A Missed Opportunity

16

❃𝙺𝚒𝚊𝚛𝚊❃

I've always been a pretty festive person. I always liked to decorate the house, even as a kid. It was fun to go through the boxes of funny holiday decorations then reminisce about them as I put them up and around the house.

The house wasn't always full when the decorations were up, but I did almost always have my mom to celebrate with, and that was enough for me. Over these past few years, I've tried to pass on the love for decorating. And for the most part, Cameron likes it too. There are some things that he lets me handle, but even then he's always there to cheer me on while I stand on a chair to reach the highest spots.

It's almost always been just the two of us decorating, just like it used to be with me and my mom. This year's Thanksgiving is a little different though. Although we're closer to my mom, she's not here today to help us decorate. Who is here though is Noah, ready to help us reach the highest spaces in our new apartment. Only issue with that is it's sort of a tradition for us to struggle a little bit. It's kind of what adds to the whole magical atmosphere, I guess. Cameron agrees.

"Okay, higher or lower?" I ask as I move the canvas up some.

"High!" Cameron calls from his spot on the floor. I raise myself up on my tiptoes on the wobbly bar stool that was left by the last residents. Noah sucks in a sharp breath behind me, and I can almost feel his hands hovering at my hips just in case I stumble too much.

He doesn't like this part of our tradition. Who knew the guy was such a safety freak?

"There, there!" Cameron decides once I've moved the canvas around enough on the wall. I make a note of the spot as I grab my trusty thumbtack to stick it into the wall. I wobble a little more while I push it through the thick wall with all my might.

"Kiara," Noah hisses as the unstable stool wobbles below me. I should've used one of the kitchen table chairs, but they weren't as tall as the wooden bar stool.

I guess it would've been safer though. Next time.

I can't help my laugh as I finally hang the canvas on the wall. As soon as it's up there, a firm pair of arms wrap tightly around my hips. "Okay, it's there. Enough now." Noah breathes as he lifts me off the stool. I drop my hands on his arms that wrap around me to hang on tight in horror. The journey from the bar stool to the ground isn't long, but I'm still terrified the entire way. Luckily, he doesn't drop me.

"I made that with my hand." Cameron smugly informs as he stares up at the canvas with a painted-on turkey hand proudly. Noah's arms drop from my body once I'm down, and he immediately goes for the stool to get it away from me before I decide I need it to hang something else. He lets me go, but I still somehow feel the warmth of his arms wrapped around my hips. I look over my shoulder to watch him take the stool over to the corner of the room just to confirm he's no longer touching me.

I take a deep breath as I look over at Cameron. I make myself smile at him. "You did, and it's gorgeous." I nod. I walk over to the box of Thanksgiving decorations and begin rummaging through them all.

Cameron groans at that. "Mommy," He protests with a deep frown.

I frown back. "What?"

"Gorgeous isn't manly." Noah chimes in, tsking as he shakes his head at me.

"You ruined it." Cameron bitterly decides.