Page 48 of Take Me Home

The stepmom gave a pained smile. “He’s allergic? That’s why we had the artificial tree.”

Hazel cast a worried glance Ash’s way, brows knitted together, but she quickly returned to fidgeting with the needles. “I—” She shook her head, a flush climbing up her neck.

Footsteps came from behind Ash on the porch, and he had to shuffle out of the way to let Channel 2’s Dan Elliot into his own living room.

“Whoa.” Dan let out a low whistle. “Where’d this come from?”

Hazel tried block him. “I didn’t know—”

He bent in and breathed deeply. “Love that Christmas tree smell.”

It was almost comical how quickly he sneezed.

“We always had a real tree,” Hazel said quietly. Ash wasn’t sure to whom specifically she was saying this since he was closest and barely heard her. Louder, she said, “Every year, we went to the lot and picked one out. It was, like, the one thing we did.”

Her father leaned back to take the whole tree in. He sniffled. “This is a great tree.”

“But you’re allergic to it.”

He shrugged and shook his head, fixed on the tree rather than looking at his daughter. Hazel tilted her head and inched closer, trying to make him see her. He just kept looking up at the tree and sniffling, like he was waiting for a teleprompter to give him his lines.

“Dad.”

“You always loved a real tree. I used to take extra allergy medicine.”

Hazel pressed her lips into a tight line. Ash could see her mind at work, calculating. “Okay. Fine. We’ll take it back.” She leaned the tree back toward Ash, and he braced to catch it, but her father grabbed it.

“No. It’s a nice tree. We’ll keep—” A sneeze cut off his sentence.

“God,” Hazel muttered.

“You always wanted a tree in your room,” her father said. Confusion crossed his face briefly as he took Ash in for the first time.

“I got it forthem,” she said, tilting her chin at the family hovering around the dining table. “For all of you.”

“It’s so thoughtful,” the stepmother chimed in.

Her father pulled at the tree. “We’ll keep it. This is what allergy medicine is for.”

She yanked the tree back. “That’s stupid. Your eyes are watering. You’re starting to wheeze.”

He was, a little, and after attempting to deny it again, he told her to wait while he went to take a dose. Ash knew, though, that as soon as her father was gone, she would haul that tree out of the house by herself if she had to. Her eyes glittered under the crystal chandelier.

“Would your family want it?” she asked, not meeting his eyes.

“Too tall.”

The stepfamily were still watching from the table, uncertain. Her father would be back soon.

“Let’s just put it in your room,” he suggested gently.

“Fine.” She started dragging it before he could pick up his end, grunting with the effort.

To his credit, her father came back with a tree stand and handed it to Ash from the doorway. “I’m Dan, by the way,” he said, holding up a used handkerchief as an explanation for not offering his hand. His teeth were blindingly white and straight, and from only a few feet away rather than on Ash’s TV at home, he could make out subtle makeup in the creases by his eyes. “You’re a friend of Hazel’s?”

“Asher,” he blurted. “Not Asher, actually. That’s what she calls me. Just Ash.” Then, for reasons unknown, he added, “Campbell.”

“Glad to meet you,” Dan said. No sign of recognition. It shouldn’t have bothered Ash. He knew Hazel and her dad weren’t close, and if she ever did mention Ash, she probably would have painted him as annoying at best. But he couldn’t ignore the absolute gulf between his long-standing feelings for her, so poorly contained his whole family practically salivated at the sight of her, and her long-standing dismissal.