Then a big part of
the reason for his change walked into the shop, with another group of volunteer
decorators.
Holly.
Maurice kept watch on
her as she opened the boxes of new decorations he had kept hidden until her arrival.
He perched on the branches of the tree just below her eye level, anxious for some
flicker of reaction. Other than delight in the golden spun glass stars, delicate
as thistledown, she showed no hint of recognition.
Last night in her
dreams, they had decorated a tree using those ornaments. Maurice had hoped something
would remain from her dream, to come into the light of day and brush against her
conscious thoughts. He consoled himself that he would have time with her on Christmas
Eve day, when he was full-size, an ordinary man. When she could see him. He planned
to meet Holly at the library, ask her to walk with him through Neighborlee and look
at the decorations, and sit beside her for Christmas Eve dinner.
For now, though, all he
could do was watch her and brush against her fingers when she reached up to hang
the ornaments. Their ornaments, from their shared tree, even if only a dream tree.
At least Holly had been
happy last night, so excited about Christmas and the decorating party at Divine's.
She had only mentioned once that she wished he could come to the party. He thought
maybe there had been a tear in one eye, while they sang songs. He told her about
his cousin Angeloria, who was allergic to holly and mistletoe, thanks to being present
when Charles Dickens wrote Scrooge's infamous line, hoping Christmas well-wishers
died with a stake of holly through their hearts.
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