Colliding Hearts

Chapter 27 | I Want Him To Be Happy

𝐀 𝐕 𝐀 𝐋 𝐎 𝐍 ' 𝐒   𝐏 𝐎 𝐕

Searching for a Christmas Tree the day before Christmas probably isn't one of our best ideas my dad and I have ever had. It's always been our tradition. To get one together when I come back from college and since college only lets out a few days before Christmas day, we don't have a choice. My mom brought me up with a lot of traditions on holiday events and finding a real tree at a tree farm was one of them.

She hated the store-bought ones, claiming they weren't homely enough, and finding one together made memories. Even after she passed away, dad and I carried on the traditions she liked, knowing it would have made her happy doing them every year. Bundled up in my winter coat, gloves and scarf. A sharp cry from the warm weather of California, the New York winter weather is at the other end of the spectrum.

"How about this one?" Dad questions, pointing to a tree that looks a little worse for wear. It has shed a lot, so there isn't much greenery on the branches.

"Really dad? I think we can find a better one. The staff said there are more decent ones closer to the back since no one usually heads that far down." I explain to him as we carry on walking through the farm. "But at this rate we'll end up going to a forest and chopping down a tree there."

"As long as we leave no evidence, we'll be fine." Dad waves me off, and I laugh. "Well, these are perfect. Alright, take your pick."

I walk through the rows and rows of Christmas trees, my eyes searching for the perfect one. The green branches, although all the same green color, stand out as the mismatched lengths and heights of the branches make them each unique.

"How about this one?" I point to a nice-looking tree and he agrees. Finding one of the workers and paying for the tree, they help us trap it to the top of the car. Securing it on, dad and I make our way back to the house. The surrounding snow has now turned into slush, not surprising, since snow at Christmas is rare in New York. We usually get it around the first few months of the year. The streets definitely do not look like what tourists come to see at Christmas.

"You know. People may think we're crazy for always waiting so long to get a tree, but we always get a good one," Dad proudly states, tapping his hand against the steering wheel.

"If mom could see us now. She's murder us for waiting so long. You know she always had to get one the first day of December."

Dad chuckles. "Imagine if she saw how, I butchered the cookies we make."

"She wouldn't be that surprised."

"I'm offended. I think I've done ok for myself cooking wise," Dad scoffs, maneuvring through the traffic as we make our way to our neighborhood.

"Please, your cooking is like a college students," I insult, and he opens his mouth to respond. Until he realizes he cannot argue with my statement. Mumbling incoherently, I chuckle before we spend the rest of the drive listening to the music on the radio. Parking up outside our house, we get out unstrapping it from the car. We carry it up the steps and attempt to get it into the house, while Blue attacks it.

"Blue, this is not something you can eat!" Dad scolds Blue, who immediately runs to his dog bed like a scolded child. Getting it through the door now that Blue isn't in the way, we come to a halt. "Where do you want it?"

"In the corner near the fireplace," I decide, and we carry the tree over. Putting it in the corner. Unwrapping it from the netting they put it in, we work on making it look presentable and then having the vacuum from all the tree bristles that have fallen everywhere.

"Sweetheart, can you go into the attic and get the decorations?" Dad shouts from the living area as I put the vacuum away. Shouting back before I head to the door that leads to the attic, I head up and sigh at the amount of boxes that litter the attic. None of the boxes are labeled, so finding the Christmas decorations is like finding a needle in a haystack. Starting to sort them through all, I find holiday decorations for Halloween and birthday ones that are left up here until we need them. Boxes of baby items and mom's clothes. We need to start labeling these boxes, considering I have to sort through them every time we need something. My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I happily welcome the distraction as I sit back on my legs.