it, cleaning each and every one before she put them in the cupboards. Then she went back into the bedroom and examined the other items critically.
She hunted around until she found a washer and dryer, stashed into an alcove in the hall, covered by an accordion folded door. She stashed as many of the linens in as possible, then started to look at all the Christmas decorations.
They were clearly old. All yellow-gold tinsel and aluminum stars. Perfectly preserved houses and a blanket of snow, that seemed to make up a village. They were made of slim cardboard with glitter pressed to the outside, and small colored cellophane windows. And she decided then that if she was going to be away from her family for Christmas, she would have some retro Christmas cheer. And so the next bit of work was something a bit more arduous, but she found an axe and put on a stocking cap, then wandered into the forest, hunting around until she found a scraggly tree that would be easy for her to manage. She cut it down, the axe moving through the spindly trunk with only a few blows.
Then she began to drag it back toward the house. It got hung up on a few rocks, and once between two trees, but otherwise her journey was smooth enough.
She hefted it up the steps, and then dragged it inside, making sure to turn it the correct way so she didn’t strip the branches on their way through the door.
She dug out the rusted tree stand and managed to prop the tree in it, turning the screws as tightly as she could. And when they wouldn’t go tight enough around the tiny tree, she wedged some washcloths in there to brace it.
She stood back and surveyed it, feeling pleased with her work. She pushed it to the center of the living room. There was no TV. So might as well make the tree the focal point. She spent the rest of the afternoon digging through the ornaments and procuring a nice little set for the tree.
The smell of the chili and cornbread filled the house now, and she was exceptionally pleased with everything she had done.
Are you auditioning to be his housewife?
She scowled at herself. No. It was just that she wasn’t going to sit in unfestive, nonseasonal squalor simply because he was happy to do so. And maybe, just maybe, she was picking at him a little bit.
It was beginning to get dark outside, which was perfect. She plugged in the lights and was thrilled to see that they all lit up. They were large, brightly colored, bold, and they added to the exceedingly midcentury appeal of all the decor.
Just then, she heard heavy boot steps on the porch, and she felt her heart jump up into her throat.
Oh, she really was ridiculous.
He opened the door and stopped. And Wolf Garrett looked shocked. It was the second time she’d seen that look on his face. The other time had been when he had seen the pregnancy test.
“Merry Christmas,” she said.
“It’s November,” he said.
“But Thanksgiving is over. And I am in a festive mood. If I have to be away from my family, then I’m going to have some Christmas cheer.” She said the same thing to him that she had said to herself. Because it was true. It was all true.
“What the hell did you do?”
“It’s fairly self-explanatory. But I also made you dinner.”
“Thanks,” he said.
“What would you have done for dinner?”
“I don’t know. Usually I just dig something out of the freezer.”
“Right. Well, I’m not going to do that. That’s not how I eat. It’s not how I live. So. There you are.”
“You’re very tentative about the whole arrangement, but have no trouble coming in and making it all yours,” he said.
“No,” she said, feeling a bit evil now. “Not at all. But then, you had no trouble walking into my life and telling me exactly what I was going to do, and the only things that made sense. Which were all things that made sense to you, and all things that you wanted. Asking me to change everything. So if I change a few things around to suit myself, then you’re going to have to deal with it.”
“Where did you get all this?”
“From the attic.”