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For the lost and forgotten ones. And the believers who hold on tight.
I’ve wondered if I worked hard enough at my bruised and broken bits, if I could be shiny again, too. I’ve wondered if anyone might ever see me as something precious.
I do a little hop skip over the last board and greet the two massive Douglas firs waiting patiently by the door, a delivery from a Christmas tree farm a couple of towns over.
Awwww, Lovelight!
“I’m a Ghost of Christmas Past, Harriet. Your reclamation awaits.”
Lmfao
I tip my head to the side and study her. She feels . . .familiar. Like the edge of a memory I can’t quite grasp. Or an . . .impression, almost. A song I’ve heard before.
Eyes emoji
“Why aren’t you haunting a nice gal in Ireland, then?” “I don’t know. This is the location I’ve been assigned.” I scratch at my jaw. “Probably because you Americans need more haunting than most.”
Accurate
“I’d like to talk to your supervisor, Ghost of Christmas Past.” “Oh, please. Don’t be that person.”
I guzzle at it like a greedy little goblin.
Same (she’s talking about coffee)
“You’re telling me people don’t notice you?” A smile hooks the corner of his mouth. It’s almost as devastating as the dimples. “Flirting won’t win you any favors, Harriet.”
“I promise you, Harriet. I won’t let go.”
I’ve had only sharp edges and curt words. I’ve forgotten what softness feels like.
“You look . . .capable,” I decide, staring at his hands again. “Rugged.” “Is that a good thing?” I blow across the top of my mug, watching the steam dance over the edge. “Not for me,” I mutter.
Oui oui
I want to make sure she’s okay. I don’t think she has anyone to make sure she’s okay.
It feels good being here. It’s like—it’s like I’m absorbing some of her light.
“You have a cat?” “Yes.” He nods. “I told you I take care of the strays.” “Taking care of the strays is different from I have a cat.” “Not to me.” He pauses. “They’re the only company I can keep. I want to make sure they’re doing well.” Well, that’s . . .cute.
Ugh CUTE GHOST MAN
“If your hope was to kill me,” I say while gripping the side of the rink, “let me remind you that I’m already dead.”
I’m not a man easily swayed by whims, but with Harriet, I’ve completely lost control of the situation.
YES BE SWAYED
“Would you rather I make you work for it?” A slow smile tugs at one corner of my mouth. “I wouldn’t mind working for it,” I say lightly.
Hell yeah
“The knot is stubborn. I can do it.” “Give me your foot.” “What? No. Why do you need my foot?” “So I can help.”
Ugh cute
“You’re staring,” she whispers. “Can’t help it,” I whisper back.
“Aye, we can stay a few minutes more. But come here,” he grunts, tugging me closer. “You’re too far away.”
Sand is slipping through our hourglass and it doesn’t matter how many handfuls I grab in an attempt to extend our time.
“It’s not a Podunk tree farm. They actually run a pretty robust operation,” I explain. “They have an ice-skating rink. And a bakery.”
Cute
“He has one, too. Did you make out with this hot man?” She pauses, shifting incrementally closer. “He has a mustache,” she says, scandalized. Maybe a little enamored.
The dream
“You’re looking at me like I’ve just pulled a fully decorated tree out of my arse,” he says with a wicked smile. “Is that . . .something you can do?” “You may find this shocking, but I’ve never attempted that particular parlor trick.”
Lmfao
I don’t need another chance to force someone to love me.
