Bad Ideas (First & Forever 4)

Okay, so this was about to get embarrassing. Here I was, trying to impress my man, and I couldn’t even lift a plastic pot.

I made a third attempt and really put everything I had into it.

Nope.

Theo came back outside and stood beside me, and I admitted, “I can’t lift it. Not even a little.”

He grinned at me and teased, “You skipped one morning at the gym, and look what happened.”

I chuckled at that and said, “How much could that possibly weigh?”

Theo stuck his head into the back of the car to assess the container, then looked up something online. After he did some mental calculations, he muttered, “Oops.”

“What?”

“I estimated the volume of that pot, multiplied by the average weight of one cubic foot of soil, which I just looked up, and it turns out that’s—”

“Fucking heavy.”

“—over eight hundred pounds.”

“Are you serious?”

Theo bent over to look underneath the car. “That actually explains why it’s riding so low.” He straightened up and turned to me with a frown. “I’m sorry, I didn’t stop to think about this. I’ve never bought anything that big, and it didn’t occur to me to do the math. If this ends up breaking your car, I’ll pay to fix it.”

“I’m not worried about that. I just don’t know how we’re going to get it out of there.”

“If we go back to the nursery, I’m sure they’ll help us. They really should have tried harder to talk us out of bringing it home this way, but as you might have noticed, that place is a little kooky. That’s actually what I like about it.”

“I won’t have time to go back today, since I need to get to work pretty soon. Probably not tomorrow, either. Will the tree be okay?”

“Yeah, it should be fine. The soil was damp, and the plastic will keep it from drying out too fast. Also, the tree trunk isn’t resting against the lip of the car, so it’s not getting damaged in any way.” He grinned and added, “Plus, it’s not like anyone can steal it.”

“True.”

“How are you going to lock up your car, though?”

“Nobody wants to steal this old thing.”

Theo chewed his lower lip before saying, “I think you’ll need more than just the red ribbon after dark, since it’s sticking out so far from the back of your car. Hang on a minute.”

He ran back inside while I stood there failing to come up with ways to de-pine my Honda. When he returned, he was holding the colorful strands of LED lights we’d just bought, along with some batteries. He’d also sorted out the craft supplies for our patient, which he’d transferred to a canvas tote bag.

We lit up the light strands and wrapped the tree with them, and then we both stepped back to admire our handiwork. He said, “It’s pretty,” as he put his arm around me.

“It is, and this is going to be fine. If we have to, we can sit right here on the sidewalk and open presents on Christmas morning, under our sideways tree.” He laughed at that, and I pulled him into a kiss.

Chapter 9

Over a week and a half later, the tree was still stuck in my car. I’d eventually made it back to the nursery, and they somehow couldn’t figure out how to extract it with the forklift. Theo had called them kooky, but a better description for the people who worked at that nursery might have been stoned off their asses.

Fortunately, the spruce was doing just fine. I’d cut a hole in the top of the pot so we could water it, and Theo gave the tree frequent check-ups and told me it seemed no worse for wear.

Just like every night for the past couple of weeks, I drove straight to Theo’s house after work, enjoying the fresh scent of pine. It was like the extreme version of those little tree-shaped air fresheners they sold at the gas station.

And also, just like every other night, Theo was sitting on the front steps waiting for me. It was cool and foggy, so he was wrapped in a blanket, and he stood up and smiled as soon as he saw me.

I parked in his driveway and grabbed my backpack, along with a present I’d bought him before work. As soon as I reached him, he draped his arms and the blanket around me. Then he kissed me before asking, “Did Brucey the Sprucey have a baby?” We’d given the tree a name one night when we were feeling silly.

I handed him the foot-high potted pine, which was lit up with colored Christmas lights. “He did, and he says we should keep Brucey, Junior in your bedroom.”

“Thank you. I have a present of sorts for you, too.” He stuck something in my hand, then shifted the mini tree and caught the blanket before it slipped off his shoulders. I glanced at the pair of keys in my hand, which were on a Forty-Niners key fob. I must have looked surprised, because he murmured, “I’m just being practical. You spend every night here. This way I can wait for you in bed, which I’ve always avoided because I know I’ll fall asleep.”