She collected a small pile of her own, too. A really cute barber tree ornament from Mitch and Paige made her smile but, surprisingly, it was Andy’s gift that made her teary-eyed. It was a really old photo of her father enlarged to fit a new five-by-seven frame, obviously taken by Andy on one of their pre-fallout sledding trips. Her dad was standing next to his snowmobile at the top of a steep, icy-looking hill, with his arms raised in victory and a huge grin on his face. She’d never seen the photo, so she assumed he didn’t get a chance to give her dad a copy before her mom cut him out of their lives.
It was such a joyful picture the tears just blurred her vision for a couple of minutes without falling, and then she hugged him on impulse. “Thank you.”
“Merry Christmas, Katie.”
She set the photo on the mantel near the picture of Josh’s parents to keep it safe, swiped at her eyes and went back to being the elf.
When she handed Paige a big box, everybody stopped what they were doing to watch her open her gift. They all knew Mitch had made it himself, but nobody knew what it was. When she’d asked him earlier why he wasn’t giving it to her on Christmas morning, he’d told Katie he wanted her to open it surrounded by family.
Of course, Paige took her time opening it. Slitting the tape with her fingernail. Slowly and ever so carefully folding back the wrapping paper. Lifting the lid on the box as if she was afraid whatever was inside might jump out at her. Although, that one Katie could understand. These were Kowalskis, after all.
Then, after all that, Paige burst into tears before she took whatever it was out of the box so they could all see it.
“What is it?” Lauren asked, straining to see.
Mitch, who’d looked startled at first by his wife’s emotional outburst but moved in quickly to comfort her, lifted the gift out of the box. It was a sign—the kind that got mounted on a post outside a house or hung by the front door. Mitch had used a router to cut in letters, and then painted the recesses in colors that matched their new house.
In large letters, it read Welcome to Our Home. And then, in smaller letters at the bottom, The Kowalskis, Est. 2012.
Josh had to scramble for a box of tissues because there wasn’t a dry female eye in the house. Even Katie got a little choked up. Paige had spent her entire life looking for a sense of home, family and community. She certainly had one now.
“Too much crying on Christmas Eve,” Ryan grumbled. “I say next year we have a gag-gift rule.”
It took almost half an hour to clean up the wrapping paper, but Katie didn’t mind. Their Christmases had been a lot smaller in past years, and she was so thankful to have more of the people she considered family around her, she didn’t mind the extra mess.
“I found out the other day,” Josh said when he came to take the full trash bag of paper from her, “that Max’s job involves shipping boxes more often than the average person does. And Miranda thinks I’m adorable.”
Miranda had worked at the post office for as long as Katie could remember. Maybe even for as long as anybody in Whitford could remember. “Miranda is also like ninety years old. And no wiles.”
“No, the condition was no feminine wiles. That’s not an issue for me.”
She laughed. “Go ahead, then. You seduce Miranda into letting you peek inside one of Max’s packages. Just do me a favor and make sure it’s caught on the security camera. I’ll give Drew a heads-up and, as police chief, he can request the footage. I bet posting that on the lodge’s Facebook page would really increase business with the elderly demographic.”
“Maybe I can get you side work washing trucks for our guests after they see what a nice job you do on mine.”
“Hey, you two,” Rosie called. “Ryan, Lauren and Nick are getting ready to leave. Come say goodbye.”
But Josh had one last parting remark. He looked at Katie, making no effort to disguise the heat in his eyes. “It’s a good thing Max can’t see you in that dress. There’s not a man alive who could deny you anything tonight.”
“Really?”
His smile was slow and sizzling. “Really.”
*
Josh was having one hell of an argument with himself. Everybody had gone home, Rose had gone to bed, and he should politely help Katie clean up before following suit.
Or he could not so politely push her up against the wall, kiss her until their legs gave out and then take her right there on the floor with that killer dress shoved up around her hips.
He could almost imagine cartoon versions of himself, good and not so good, perched on each shoulder.
“She’s your friend and you shouldn’t mess with that,” the polite him would say, while the not polite him would counter with, “Look at those legs and think about what they’d feel like wrapped around you while she begs for more….”
The real Josh was feeling less polite with every passing second.
“I’m so glad that’s over,” Katie said, drawing his attention away from his internal debate and back to her body in that dress. It was a good thing her regular clothes didn’t show it off like that, or he’d spend every football game in a drooling stupor. “But I think everybody had a good time.”