Realizing that he’d overstepped, he held up both hands. “Sorry. I guess this sitting around is really starting to get to me. I think I’ve read every magazine on the coffee table at least twice.”
“Then I can put you to work.” Her eyes lit up as though she’d come up with the perfect answer.
He was intrigued. He’d love to spend some productive time with Mae. Perhaps his abundance of enthusiasm should bother him, but he chose to ignore the telling sign. “What do you have in mind?”
“I’ll be right back.” She took off upstairs.
Gizmo got up from where he’d been napping on the couch. When he yawned, he let out a little squeak. Jackson found himself smiling. Gizmo walked over to him. Jackson petted him and scratched behind his ears.
“You’re not so bad. In fact, you’re kind of cute.”
“Arff!”
Jackson couldn’t help but laugh. “You know, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you knew what I was saying.”
“Arff! Arff!”
“Sounds like you two are having quite a conversation,” Mae said as she descended the stairs with her hands full of bags.
“And what is all of that?” He had a feeling he didn’t want to know, but the reporter in him needed the answer.
“This is what we’re going to do this evening. And if you do a good job, I’ll let you roast some marshmallows over the fire tonight.”
He couldn’t help but laugh again. He tried to remember the last time he’d laughed this much and failed. Was there such a time?
He didn’t think so, as June had been more reserved. She was quiet in public. She would say that it was the way she was raised, but he knew the truth—she was painfully shy. Still, she hadn’t let it stop her as a fashion model. Each day she did what was expected of her. And although it took a lot out of her to get in front of the cameras, she’d pasted on a smile and never missed a photo shoot.
But there had been times when she’d let her hair down and unwind when they were in bed. Then she’d been all his. And there had been nothing shy about her then. He could make her laugh, moan and make all sorts of unladylike sounds—
Jackson squelched the memories. He wanted to be present in this moment. He took in Mae’s smile. It lit up her face and made her eyes sparkle, but it was more than that. How did he say it? It was like when she smiled the world was brighter. It filled him with a warmth, and he never wanted to let that feeling go. It healed the cracks in his broken heart, making him feel whole again.
“Can you make your way over here?” she asked as she set the bags down in front of the Christmas tree.
And then he put it all together. He shook his head. “I don’t do Christmas trees.”
Her eyes widened. “You don’t celebrate Christmas?”
“No. Not that. I celebrate it—or I used to. But I never did the decorating.” The truth was, with busy work schedules that often conflicted, neither he nor June were home long enough to worry about it. Instead, June would hire professionals to come in and decorate their tree. It was always different each year. Different color. Different theme.
Mae stood there with a puzzled look on her face. “Why wouldn’t you decorate your tree? Doesn’t it look rather sad and pathetic without ornaments?”
“It had ornaments. I just didn’t put them on.”
“Why not?”
“There wasn’t enough time.” That seemed to be the theme of his life. There were so many things that had been skipped over or missed because there wasn’t enough time. And now time had run out for him and June.
“You have to make time for the important things in life. My father used to always put off things and then he died.” There was a slight pause, but before Jackson could say a word, she continued. “I don’t want to miss the good things in life because I’m too busy. Life is too short.”
It was as though she understood exactly what he’d been through, but that was impossible. He kept his private life private. “I’m glad you’re taking advantage of life. You’re right, it is too short.”
She reached into the bag and pulled out a box of ornaments. She proceeded to attach a hook and hang it on the tree. “See. Nothing to it. Come on. Decorate it with me. I already strung the lights the other night.”
But it was more than the fact that he
didn’t have experience at trimming a Christmas tree—everything about the season would remind him of June. It would be a painful reminder of all that he’d lost. Christmastime was the time of year June loved the most. It was when she was at her best—when they had been at their best.
“Jackson?” Mae’s voice jerked him from his thoughts.