MORE THAN MISTLETOE

A DECISION TO MAKE

Chapter 6

"Oh my God, it's freezing," Vanessa said, huddling close to Ethan. "How do people do this?"

"It's part of the charm," Carol said, though her voice had that polite edge Ethan had learned to recognize. His mother was trying, but Vanessa wasn't making it easy.

They split up to search for the perfect tree—Carol and Diana going one direction, Alex and Liam another. Which left Ethan and Vanessa with Maya trailing slightly behind.

"What about this one?" Vanessa asked, pointing to a small, perfectly symmetrical tree near the entrance.

"That's a Charlie Brown tree," Maya said before Ethan could respond. "We need something bigger. More... alive."

"Charlie Brown tree?" Vanessa looked confused.

"You know, sad and scraggly? Though I guess that one's too perfect to be Charlie Brown." Maya was already moving deeper into the lot. "Come on, the good ones are always in the back."

Ethan watched her walk away, her boots crunching in the snow, and felt Vanessa tug on his arm.

"Is she always this... particular?" Vanessa asked quietly.

"It's tradition," Ethan said, surprised by the defensive note in his voice. "We always get the tree from the back of the lot."

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry." Vanessa held up her hands. "I'm just cold and trying to be helpful."

They followed Maya deeper into the trees. She moved with purpose, touching branches, circling trunks, rejecting tree after tree for reasons she only understood. Ethan remembered doing this with her for years—how she always knew exactly which tree was right, how she could spot potential in the scraggly ones everyone else passed by.

"This one," Maya said finally, stopping in front of a tall Douglas fir. It was a bit uneven on one side, but full and fragrant and exactly right. "What do you think, Ethan?"

It was the first time she'd said his name all day, and something in his chest loosened.

"It's perfect," he said.

Maya's smile was real this time, just for a moment, before she seemed to remember herself and looked away.

Vanessa studied the tree doubtfully. "It's kind of lopsided."

"That's what makes it perfect," Maya said. "The uneven side goes against the wall. You'll see."

While Ethan sawed through the trunk—harder work than he remembered—Vanessa stepped away to take a phone call. Maya stood nearby, her hands shoved in her pockets, watching him work.

"You're doing it wrong," she said after a minute.

"I'm doing it exactly how I always do it."

"Yeah, and it always takes you forever." Maya knelt down beside him. "You have to saw at an angle. Here, let me—"

Their hands met on the saw handle, and Ethan felt that familiar electric current run through him. Maya must have felt it too, because she pulled back quickly.

"You do it," she said, standing up. "I'll just... go find the others."

She walked away before Ethan could say anything, leaving him alone with a half-cut tree and a chest full of things he couldn't say.

By the time they got the tree back to the house and set it up in the living room, it was late afternoon. Vanessa's phone had been ringing constantly with work calls, and she'd finally excused herself to the guest room to deal with them.

"I'm so sorry," she'd said to Ethan. "Crisis at work. I'll just be an hour, tops."

That was two hours ago.

Now, Ethan was standing in the living room, watching Maya and his mom arrange ornaments on the tree. They were laughing about something, Maya reaching up to hang a glass ball on a high branch, and the scene was so achingly familiar that Ethan felt something c***k inside his chest.

This. This was what he wanted. Maya in his house, in his life, forever.

But she wasn't his. She'd never been his.

And the girlfriend upstairs was proof that he'd tried to move on.

"Ethan, honey, can you bring down the rest of the decorations from the attic?" his mom asked.

Grateful for the escape, Ethan headed upstairs. But as he passed the guest room where Vanessa was staying, he heard her voice through the door.

"No, I know. I'm trying to make a good impression, but they're just so... I don't know, different from us? The house is full of families, there are decorations everywhere, and everyone's so casual... Yes, I'm being nice. I'm being very nice."

Ethan stood frozen in the hallway.

"That girl, Maya, is sweet, I guess, but she's kind of intense about everything. Like, it's just a Christmas tree, you know? It doesn't have to be this whole production... Okay, okay, I know. I'm being judgey. It's just hard to fake enthusiasm when I'm freezing and covered in tree sap."

Ethan walked away before he could hear more. He made it to the attic, sat down on an old trunk, and put his head in his hands.

This wasn't working. Vanessa was trying, he knew she was trying—but she didn't get it. Didn't understand why traditions mattered, why the tree had to be perfect, why family was everything.

She didn't understand because she wasn't Maya.

And that wasn't fair to her. It wasn't fair to anyone.

When Ethan finally came back down with the decorations, Maya was hanging the star on top of the tree, balanced on a stepladder with Liam spotting her.

"There," she said, climbing down. "Perfect."

The lights twinkled, the ornaments shimmered, and the tree—lopsided and imperfect and exactly right—filled the room with the smell of pine and Christmas and home.

"It's beautiful," Diana said softly.

Maya caught Ethan's eye and smiled, really smiled, and for just a moment everything else fell away.

Then Vanessa came downstairs, apologizing profusely for missing the decorating, and the moment shattered.

Later that night, after Vanessa had left to drive back to the city ("Early client meeting tomorrow, I'm so sorry"), Ethan found himself alone on the back porch again.

The door opened behind him.

"You're going to freeze to death out here," Maya said.

"That seems to be a theme today."

Maya came to stand beside him, and they stood in silence, watching their breath fog in the cold night air.

"She's nice," Maya said finally. "Vanessa."

"You don't have to do that."

"Do what?"

"Pretend." Ethan turned to look at her. "I heard what she said on the phone. About the house, about you."

Maya's expression flickered with something—hurt? Vindication? "Oh."

"I'm sorry."

"You don't have to apologize for your girlfriend, Ethan."

"Maybe not. But I can apologize for bringing her here when I knew..." He stopped.

"Knew what?"

Everything. That would hurt Maya. That would hurt him. That no matter how much he tried, he couldn't make himself feel for Vanessa what he'd always felt for Maya.

"Nothing," Ethan said. "Forget it."

Maya looked at him for a long moment. "You're not happy with her."

It wasn't a question.

"Maya—"

"You don't have to answer. I can see it." She wrapped her arms around herself. "You deserve to be happy, Ethan. With someone who gets you. Who loves what you love."

"So do you."

Their eyes met, and Ethan saw his own longing reflected at him. For a second, just a second he thought about closing the distance between them, about finally saying all the things he'd kept locked inside for years.

But he didn't. Because he was still technically with Vanessa, and Maya was still his best friend's sister, some lines, once crossed, couldn't be uncrossed.

"I should go to bed," Maya said, her voice barely in a whisper. "Big day tomorrow. More decorating."

"Yeah. Goodnight, Maya."

"Goodnight."

She left, and Ethan stayed on the porch until the cold finally drove him inside.

Three weeks. They had three weeks of this.

He wasn't sure he'd survive it.