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Elliot blinks at me. “Toopiney?Gerard, it’s apinetree.”

“Exactly!” I nod emphatically. “It should smell like Christmas, not a car air freshener.”

He presses his lips together, clearly fighting back a smile. “Right. Of course. My mistake.”

We keep walking, and I point out the flaws in each tree we pass while Elliot gamely tries to follow my logic.

“This one’s too sparse.”

“This one leans to the left.”

“This one has a weird kink in the trunk, see?”

Finally, Elliot throws up his hands in exasperation. “Gerard, we’re nearly out of trees. Are you sure you’re not just being picky?”

I grin at him, undeterred by his annoyance. “Fret not, babe. When I see it, I’ll know.”

And sure enough, I do. A magnificent Fraser fir stands proud and tall at the back of the lot. It’s the perfect height, a few inches taller than me, and completely symmetrical. It’s a storybook illustration brought to life.

I face Elliot, my eyes wide with excitement. “Elliot, look! It’s perfect!”

He follows my gaze and takes in the majestic tree. I can see the moment it clicks for him, the realization that, yes, I’m right, this is the one.

“Okay, I’ll admit it. That is a damn fine Christmas tree, Gerard.”

I beam at him, my chest puffing up with pride. “See? I told you I’d know it when I saw it.”

Elliot rolls his eyes. “Yes, yes, you’re the Christmas tree whisperer. Congratulations.”

I grin at his sarcasm. I love it when I can get Elliot to admit I’m right about something, especially concerning matters of the heart and holiday cheer.

I flag down one of the college guys working here, a tall dude with shaggy blond hair and a neon green vest. “Hey, dude, I want this one! The most perfect tree in all the land!”

The guy’s eyes ping-pong between me and the tree. A smile spreads across his face. “Excellent choice, bro. That’s one of our finest firs.”

I nod, bouncing on the balls of my feet in excitement. “It sure is! So how much do I owe you for this beauty?”

The guy’s grin widens, and he leans in like he’s about to share a secret. “Two-fifty.”

My jaw drops open, and I hear Elliot make a choking sound beside me. “Two-fifty?! For a tree?!”

The guy shrugs, unfazed by my shock. “It’s a premium tree, dude. Hand-selected from our finest stock. Plus, we’re getting close to Christmas. The prices are increasing.”

I shake my head, appalled at the sheer audacity of corporate greed. “But what about the spirit of Christmas? The joy of giving? The season of goodwill toward men and all that jazz?”

Elliot snorts beside me, and I swat his butt, making him yelp. The guy laughs and raises his hands in a “what can you do?” gesture.

“Sorry, bro, but the spirit of Christmas doesn’t pay my tuition. Two-fifty is the price—take it or leave it.”

I’m about to argue and see if I can haggle it down to a more reasonable amount when Elliot steps forward, pulling out his wallet. He hands his credit card to the guy as if spending all that money on a Christmas tree is no big deal for him. But I know that probably cost him his last five paychecks.

The dude glances at the name on the card and then back at Elliot. “Alright, Mr. Montgomery, I’ll go run this and get you a receipt. You two hang tight; I’ll be right back.”

He saunters off toward the little hut that serves as the lot’s office, leaving me gaping at Elliot in disbelief. “Elliot, are you mad? That’s way too much for a tree! I could’ve talked him down. You didn’t have to do that.”

Elliot shrugs. “It’s not a big deal, Gerard. Consider it my Christmas gift to the team for letting me move into the Hockey House.”

I stare at him, my heart swelling in my chest until it might burst. This man, this incredible, selfless, generous man, never ceases to amaze me. Here he is, dropping a small fortune on a Christmas tree, not for himself, but for the team. For the guys who welcomed him into their home and their family with open arms.