Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 92062 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92062 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
I can’t help but laugh at her. “I’m going to take a shower and get ready for the day.”
“But I cooked,” I remind her as she walks out of the kitchen. “Who cooked doesn’t clean.”
“You should have thought about that before you opened your mouth,” she quips.
I did not do the dishes, instead I joined her in the shower. I did the dishes while she fixed her hair. An hour later we are walking out of the house, I slide my hand in hers as we walk toward the truck. “It’s a nice day.” She lets my hand go to get in.
“You think the snow is going to be melted by the time the wedding comes?” she asks me when I get into the truck.
“Not sure.” I start the truck. “But my guess is Macy is going to make us take pictures outside.”
“Great.” She looks out the window as I make it to the Christmas market. I pull into the parking lot, shocked that it’s full. It takes a full twenty minutes before I find a parking space.
Getting out, she meets me in the back of the truck, and I bend to kiss her lips. She smiles at me as she lifts her hand to wipe off the lip gloss. I turn and slide my hand in hers as we walk toward the little huts that have been set up. There are rows and rows of huts set up like a little village, all around the lot.
A big Christmas tree is in the middle of the square with children running after each other. “Where do you want to start?” I ask her and she shrugs.
“I’m not sure, why don’t we start here?” She looks up at me. “Then work our way down the aisles.”
“Sure,” I agree. “Just tell me when you want to stop.”
“You’ll know. I’ll be yanking you.” She holds up our hands, our fingers loosely holding on to each other.
We pass a candle shop first and she pulls me into it. The scent of pine hits right away when I see wreaths hanging at the sides, as well as over the wooden top that is hanging overhead to stop the rain or snow from ruining them. “These are so pretty.” She picks up one of the candles in a mason jar. The top of the candle has a string of red and white around it, with holly hanging from it. “It smells like cinnamon,” she mentions, taking a whiff of it and holding it to my nose. “They are so good,” she says, taking another one that smells like cranberry and orange. “This would smell so good in the house.”
“So, buy it,” I urge and she nods her head. We walk out with a bag of three candles. I grab the bag from her as we walk to the next shop. This one is all full of knickknacks and she just walks past it until she gets to the shop where they have homemade hanging stockings.
“Ohh look.” She points to one of the socks that has a caramel cat on it with a Santa hat. “We have to get this.” She looks at me. “And this one for Whiskey,” she says of one that has Woof written down the front, a Santa face in the OO’s. “We need one for Baby Cat and Bean also.”
She looks through them and then a woman comes over. “Can I help you?”
“You wouldn’t have one with a gray cat, would you?” she asks her and the lady shakes her head.
“Just take one that has a cat on it,” I tell her and she glares at me. “You know he’s not going to know, right?”
“We’re going to fill it with cat toys,” she informs me.
“Elizabeth,” I reply, trying not to laugh, “cats don’t really play with toys.” She looks at me like I just told her Santa isn’t real and she’s eight. “They chase things when they want to chase things.” The glare turns into a deep look of death. “I’ll shut up now.”
“That would be wise,” she agrees. “We’ll take these three,” she tells the woman, “and I’ll take this one.” She picks up one that has a Grinch on it. “Which one best suits you?” she asks me. “Here, you can either have a reindeer or a snowman.”
“Why don’t you surprise me?” I tell her and she shoos me away. I turn and head away as she picks a stocking for me. I see her smiling at the woman and then walking to me, practically skipping. “I got one for each of us.” She holds up the bag. “We can hang them and fill them with little treats.”
“Like the anal plug?” I ask her and she throws her head back and laughs. I reach around to hug her neck, pulling her close to me. The smile on her face is from ear to ear and it dawns on me that in a little over a week from now, she’ll be gone. I don’t say anything else, instead I let her go and she walks over to the other hut, and I try to contain the crushing of my heart. I knew the score going in, knew it wasn’t going to end well. I had just hoped it wouldn’t hurt.