Chapter 13

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Shawn texts me on Friday night.

Shawn: Be ready at 10 am and dress warm. We will be outside.

I look at the temp prediction on my phone. It's going to be below freezing. Is he nuts?

At 10 sharp, there's a knock on my door. Shawn is wearing boots, a parka with a hood, and has a hat and gloves in his hand.

"You meant it when you said 'dress warm,' eh?" I say.

I go in my closet and swap the cute jacket I'd picked out with a heavier one. I already had on my lined duck books. Even though I knew my hair would hate me, I also grabbed a hat and thick mittens off the shelf.

"Ready," I say.

Once we're in his car, I ask, "What are we up to?"

He gives a vague, "You'll see."

We drive through the city, out on the highway, and exit onto a two lane road which we travel on about twenty minutes before he pulls over.

We stop at a diner on the side of the road. It's a total hole in the wall, but I only had coffee this morning and I am starving.

It's a bit early for lunch so we each order breakfast. Shawn gets eggs, hash browns, toast, and pancakes. I get waffles with extra whipped cream.

Bellies full, we hit the road again. After another 45 minutes of driving, which is spent making small talk about our favorite movies (he talks about his recent love for Tarantino films, I talk about my obsession with British rom-coms), we pull down a dirt road that has a sign at the entrance.

CUT YOUR OWN CHRISTMAS TREES

Shawn parks the Jeep and hops out and opens my door.

"Put your hat and mittens on. We're headed up there," he says, gesturing to a large hill dotted with trees. There's about a foot of snow on the ground.

I get bundled up as he walks over to the man who presumably runs the place. The guy gives him a saw. Shawn holds it in his left hand and grabs my mittened hand with his right. Up the hill we trudge.

After about 20 minutes of walking, we come to a cluster of trees.

"Maybe one of these is good," he says happily. "Let's look closer."

Shawn Mendes takes tree selection seriously. We look at eight different trees from every possible angle and he rejects them all. Up the hill further we go.

By the time we hit the third cluster of trees, there are no longer any footprints indicating other people have been this far. I'm hoping he finds what he wants because my nose feels like it might have frostbite.

"This one is beautiful!" I say as convincingly as I can, teeth chattering.

Shawn cocks his head and walks around it. The tree is about nine feet tall and has a really nice shape. There are no bare or weird branches.

"Great. So this is your tree! Let's cut it down!" He is quite pleased by this choice.

"Actually, it's your tree. I don't need one," I respond.

Shawn shakes his head. "No! We're each getting a tree. I went shopping yesterday and bought two stands, enough lights, bulbs, and ornaments for both trees. We'll decorate yours first at your place and then we'll do mine." His enthusiasm is adorable. "Tonight we can sit with the lights out and just stare at the trees. We can even go back and forth between our places so we can enjoy both."

I almost don't have the heart to say what I am about to say because he put so much into planning this.

"I love this idea. I think decorating your tree will be fun. I have never done that before! Sitting by it sounds really nice and cozy," I pause, "but here's the thing...I don't need a tree. I'm Jewish."

"Shit," he says, his smile disappearing.

"Sorry," I say.

"Hold on, I don't mean it like that. I was stupid to assume you celebrated Christmas. I'm pissed at myself, not you!"

"There aren't a ton of Jewish people in Canada. It wasn't like your assumption was crazy," I say. "And this was such a great date idea."

He smiles. "You're really okay decorating my tree? That's not against any of your beliefs?"

"My family is nominally Jewish. We celebrate the major holidays and kind of adhere to the dietary rules, but that's about it. Oh, and I had a bat mitvah, but we had it in New York since so much of my family is there. I am very ok with decorating a tree!"

"Then let's cut this baby down and get it home," he says grinning.

Cutting it down takes a bit of time. I'm pretty sure I am literally frozen in some places on my body by the time we make it back down the hill. Shawn pays for the tree and talks to the guy who rings him up. Together they tie it to the roof.

"Let's stop at that diner again and get you something hot to drink," Shawn suggests, probably after noticing my chattering teeth.

He gets a coffee and I order hot cocoa. He orders a platter of poutine for us to share.

"I thought we could get take-out at my place later," he says.

"This might be the longest second date in history," I say smiling across the booth at him.

"Considering how short the first second date was, that's okay," he says. He then grabs my hand and gently strokes it with his thumb. I can feel a callous, probably from playing guitar. "This date is better, yeah? Even if I totally fucked up by making it Christmas themed?"

"It is," I say softly.

When we get back in the car, Shawn reaches over and takes my hand in his, resting them on my thigh. We listen to music as we get to know each other better.

"So you seriously love math?" he asks, as if that's the craziest thing he's ever heard.

"I like it because it's like a puzzle. It's exciting to figure something out. Plus, it's straightforward. I never really liked English or history classes because too much was left up to interpretation."

Shawn laughs. "That's why I did like those classes. I could bullshit my way through them!"

We eventually move on to talking about his music. Listening to him speak with such passion enthralls me, though I'm a little bummed that he lets go of my hand so he can gesture enthusiastically.

By the time we get back to the condo, I'm warm inside and out.

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