Chapter 9

9

A lyssa looked up from the balsam fir she was tagging, surprised to see Denise walking towards her. Denise’s blonde hair shimmered in the sunlight, giving her an unexpected glamour, despite her casual attire of jeans and a stylish black winter coat.

“What are you doing here?” Alyssa asked, glancing around the tree farm. It was the middle of the day and anyone could see Denise. Alyssa knew that Denise was afraid of being recognized, given her celebrity status.

Denise smirked, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Hello to you too.”

Alyssa couldn’t help but smile. Over the past few weeks, they’d managed to slowly build something that almost felt like friendship. Alyssa didn’t see Denise more than once or twice a week, usually when Denise came up to the tree farm in the evenings or stopped by Alyssa’s cabin to update her on the progress with planning the Christmas event. But Alyssa hadn’t seen that diva side of Denise since those first few days after she’d arrived.

“Sorry, I just wasn’t expecting to see you here in broad daylight,” Alyssa said. “Is everything okay?”

Denise nodded, stuffing her hands into her pockets. “Everything’s fine. I’ve actually been seen around town and the world hasn’t ended.”

Alyssa’s eyes widened in mock disbelief. “No one recognized you?” She wiped her hands on her jeans, unable to hide her grin. “How’s your ego?”

Denise’s lips curled into a playful smirk, her eyes gleaming with a challenge. “My ego is just fine, thank you,” she said. “It’s refreshing to walk around without being swarmed by paparazzi or fans asking for autographs.”

The two women stood amidst the pine trees, the tension that had once clouded their interactions now dissipated into a comfortable banter. Alyssa found herself enjoying these lighter moments with Denise, moments that seemed to come more frequently as the days passed.

“Anyway,” Denise said. “I just wanted to know when you were planning on decorating. I thought I could help.”

Alyssa brushed pine needles from her sleeve, considering Denise’s question. “I usually start the weekend after Thanksgiving. It’s our last quiet period before the Christmas rush hits.”

“What about Thanksgiving itself?” Denise’s voice carried a note of curiosity. “Any plans?”

Alyssa shrugged. “Not really. I used to spend it at the farmhouse with Wayne.” The memory of last year’s dinner flashed through her mind. It had been Wayne, her, and a guy who’d been working at the tree farm for just two weeks and didn’t want to make the journey home when the weather had been so bad.

Alyssa wondered when it would end. She’d thought she’d handled herself well in the almost two months since Wayne had passed away, but every so often a memory would hit her along with another wave of grief. There’d be no more days like that, sharing cooking duties between the three of them, sipping on a beer while they watched football.

Denise’s brow furrowed. “Your parents have passed too?”

Alyssa blinked, pushing away those thoughts. “No. They live about a half hour away.”

Denise stared at her, confusion evident in those striking blue eyes. The silence stretched between them, and Alyssa’s chest tightened as she met Denise’s gaze.

“They told me not to come home until I’d straightened myself up,” Alyssa said. “And that was thirteen years ago.”

Denise visibly swallowed. She took a step forward, as if to close the distance between them. “They what?”

Alyssa turned her attention back to the tree in front of her as she spoke. “My mom called me the year after I left home. She told me they were saying a prayer for me at Thanksgiving dinner, that they still loved me, but that I couldn’t come home until I’d, well, until I wasn’t gay anymore.” The words came out in a rush, like a confession she’d been holding back for years. She traced her finger along a branch, not trusting herself to meet Denise’s gaze.

“Alyssa...” Denise’s voice was soft, almost pained. “I’m so sorry.”

Alyssa shook her head, forcing a smile. “Don’t be. My parents made their choice and I made mine. They have their lives and I have mine, and we’re all doing just fine.” She inhaled the crisp, pine-scented air, feeling the familiar sting of loss. She’d built a good life for herself, but there were still moments when the ache of her family’s rejection resurfaced.

Denise inhaled a deep breath. “I wish that hadn’t happened to you.”

Alyssa’s gaze flickered to Denise, seeing the hurt in her eyes. “They’re extremely religious. They thought it was for my own good. That I was making a choice that would damn me to hell, and they didn’t want to enable that.” She paused, the pain of her parents’ rejection still fresh even after all these years. “I guess, I thought they’d come around eventually, but…” She exhaled, her breath coming out in a cloud of smoke. “They never did.”

“Come to the farmhouse tomorrow.” Denise’s words cut through the heavy silence. “For Thanksgiving dinner.”

Alyssa’s hands stilled on the tree branch. Three weeks ago, they’d been at each other’s throats, Denise threatening legal action and throwing accusations. Now here she was, inviting Alyssa to spend Thanksgiving with her. And she wasn’t just anyone - this was Denise Adams, Oscar winning actress.

Usually when they talked, Alyssa forgot about Denise’s celebrity status within a few minutes. Something about the way Denise carried herself here in Stony Creek - more relaxed, more real - made it easy to forget. But right now, with this invitation hanging between them, Alyssa was very aware of who Denise was.

“I mean, there’s no point in both of us being alone tomorrow.” Denise shrugged, her casual tone belying the weight of the offer. “And since we’re keeping my father’s traditions alive, why not this one too?”

The mention of Wayne, coupled with the simple logic of Denise’s words, pushed away Alyssa’s hesitation. She nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Okay. Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Perfect,” Denise said with a smile.

“What time should I come over?” Alyssa asked as she moved to tag the next tree. The sharp scent of fresh-cut pine filled the air.

“How about two? That gives me time to prep everything.”

Alyssa glanced sideways at Denise. “So... you cook?”

Denise’s perfectly shaped eyebrows shot up. “You don’t think I can cook? Why would I invite you over if I couldn’t cook?”

“No, I just-” Alyssa fumbled ribbons in her hand.

“You just assumed I have a personal chef who handles all my culinary needs? That I’m some helpless Hollywood actress who can’t even fry an egg?”

Heat crept up Alyssa’s neck. “That’s not what I-”

“That I survive solely on green juice and kale smoothies prepared by my army of domestic staff?” Denise’s eyes sparkled with mischief.

“Now you’re just being ridiculous.” Alyssa couldn’t help but laugh.

“I’ll have you know...”

“It’s a normal assumption to make!” Alyssa folded her arms across her chest. “But I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have judged you like that.”

Denise nodded slowly, like she was deciding whether or not to forgive her. She said in the most deadpan voice, “I actually do have a personal chef at home.”

Alyssa swatted Denise’s arm. “You’re unbelievable!”

Alyssa shook her head, a soft smile playing on her lips. “You’re distracting me, you know that?” She glanced at Denise, who stood there with an amused expression. “Either help me tag these trees or leave. Your choice.”

Denise raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in her eyes. “Is that an order?”

“It’s a request,” Alyssa corrected, handing her a bundle of red ribbons. “Here, take these. We need to mark the ones that are ready for sale.”

“And how do I know which ones are ready?”

Alyssa pointed to the trees around them. “Look for the ones that are full, with no gaps in the branches. They should be around six to eight feet tall. If you’re not sure, just ask.”

Denise nodded, her eyes scanning the rows of evergreens. “Alright.”

Alyssa watched as Denise began to inspect the trees, her fingers tracing the needles gently. There was something endearing about seeing Denise, the Hollywood star, carefully examining each tree with a focused determination. A warmth spread through Alyssa, a sense of contentment she hadn’t felt in a long time.

Alyssa turned her attention back to her own row of trees, her hands working efficiently as she tagged each one. But her mind was elsewhere, already looking forward to the next day, to spending more time with Denise. There was something about her presence, about the way they were slowly opening up to each other, that made Alyssa feel hopeful that they could work this out between them, and that the ugliness of those first few days were well in the past now.