A tiny box tucked into one of the tree branches catches my eye. I retrieve it, but there’s no card attached. I carefully open the box and pull out bits of cotton to find a shiny red ornament with the hand-lettered words,The Giving Tree.
I pull out the remaining pieces of cotton fluff, but there's nothing more. I'm more perplexed than before. The bell jingles. A delivery driver bundled in winter gear plods in with three boxes piled on a hand dolly.
“Delivery for Brain Freeze. Where would you like these?” The delivery person waits expectantly. “Ma’am? I’ve got three more boxes on the truck.”
“Leave them there. I’ll sort them later.” I wait eagerly for him to bring in the remaining boxes, unsure of what’s in them. I haven’t ordered anything that I remember. There hasn’t been time with all the extracurricular activities Sebastian and I have been enjoying. “Thank you.”
I wait for him to leave before splicing the tape open on the first box. Stacks of cardboard pint-sized containers and lids line the box. I open the next three boxes to find more of the same. The fifth box is smaller and brimming with rolls of printed stickers with the Brain Freeze logo.
My eyes well up with tears. I forgot about the family who stopped in and their request for to-go containers.Did they do all of this?
My heart pounds as I open the last box. It's filled with shiny ball ornaments and metallic markers. A single red envelope sits atop the shiny baubles. I open it to find a handwritten note with a single call to action.
“Bring The Giving Tree to life, Sophie. Make it your own. Merry Christmas.”
I reread the note. My heart pinches, and my nose and eyes begin to sting. I glance at my perfect little tree and its simplicity.
It isn't until now that I'm reminded to focus on all I have and what I can give. Brain Freeze will recover. If it doesn't, I'll bounce back. Not everyone's so lucky. I'm more determined than ever to make a difference, and I'm starting with the gift I've been given.
***
Sebastian
“Are you bringing Sophie to dinner next weekend?”
Drake attaches the last railcar to the train set Mom stashed in the attic years ago. He wires the tracks with twinkling lights and adds a candy wreath to the front of the engine car.
“Not a chance. She’ll be eaten alive.”
The window's shaping up. The tree's full and fluffy, packed with shiny cellophane candies, twinkling lights, and a working train set I'll fill with assorted chocolate boxes as soon as Drake's finished. The window lacks Treasured Past's pizazz but makes up for it with nostalgia.
“What happened to your competitive spirit, Sebastian? I’ve never known you to back down from a challenge.”
“She trusts me, Sebastian. I can’t risk pushing her too soon, too fast.” The whispered words are barely audible. I’d risk anything in this world to keep my family happy and my dreams afloat. But Sophie’s struggling and my family’s bigger than life.
“If she can put up with you, she can handle all of us.” Drake chuckles. “Hope manages to put up with us. I bet Sophie’s just as resilient.”
The lights inside Brain Freeze flicker to life in a rainbow of vibrant colors. I’m thrilled at the sight, though I don’t know when Sophie had time to sneak in decorating without me this last week. We’ve been together non-stop outside of work. Even then, I get flashes of her throughout the day, chatting up customers and dishing ice cream.
Sophie steps into the window, and Drake's voice fades into the distance. My heart pounds against my chest, thumping in my eardrums and generally causing havoc to my emotional well-being.
I catch her eye and wave, dreading the day ahead apart from each other. Her eyes brighten when she smiles, and I’m grateful I’ve had a hand in lifting her holiday mood.
“Done.” Drake checks the train connections, then fires up the remote. The train circles the tree with manufactured steam and whistles streaming from the miniature speakers. “Just like old times.”
Only it isn't like old times. Back in the day, we'd struggle for the remote, wrestling our way to who goes first. Not anymore. Now we're a team, helping each other get things done. Like Sophie and I, working together toward a goal instead of clashing horns to outdo one another.
“Thanks for all your help, Drake.” I extend my hand to shake his, but he double slaps my shoulder instead.
“Anytime.” He swipes a small box of chocolates from the windowsill, then backs his way toward the front door, grinning from ear to ear. “For my sweetheart.”
“Go on, get outta here.” I wave him off, happy to spread some chocolate holiday cheer to Hope. Drake will get all the credit, but I don’t mind.
I begin filling railcars with decorative chocolate boxes. Drake pops his head back in the door.
“Mom said to remind you to bring dessert.” He waggles his eyebrows. “Bring Sophie, Sebastian. We don’t bite.”
It isn’t that I don’t want to introduce Sophie to the family. It’s that I don’t want to overwhelm her. Things are going great between us. Better than I could’ve imagined, but it’s still all so fast.