Hold On

She was not wrong.

“Fake tree?” she asked.

“I don’t know. He said he’d get one. That could mean anything.”

“He’s a guy. If he says he’ll get one, that means it’ll be real and you’ll be cleaning up pine needles until February. You’ll also have a time of it talking him out of going somewhere and chopping one down himself just so he can chop down a tree. My advice, babe? Focus on those things, primarily talking him into a fake tree so you don’t have to vacuum pine needles for two months, not wasting time talking him into pink ornaments. Trust me on this. You got a badass in your bed, you learn to pick your battles.”

I had a badass in my bed. I loved him. I wanted to keep him there. So I should listen to Vi. She had a lot of experience. She’d married a badass in the making when she was eighteen, and he’d grown into a full-blown one who unfortunately got dead way too soon. She’d then married an even bigger one who kept knocking her up when she wanted to concentrate on hoping her second child didn’t get knocked up by her own badass boyfriend at the same time keeping an eye on the fact that her oldest daughter had begun dating a badass cop in Chicago.

Yes, I should listen to Vi. She lived and breathed badass.

Whatever you want.

Merry said that a lot.

To me and to my kid.

I stared at the tree.

Not only would it be awesome this year, it’d be even more awesome in the master suite next year. Our tree. Merry’s and mine.

Whatever you want.

“Bobbie gonna give me your discount?” I asked Vi.

“You’re buyin’ pink ornaments, aren’t you?” she asked back.

“Merry likes me to have what I want,” I told her.

“Yeah,” she said softly. “That’s why I have my new lavender bed set that Joe said he’d sleep on over his dead body. Then again, that’s also why Joe’s got his next kid in my womb.”

“Yeah,” I replied, feeling squishy she had that and now I did too. Decision made, I muttered, “This tree is gonna cost a mint.”

“I’ll call Bobbie. See what she can swing for you.”

“Thanks, Vi.”

“No probs, babe. See you later.”

“Later.”

I shoved my phone in my purse and moved to the baskets under the tree. I was filling my cart with boho Christmas when Bobbie wandered up to me.

She looked to the cart then to me. “Shit, I was gonna offer you thirty percent instead of Vi’s twenty-five, but you goin’ whole hog like that this late in the season, I’ll give you forty. Just tell ’em at the register you’re Vi’s friend and Bobbie says forty. They give you shit, make them page me.”

With that, she wandered away.

But I was grinning because forty was brilliant. It didn’t make this doable. I still had a grill to buy (housewarming). I also had a phone to buy (Merry’s screen was cracked and it drove me crazy in a way I didn’t know how it didn’t drive him crazy, so I was doing something about it, and what I was doing was for Christmas).

But for boho Christmas at Merry’s new lake house, for the first time since I’d clawed my way out from under it, I’d carry a balance on my credit card for a month (or two).

I’d also continue to cut back on the candy. The makeup was a wash since I was setting up my stash at Merry’s. Our first Christmas with Merry and spoiling my man, though, I’d sacrifice my candy.

Totally.

I got the tree stuff for me. I got the expensive lights for Merry. And I got some matching garlands to put on Merry’s mantel because, if you had a mantel at Christmas, it had to be decorated and I was pretty sure I could talk Merry into believing that.

But even I knew I was pushing it (but couldn’t stop myself) when I bought Christmas kitchen towels.

I was loading all of this in the back of the Equinox when I heard, “You do know you ruined my life.”

I stopped loading and looked to Mia Merrick, who was standing by my cart, holding a potted poinsettia curled in each arm.

Shit.

Why?

Really.

Why?