She scurried toward him and January threw her arms around his waist as she let her emotions get the better of her. January hadn’t even noticed the two paper cups he held in his grasp as she fell into him.
“Oh my gosh, Deckard. It’s all gone. Everything. And it’s all my fault.”
“What? Were you robbed, January?” Deckard asked, now on high alert as he looked around her yard.
Confused, she looked up at him and tilted her head with furrowed brows. “No. Christmas. It’s all gone.”
Deckard’s shoulders sagged in relief that she hadn’t been robbed. His arm loosely wrapped around January’s shoulders as he tried to guide her back into the house, the coffee cups still in his hands.
“Let’s get you inside, okay? You’re going to catch a cold out here with no pants.”
“Deckard, I’m serious.” She tried to pull herself away from him, but he tightened his arms protectively.
“So am I, January. Your neighbors are starting to watch. Let me get you inside and we can talk, okay?”
January looked around and noticed that everyone had started filing out of their houses and were taking in her display. She knew she had been yelling frantically, but she was completely freaked out.
“And as much as I would hate it, let’s get some pants on you.”
She let him guide her inside the house, setting their cups on the kitchen island as they passed. Deckard followed her into her bedroom and she watched him look around the gray and cream room as she tugged on a pair of boxer shorts.
“Am I supposed to feel better with you wearing another man’s boxers?”
January wanted to laugh, but her mind was too preoccupied wondering what was going on to care.
“Sorry, they’re comfortable to sleep in. Can we figure out what the hell is going on before I have another panic attack, please?”
He nodded as he dutifully followed her from the bedroom into the living room, where he watched her pace back and forth along her rug.
She was murmuring to herself about the Christmas tree and the ornament and how someone was playing a cruel joke on her.
“Want to explain to me what’s going on before you wear a hole in your rug?” he suggested as he placed both of his hands on her shoulders. The touch was soft, placating, like he was trying to keep her from running away.
“I’m not crazy, Deckard.”
“I know you’re not, sweetheart. But you’re freaking out right now and I want to understand why.”
“It’s gone. Christmas. I wished it away last night and it happened.”
“Christmas?”
“Yes!” she shouted, trying to get him to understand.
“I don’t know what Christmas is? Is it a pet, like a cat? Did it get loose?”
“No! Gah!” she cried out, commencing her pacing.
“Christmas is a holiday that happens on December twenty-fifth. It’s a religious holiday and a commercial one. There are presents, and parades, and Santa, and I ruined it all!” January felt like she was growing more hysterical as every second lapsed, and Deckard stared at her in confusion.
“Okay, let’s have a seat and you can tell me more about it. It sounds like the winter solstice festival the town has in a few days.”
He ushered her to the couch and she willingly sat with his help. January was afraid that she was losing her mind, or had already lost it.
“Deckard,” she asked, licking her now dry lips, “How did we meet?”
“You don’t remember?”
“Obviously, I’m second-guessing everything,” January snarled.