BUBBLE LIGHTS AND PEANUT BUTTER
Winn rode in silence in the passenger seat of Taylor's truck. She was so exhausted, so emotionally drained. The honest truth was, she would have rather spent this day at work. She wanted to be angry at Isaac but she knew she was really only angry with herself. She allowed herself to trust someone that couldn't be trusted. She'd been warned and she'd ignored all the warnings. Instead, she'd opened up to him, told him personal things about herself and even did some things that she wouldn't have otherwise allowed herself to do. And then to just be slapped in the face--just completely slapped in the face.
And then she thought about it. She obviously wasn't enough for Isaac. Not like he claimed that he wanted her to be. Was this because she didn't have sex with him? Were his needs that severe that he just had to go out and find it on his own, regardless of the weekend they'd spent together? Was temporarily pulling her out of her comfort zone not enough for him?
Then she glanced over at Taylor, who drove in silence, concentrating on the road in front of him. She had never been so grateful for a person in her entire life. But had she made their relationship awkward when she said she loved him? It seemed to catch him off guard, but did he understand that she loved him as a friend? Maybe she shouldn't have phrased it as bluntly as she did. God, why did she let her emotions take her over the way she did? That was what got her in the mess she was in with Isaac.
Winn sighed and looked at Taylor. "Tay, look...about what I said earlier. About how I said I lo--"
"It's okay," he said, cutting her off quickly. "I get it. It's, uh, it's cool. I, uh, I care about you, too."
"I just--I just wanted you to understand--"
"It's okay," he said again. "I do understand. Totally not a problem. Just, uh, glad I can be there for you."
"Me, too," she said quietly. Then she turned back to the window. God, why couldn't this day just be over already?
After a moment, Taylor's voice cut through the silence. "Winn? I, um, you're, uh...um, you're the best friend I've ever had."
She turned her head to look at him. "That's, uh, that's a pretty bold statement..."
"Well, it's true. And--and I don't want you to feel weird or awkward about anything because I can almost guarantee that however you feel about our friendship that, uh, I, um, I feel the same way. Okay?"
"Tay..." She said quietly. She wanted to cry, except that she already felt so cried out. "I just wanted to clarify because I know opposite-sex friendships can be so tricky--"
"They are," he agreed. "But ours isn't. I've never bonded with anyone like I've bonded with you. I just want you to know that I'll always be there. No matter what."
"Thank you," she said in nearly a whisper. "So will I." Then she scoffed. "You're the only one who knows about my planetarium night light. I'd like to keep it that way."
Taylor chuckled. "Deal."
She paused for a second as she fidgeted with her fingers. "Did you know that my fiancée didn't even know about it?"
He jerked his head over at her and then back at the road. "What? How? Didn't you live together?"
"Yeah. But he worked nights and I kept it hidden. So I got it out at night while he was at work. I was afraid he might think it was stupid and it would turn him off. Who knew that it was me who ultimately turned him off?"
"Winn," Taylor scolded. "That shouldn't--I mean, your interests are who you are. That shouldn't--you shouldn't have to hide. Anything."
"Well, it turned out it didn't matter either way, so..."
"Is that--does any of that have anything to do with what happened today?"
Winn looked over at Taylor as he pulled into her driveway. She was silent for a moment as he stopped and turned off the ignition. "I shouldn't have told him," she said.
Taylor sat back in his seat. "Told who what?"
"Ike. I told him everything. About what my fiancée did. About why I haven't dated or been with a man or--I just shouldn't have told him anything about me. And now I feel like--like it just all comes rushing back and--I think he slept with that girl because I didn't sleep with him...I just--I'm sorry, that was too much information."
Taylor didn't say anything. She didn't really expect him to, she was just randomly spouting off. She didn't even know why she was saying what she was saying at the moment.
"Well, I love your planetarium," he said suddenly. "I don't want you to hide it from me. Or anything else, for that matter. I promise you, there is nothing you could possibly do to out-nerd me."
Finally, Winn laughed. It felt good to smile.
******************
In the house, Winn took the dishes that Diana had sent with them and put them in the refrigerator. She started a pot of coffee and retreated into her bedroom to change clothes. She'd waited all year to put on these pajamas and she knew Taylor would laugh at her, but she didn't care. She needed something stupid and silly to pull her out of the funk she'd found herself in.
When she retreated from the bedroom in her flannel pants and the large turkey on her chest, Taylor took one look at her and started to laugh. She smiled and curtsied. "Ta-da!"
"What the hell is that?" He said. "I am so jealous right now. I always wanted a huge...turkey on my shirt."
"Eat your heart out," she joked.
He shook his head at her. "You're absolutely insane, do you know that? Where do you find stuff like that?"
"You order it. You wouldn't believe what you can find online, it's great! They had slippers, too, but I thought I'd stop while I was ahead." She bent over and lifted her pants leg. "So I got the socks."
As he looked at the brown turkeys on her feet, he shook his head. "You wait. Next year, I will out-turkey you to the point where you'll want to run home crying to your mommy."
Then her face grew serious. "Maybe next year I can plan to go home for Thanksgiving."
"Maybe next year I'll join you," he retorted.
She took a breath as she crossed the living room and to the closet. "Well, we'll see how this coming year plays out. Hopefully I can get this office turned around."
As she started pulling boxes out of the living room closet, Taylor's cell phone rang. She tried not to listen as he answered, but she had no choice when he said, "Winn? Uh, my mom wants to talk to you."
Winn's heart sank. She had no idea what to expect and she turned around and narrowed her eyes at Taylor in confusion. He simply shrugged his shoulders and extended his phone to her.
Winn got on the phone and started to speak immediately. "Hi, Mrs. Hanson, I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to say it sooner, but thank you so much for having me today. Dinner was delicious and--"
Diana cut her off. "I just wanted to tell you that it was an honor to meet you today and that I'm sorry that it was under the circumstances it was under. I'm sorry that you had to miss a holiday with your family but I'm glad you came to spend it with us. I know you feel like you imposed today, but the truth is, you were sort of a breath of fresh air and I'm sorry that you and I didn't get to spend more time together. You are always welcome in my home. Okay?"
Winn was stunned. She was completely surprised, she swore that she made a horrible first impression, given the drama with Isaac. "Um, well, uh, thank you. I appreciate that very much. Um, thank you so much for having me..."
"Think nothing of it. Next time, though, make some of those dishes I heard you and Tay talking about at dinner. They sounded delicious."
Winn smiled. "Uh, yeah. Definitely. Sure thing."
After a moment, Winn handed the phone back to Taylor, still a little stunned. Taylor smiled at her after hanging up the phone. "My family loves you. You impressed them. And to be honest, they got a bit of a kick out of your little interrogation today."
"Don't remind me," she lamented as she continued to pull boxes out of the closet. "I'm so ashamed of myself for that."
"Well I thought it was hilarious."
She stood straight and smiled in thought. "Ike's face was pretty priceless, wasn't it?"
Taylor chuckled. "I'm not sure anyone's ever actually called him on his shit before."
"Well it's high time someone did." Then she sighed as she looked around. "Anyway, I don't want to talk about it anymore. I think this is it. And I think the coffee is ready. I wanted a real tree, but...this fake one will have to do this year."
"Nobody gets real trees anymore," Taylor said.
"I know. Sad, isn't it?"
"That's what they make pine-scented room spray for."
"It's not the same."
"Fake trees are greener."
"Only because the people complaining of that let their real trees dry out and die."
"Easy, killer."
Winn smirked at him. "I just hate putting these fake ones together, that's all."
"Lucky for you, I'm pretty decent at it. Go and round up some coffee and I'll get started in here."
From the kitchen, Winn poured coffee and watched Taylor in the living room as he stacked her Christmas boxes out of the way and began pulling the fake branches out of her Christmas tree box. The tree wasn't terribly big or terribly thick. Just a cheapie six-foot thing. Tall enough so that it wouldn't take so much effort for her to decorate the top. When you lived alone, you had to plan your purchases according to such things.
As she watched him, she started to think about how surreal the entire situation was. She never really thought long and hard about it until right that second. Taylor was in her cheap, modest house, putting together her cheap, modest tree, and was about to drink her cheap, modest coffee from a mug she bought for fifty cents at a yard sale, from a coffee pot she'd bought at a cheap general store. She didn't live much different than most people she knew on her own pay scale. However, Taylor was a millionaire. A famous millionaire, who had easy access to all the best things that life had to offer. And, surprisingly, Winn often forgot about that. He never said a word about her busted up walkway or the outdated recliner that sat in the corner of her living room or the ratty strip of wood that held her poorly-operating sliding glass door closed. She decided that he either chose not to comment or didn't even think about it himself. She hoped for the latter, but she would probably never know.
It didn't take him long to have half the tree up. He wasn't kidding about being decent at the task. If it were left up to her, she would still be struggling with the bottom layer of branches. Once the tree was up, her holiday was jolly again. Assembling and lighting were always the worst parts.
"So it's not pre-lit?" Taylor observed, nearly breathless.
"No," she said as she sat herself and their coffee mugs down on the coffee table. "I like to have options. I might want white lights one year, I might want colored the next year."
"Makes sense," he said as he continued to work on the tree. "How are you feeling this year?"
She shrugged as she pulled one of the plastic bins over toward her. "Don't know yet."
As she opened the bin, a smile spread across her face at the contents. She loved her bin full of Christmas music and Christmas movies. Besides the tree, once it was finished, those were her favorite parts of the holiday. She looked up at Taylor as he finished up the top part of the tree. "You really don't think this is stupid? I mean, you could be spending your Thanksgiving night doing something else--"
"Like what?"
She shrugged. "I don't know. It just seems like the Christmas spirit isn't what it used to be anymore. Starting the Christmas season on Thanksgiving night used to be the thing to do and now it seems like everyone says it's too early and turns their noses up at it. Does that make ME the crazy one now?"
"Hey. If I wasn't into this, I wouldn't be here."
"So you came over just to put up my tree."
"No. I came over to spend time with you. And to dig into that pie that Mom sent. And to keep myself out of that damn studio for a night."
"Is that what you do on the holidays? You work?"
"Don't have anything else better to do," he said as he adjusted the branches at the top of the tree.
"So...what, you just go have dinner with your family and then head straight to the studio?"
"Yeah, usually."
"Tay, do you--do you stay single because--because maybe you can't get out of a relationship what you can get out of your music? I mean, I know you claim that it's because you don't have the time, but--is that really true?"
He lowered his arms and he turned to look at her, falling eerily silent. He crossed the room and picked up his coffee mug and sat on the coffee table beside her. "I, uh, guess I never really thought about it that way."
Winn shrugged. "I mean, I could understand it. Your music's always there. She's dynamic, she's diverse, and she never lets you down because you're putting into it what she needs to grow and blossom. She's something you can be proud of all the time. She's beautiful and she's comforting and no matter what happens in your life, anything at all, she will always be there. She'll never leave you, she'll never go away. She's a sure thing. You can trust her."
Taylor looked over at her. "Why are you referring to it like it's a real person?"
"Because it is. Your music is your mistress. You're married to it. No relationship is ever going to compare to the passion you feel when you're composing. That's why you're a workaholic."
Taylor sat there in silence and drank his coffee. She didn't know if she'd struck a nerve or not, but she was confident that she was right. Then he asked her, "So, then, why are you a workaholic?"
She side-glanced at him and smirked. "Because *I* don't have anything else better to do."
He smiled and shook his head. Then he craned his neck and peered into the box she had pulled in front of her. "Whatcha got in there?"
She smiled at him. "The life of the party. All my Christmas music and movies..."
"Oh, really? Let's see how you like to party, then."
Winn giggled as she pulled the box between them and they both began to go through it. "So you prefer all the old-school stuff," Taylor observed as he began looking through the likes of Bing Crosby and Dean Martin.
"Would you expect any different? I don't do modern Christmas. Wait till you see my tree decorations."
"Do you have bubble lights?"
"You stop speaking to my soul right now."
Taylor laughed. "I knew it. This is great."
"Not only do I have bubble lights," she informed him. "But I bought them from a second-hand store. AND they work. Those suckers are legit."
"You're gonna use colored lights this year," he stated matter-of-factly. "Because I'm gonna need to see those things in action. We had bubble lights when Ike and I were really small, but when Zac came along we had to stop using them because he kept trying to take them off the tree. I was always so fascinated by them. They're like tiny little lava lamps."
Winn smiled at him. "So you're going to relive your childhood vicariously through me?"
Taylor shrugged. "Sure, why not?"
"Okay," she nodded as she continued to leaf through her box. Then her smile widened and she felt her face turn red as she pulled a CD out from close to the bottom. She straightened up and showed Taylor his band's own Christmas CD from 1997. "Look what I found."
He chuckled and took it from her hand as he turned it over in his. "Wow..."
"Hey, you start rifling through my stuff and all this fan stuff starts popping up. I'd apologize if I was actually sorry for it..."
He smiled at her and looked back at the CD. "No, it's great, it's...I don't run into situations like this very often. Well, not at all, actually..."
"I've had that since the day it was released."
"It's in great condition."
"Don't let that fool you, that thing's been rode hard and hung out to dry."
Taylor roared in laughter at that and Winn couldn't help but giggle. Then he calmed himself and said, "Hey, hand me a pen."
She looked at him, puzzled. "What?"
"Just hand me a pen. Then you can work on getting out the lights."
"What do you need it for?"
He smiled in objection. "Don't worry about what I'm doing, you just do your thing."
She found a pen on the bar of her kitchen and she reluctantly handed it to him. As he opened the CD and began to write inside the booklet, she tried hard not to be so curious as she searched the boxes for the one the contained the lights. However, the curiosity was killing her.
After a few minutes of her dragging out lights and plugging them in, Taylor closed up the CD and handed it back to her. "Here," he said. "Don't open this until Christmas."
She looked at him in objection. "Well--how am I supposed to listen to it?"
"Download it. I can give you a copy. Or--here, give it back." She handed it back and he opened it up and took the CD out of it and then handed them both back to her. "There. Don't open the case until Christmas."
She smiled. "I'll put it under the tree as a reminder."
"Perfect," he smiled back.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
An hour later, things were feeling just slightly less torturous for Taylor as he and Winn laughed, talked, ate cobbler, and sat side-by-side on the couch with their feet propped on the coffee table and pounds of newspaper in each of their laps. He had to smile at Winn as she studiously pored through each ad with a Sharpie in hand, circling each deal she might be interested in, and stacking each ad booklet in separate piles according to importance and time of store opening.
He was more interested in the comics section, but she was adamant about not opening it up until all the ads had been gone through. "You save the best for last," she advised him. "The comics are the cool-down exercise."
As they leafed through more ads, she finally dropped her pen and she smiled over at Taylor. "Okay. I think I got it. If I plan this accordingly, I'll have time to stop for coffee and maybe breakfast from one store to the next."
"This is crazy."
"But did you see the deal on that camera? That's, like, 65 percent off! The original price on that thing is--"
"Winn, you cannot seriously stand in line at two in the morning at this one store just for a camera. I will BUY you a camera--"
She jerked her head toward him and glared at him. "It has nothing to do with the price," she snapped at him. "I can afford it at full price."
His eyes widened, surprised at her tone. It was obvious that he'd offended her, which wasn't his intent. He had apparently struck a nerve. "I didn't mean--I mean, that's not--I wasn't implying--"
She glared at him a moment longer, searching his face, before she turned back to the ad in her lap and opened it up. "It's about the chase," she said, her voice calming. "It's about the rush of the find, the madness in the store, the feeling of victory after getting your hands on one of only ten of the items available...as long as you're not shopping for toys or electronics, you can pretty much be guaranteed to walk out with what you go in for."
"So...you don't do it for the deals...?"
"Of course I do it for the deals, are you kidding? But I actually LIKE the activity, too."
"No way," he said, shaking his head. "No sale is worth the headache and the lack of sleep and--and you have to work all day tomorrow..." His voice trailed off when he saw her face. She was serious about this. And excited about it. Apparently, this was something she thoroughly looked forward to and he was just sitting there, raining on her parade. So then he sighed. "But if you want a wingman, I'm available..."
Her eyes widened and she tried to hide the smile that crept across her face anyway. "Really?"
He shrugged and leafed through the papers in his lap. "Sure, why not? You'll need someone to hold your coffee, maybe hold your place in line if you forget something...keep you company..."
"Tay," she said matter-of-factly. "You're right by saying it's crazy. Because it IS crazy. I mean, I know I'm a nerd and stuff and I like that you have no problem with that, but you do NOT need to be subjected to the kind of crazy I'm into."
He cut a side glance at her and smirked. "You stood in line for my concerts, didn't you?"
"Yes..."
"I know what kinda crazy you're into," he winked. "I'm cool with it."
Her grin widened and now she was beaming at him. "That would be so great if you came along! I mean, you could drive, you know the area better than I do!"
He nodded. "That, I do..."
And then her smile faded. "But, wait. You'll be driving all night. I mean, I'll want to leave out of here by at least three-thirty in the morning. I'd hate for you to drive all the way home then all the way back and--you know what? Just sleep here."
His eyes widened and his words caught in his throat momentarily. "What?"
"It's only logical. I mean, I know you don't have a change of clothes or anything...if you need to run home or something you can. And the couch doesn't pull out or anything but it's pretty comfy. Or my bed is plenty big--"
"The couch is fine," he said quickly, cutting her off. The couch was perfect. He couldn't sleep anywhere but the couch. He would live on the couch. He would chain himself to the couch...
"Okay," she said, completely oblivious to his sudden apprehension. "I have blankets and pillows and you can throw a sheet over it if you want..."
"Um, I'm not picky..."
"Um, did you need to go home and get a change of clothes or anything? I mean, you can't be comfortable in those jeans..."
"Come on," he said. "I'm a guy. And I'm a musician. I can sleep anywhere in anything. And besides, this is really just a nap if you wanna be honest about it. Pretty sure nobody's going to be looking at my wrinkled shirt..."
"Well, I mean, I feel bad..."
"I invited myself, you shouldn't feel bad."
"Okay..." Then she looked around and up at the tree. "Thanks for helping me decorate my tree. It's much faster with two people. Normally it takes me hours. I have to pick up every little thing and examine it..."
"I noticed," he muttered.
"Hey," she scolded, scowling at him. "Are you sure you don't think my decorations are dorky? They're all second-hand and they're all old, but I love them. I think I was born in the wrong generation."
"I think I'm beginning to agree."
She smiled at him. "So you do think they're dorky."
"I do NOT think they're dorky," he smiled back. "I just think...well, what would Christmas be without THAT much silver tinsel?"
Winn laughed. "Well, what do your trees usually look like, Father Christmas?"
"I don't usually put one up."
"You're kidding..."
He shrugged. "What's the point? Nobody would see it."
"But you would. That's the point." Then she sighed and looked back up at her tree. "You can share mine."
He smiled over at her. "I would love to share yours."
"Any time you need your Christmas tree fix, you know where I live."
"Absolutely."
"Besides, you helped me decorate it. It's half yours anyway."
"I could understand that logic."
Then she looked at him again. "So you wanna clean this stuff up and watch a movie till we get sleepy? That coffee has me kinda wired right now."
He laughed. "This early? It's only just after eight."
"Yeah, and we have to be up at three."
"You're the boss."
She smiled in triumph. "You're right. I am. I'll just keep my ads out that I need--"
"And I'll keep my comics," Taylor interjected with a sly smile.
"--and you can set the rest of the papers aside and I'll be right back. Do you have a movie preference?"
"It's gonna be a Christmas movie, isn't it?"
"Of course it is, what do you take me for?"
*******************
A short while later, Taylor was in heaven. Winn, as innocent and oblivious and as comfortable in their friendship as she was, lay across the couch with her head on a pillow in his lap, reaching her arm out to the coffee table and steadily popping M&M's into her mouth from a candy dish in the shape of a Santa Claus they'd found packed away in one of her boxes. Over her, lay the blanket that was intended for Taylor to sleep under and he smiled as her turkey-covered socks peeked out from underneath it on the other end of the couch. The room was dark, save for the bubble-lit tree and the light from the TV as they settled into a classic version of A Christmas Carol.
"It's a good thing I've seen this a million times," she said casually as she chewed a mouthful of candy-coated chocolate. "Because your huge feet are totally in my way."
"Hey. You're the one who opted to lay there."
"I didn't realize your feet were so damn big."
"You know what they say about big feet," he said, smirking into the dark.
"Yeah," she shot back. "They block your view."
Taylor scoffed and let his head fall back onto the couch. Burn. He loved it, though. "Wow," he replied.
"Do I lie?"
He shook his head. "No. No, you don't." Then he wiggled his sock-covered toes as they rested on the coffee table in front of her. "So what do you want me to do about it?"
"Nothing, I'm comfortable."
He chuckled, amused. "Then stop complaining."
"Keep doing that to my hair," she said, suddenly. "It's helping me relax."
He didn't even realize he was doing anything. He looked down and realized that his fingers happened to be very involved with the mass of red that lay across the pillow in his lap. He swallowed hard and made a desperate attempt to make light of a situation that made his own heart race. "Guess I gotta do something since I'm sure all that chocolate there isn't doing the trick."
"But it's Christmas chocolate," she objected.
He smiled. "Fine. Eat your chocolate."
"You want some?"
"No, thanks."
"Chicken."
"You got any of that?"
"Shut up."
He chuckled and he tugged on her hair a little, which resulted in a slap to his knee, which resulted in the natural reflex of his leg, which then resulted in the near over-turning of the candy bowl, which THEN resulted in, "TAY! STOP!"
He couldn't help but laugh. Hard. "Goddamn, Winn, don't hit me there. Don't you know anything about the human anatomy?"
"Don't pull my hair and I won't have to hit you."
"That chocolate started it, you know. If it wasn't sitting there in the first place, it wouldn't have started this whole chain reaction."
"Of course. It's always the innocent chocolate's fault."
"Chocolate's trouble. Nothing good ever happens when chocolate's involved."
"I beg to differ."
"Enlighten me."
"It's the things that happen in your mouth that make it worth it."
"I'm starting to think we should end this conversation right there..."
Suddenly, she turned over on her back and she rested the Santa Claus candy bowl on her stomach. "Here," she said, taking a couple of the candies between her fingers and putting them into his mouth. He chewed them up automatically. As she repeatedly fed him the chocolate, he knew she would never have any idea what she was doing to him. Never, in a million years. She smiled up at him. "There. Now tell me what's going on in your mouth doesn't make the debauchery of chocolate worth it."
He smiled as he chewed the mouthful of candy. "I stand corrected. I've never been more wrong in my entire life. It's completely worth it." He knew she would never understand his double entendre and he didn't care, either.
She looked up at him for a moment as she seemed to search his face and then she smiled. "You wanna know a secret?"
His heart melted. "I want to know all your secrets," he found himself saying.
Her smile widened. "This isn't my real hair."
It took a second for what she was saying to register. "Do what?"
"Well, I mean, of COURSE it's my real hair. I mean, the color isn't real. I'm not a natural redhead."
Suddenly, he thought about that phrase he was always hearing Isaac say that made his stomach churn and he smiled. Oh, he smiled in sweet, sweet vindictive victory. "Oh, really...does, uh, does anyone else know that?"
"Wouldn't be a secret if they did, would it?"
"Touche," he smiled. "So what's your real color?"
She scowled. "Some dull, plain, mousy brown color. So boring."
"Well I never would have known it wasn't natural if you hadn't told me."
She smiled again. "Well, thank you. Let's just hope I can find someone who's good at keeping it that way."
*******************
Taylor didn't know at exactly what point they had fallen asleep. All he knew was that the movie appeared to have ended long ago and he opened his eyes to a sound-asleep Winn, still on her back, her face turned toward him and her hand resting in the candy bowl. He had to smile. He couldn't help himself. He just knew that candy was melted all over the side of her hand now but he couldn't take his eyes off of her face. He could have watched her sleep all night. He moved a strand of hair from her face. She looked so peaceful and so relaxed. And he wanted to kiss her so bad he couldn't stand it. It wouldn't have mattered if she'd slept through it or not, he just wanted to feel her lips against his. Once. Just once.
God, he was such a sap. Choosing to snap out of it and stay with the program, he gently woke her up and helped her to bed. What he WANTED to do was crawl into bed with her and hold her, turkey t-shirt and all. But god knew he needed to get a grip on himself. And so, resisting his many urges, he tucked her into the bed, helped himself to setting the alarm on her phone, and headed back into the living room.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Winn didn't remember putting herself to bed. However, she did wake up at the rumbling of her stomach and she knew what time of the night it was. Because it always happened around the same time, several nights per week.
She looked at her phone and was right on schedule. Midnight. It was a bad habit and she knew she shouldn't have allowed her biological clock to get used to it, but she couldn't help herself. As she got out of the bed and trudged into the kitchen, she was quiet to retrieve a spoon from her silverware drawer and the jar of peanut butter from her pantry, so as not to wake Taylor. Quietly, she opened up the jar, scooped her spoon inside, and smiled as she put the creamy, peanutty goodness into her mouth.
And then she heard the noise. She paused, her makeshift peanut butter lollipop in her mouth, as she heard the rattling, then the opening and closing of her sliding glass door. She couldn't see the couch from where she was standing, but she prayed that it was Taylor out prowling around.
As he stepped around the still-lit Christmas tree, he froze, apparently shocked to see her awake. She froze in embarrassment at his witnessing her midnight snacking routine and he was obviously startled to see her awake.
"Um..." She said as she pulled the spoon from her mouth and swirled around the peanut butter that was left in her mouth.
He smiled nervously and turned his head behind him. "I, uh, I fixed your door."
She narrowed her eyes at him. "At midnight?"
"It was nothing major, it was just off the track a little was all. Didn't take any effort at all, really."
"At midnight..." she repeated.
"I, uh, I wasn't sleeping," he admitted.
Winn felt bad. "Oh, Tay, I'm sorry. Look, we'll switch places. I don't mind the couch at all and the bed is completely comfortable. It's no big deal, I promise."
He smiled. "No. No, it's fine, really." Then he narrowed his eyes at her. "What--what are YOU doing?"
Her eyes widened. "Pretend you never saw this. That you're, like, dreaming or something."
"Too late. You have peanut butter and I want in."
"Fine," she said as he walked into the kitchen. She scooped her spoon back into the jar and handed it to him. "I'm done with it anyway."
"You sure?" He said, popping it into his mouth without thinking about it.
"Yep. One spoonful usually does it for me."
"Do you do this every night?" His voice was muffled and Winn noticed that talking with his mouth full was a habit he seemed to have...
"Not every night. But I buy peanut butter more often than I do anything else, so...it's a dirty addiction, I know..."
"Could be crack," he shrugged.
"It practically is..."
"What do you chase it with? Milk?"
"Chocolate milk."
He furrowed his brow and he smiled. "That IS a dirty habit."
"Damn," she whispered, defeated. She then proceeded to put together two glasses of chocolate milk and handed one to him. "I'm gonna have to start buying bigger jars of peanut butter."
"And more chocolate syrup," he added. "And whole milk tastes better."
"It's two percent, take it or leave it."
"Fine. Deal. I can compromise."
"Good. This is MY dirty habit. If you want in on this secret, you gotta play by my rules. My peanut butter, my chocolate syrup, my milk."
"No modifications?"
"If it's at your place, you can modify anything you want."
"God, I can't wait to introduce you to my friend Frankenberry."
"I can't wait to lust after those perfectly-chiseled hunks of animated man meat with the 80s high top haircuts."
"Frankenberry will be jealous."
Winn shrugged. "He'll get over it. Especially when I have him in my mouth."
Taylor hung his head and shook it as he laughed. "Jesus Christ, Winn..."
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Finally, when the glasses were empty and they'd had their fair share of peanut butter, Taylor looked at Winn, her eyes heavy once again. As he helped her put away their small mess, he took one look at her, in her messy ponytail and her turkey pajamas, and leaned forward and pecked her cheek quickly. "Go back to sleep," he smiled. "You got a big day in a few hours."
Winn yawned and nodded. "Okay," she said, turning to head back toward her bedroom.
"Goodnight, Tay."
"Night, Winn," he replied.
He flopped himself back down onto the couch and stared up at the dimly-lit ceiling. Why did he do that? Why couldn't he stop himself? She seemed to think nothing of it, but he couldn't get it out of his mind. He couldn't get anything out of his mind, he couldn't forget her facial expressions, everything she said, everything she wore, every time she smiled...he was a wreck. And he knew he was only doing it to himself.
Dammit, something had to give here. Something. Anything. Because it was only getting worse and worse by the minute.
Winn rode in silence in the passenger seat of Taylor's truck. She was so exhausted, so emotionally drained. The honest truth was, she would have rather spent this day at work. She wanted to be angry at Isaac but she knew she was really only angry with herself. She allowed herself to trust someone that couldn't be trusted. She'd been warned and she'd ignored all the warnings. Instead, she'd opened up to him, told him personal things about herself and even did some things that she wouldn't have otherwise allowed herself to do. And then to just be slapped in the face--just completely slapped in the face.
And then she thought about it. She obviously wasn't enough for Isaac. Not like he claimed that he wanted her to be. Was this because she didn't have sex with him? Were his needs that severe that he just had to go out and find it on his own, regardless of the weekend they'd spent together? Was temporarily pulling her out of her comfort zone not enough for him?
Then she glanced over at Taylor, who drove in silence, concentrating on the road in front of him. She had never been so grateful for a person in her entire life. But had she made their relationship awkward when she said she loved him? It seemed to catch him off guard, but did he understand that she loved him as a friend? Maybe she shouldn't have phrased it as bluntly as she did. God, why did she let her emotions take her over the way she did? That was what got her in the mess she was in with Isaac.
Winn sighed and looked at Taylor. "Tay, look...about what I said earlier. About how I said I lo--"
"It's okay," he said, cutting her off quickly. "I get it. It's, uh, it's cool. I, uh, I care about you, too."
"I just--I just wanted you to understand--"
"It's okay," he said again. "I do understand. Totally not a problem. Just, uh, glad I can be there for you."
"Me, too," she said quietly. Then she turned back to the window. God, why couldn't this day just be over already?
After a moment, Taylor's voice cut through the silence. "Winn? I, um, you're, uh...um, you're the best friend I've ever had."
She turned her head to look at him. "That's, uh, that's a pretty bold statement..."
"Well, it's true. And--and I don't want you to feel weird or awkward about anything because I can almost guarantee that however you feel about our friendship that, uh, I, um, I feel the same way. Okay?"
"Tay..." She said quietly. She wanted to cry, except that she already felt so cried out. "I just wanted to clarify because I know opposite-sex friendships can be so tricky--"
"They are," he agreed. "But ours isn't. I've never bonded with anyone like I've bonded with you. I just want you to know that I'll always be there. No matter what."
"Thank you," she said in nearly a whisper. "So will I." Then she scoffed. "You're the only one who knows about my planetarium night light. I'd like to keep it that way."
Taylor chuckled. "Deal."
She paused for a second as she fidgeted with her fingers. "Did you know that my fiancée didn't even know about it?"
He jerked his head over at her and then back at the road. "What? How? Didn't you live together?"
"Yeah. But he worked nights and I kept it hidden. So I got it out at night while he was at work. I was afraid he might think it was stupid and it would turn him off. Who knew that it was me who ultimately turned him off?"
"Winn," Taylor scolded. "That shouldn't--I mean, your interests are who you are. That shouldn't--you shouldn't have to hide. Anything."
"Well, it turned out it didn't matter either way, so..."
"Is that--does any of that have anything to do with what happened today?"
Winn looked over at Taylor as he pulled into her driveway. She was silent for a moment as he stopped and turned off the ignition. "I shouldn't have told him," she said.
Taylor sat back in his seat. "Told who what?"
"Ike. I told him everything. About what my fiancée did. About why I haven't dated or been with a man or--I just shouldn't have told him anything about me. And now I feel like--like it just all comes rushing back and--I think he slept with that girl because I didn't sleep with him...I just--I'm sorry, that was too much information."
Taylor didn't say anything. She didn't really expect him to, she was just randomly spouting off. She didn't even know why she was saying what she was saying at the moment.
"Well, I love your planetarium," he said suddenly. "I don't want you to hide it from me. Or anything else, for that matter. I promise you, there is nothing you could possibly do to out-nerd me."
Finally, Winn laughed. It felt good to smile.
******************
In the house, Winn took the dishes that Diana had sent with them and put them in the refrigerator. She started a pot of coffee and retreated into her bedroom to change clothes. She'd waited all year to put on these pajamas and she knew Taylor would laugh at her, but she didn't care. She needed something stupid and silly to pull her out of the funk she'd found herself in.
When she retreated from the bedroom in her flannel pants and the large turkey on her chest, Taylor took one look at her and started to laugh. She smiled and curtsied. "Ta-da!"
"What the hell is that?" He said. "I am so jealous right now. I always wanted a huge...turkey on my shirt."
"Eat your heart out," she joked.
He shook his head at her. "You're absolutely insane, do you know that? Where do you find stuff like that?"
"You order it. You wouldn't believe what you can find online, it's great! They had slippers, too, but I thought I'd stop while I was ahead." She bent over and lifted her pants leg. "So I got the socks."
As he looked at the brown turkeys on her feet, he shook his head. "You wait. Next year, I will out-turkey you to the point where you'll want to run home crying to your mommy."
Then her face grew serious. "Maybe next year I can plan to go home for Thanksgiving."
"Maybe next year I'll join you," he retorted.
She took a breath as she crossed the living room and to the closet. "Well, we'll see how this coming year plays out. Hopefully I can get this office turned around."
As she started pulling boxes out of the living room closet, Taylor's cell phone rang. She tried not to listen as he answered, but she had no choice when he said, "Winn? Uh, my mom wants to talk to you."
Winn's heart sank. She had no idea what to expect and she turned around and narrowed her eyes at Taylor in confusion. He simply shrugged his shoulders and extended his phone to her.
Winn got on the phone and started to speak immediately. "Hi, Mrs. Hanson, I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to say it sooner, but thank you so much for having me today. Dinner was delicious and--"
Diana cut her off. "I just wanted to tell you that it was an honor to meet you today and that I'm sorry that it was under the circumstances it was under. I'm sorry that you had to miss a holiday with your family but I'm glad you came to spend it with us. I know you feel like you imposed today, but the truth is, you were sort of a breath of fresh air and I'm sorry that you and I didn't get to spend more time together. You are always welcome in my home. Okay?"
Winn was stunned. She was completely surprised, she swore that she made a horrible first impression, given the drama with Isaac. "Um, well, uh, thank you. I appreciate that very much. Um, thank you so much for having me..."
"Think nothing of it. Next time, though, make some of those dishes I heard you and Tay talking about at dinner. They sounded delicious."
Winn smiled. "Uh, yeah. Definitely. Sure thing."
After a moment, Winn handed the phone back to Taylor, still a little stunned. Taylor smiled at her after hanging up the phone. "My family loves you. You impressed them. And to be honest, they got a bit of a kick out of your little interrogation today."
"Don't remind me," she lamented as she continued to pull boxes out of the closet. "I'm so ashamed of myself for that."
"Well I thought it was hilarious."
She stood straight and smiled in thought. "Ike's face was pretty priceless, wasn't it?"
Taylor chuckled. "I'm not sure anyone's ever actually called him on his shit before."
"Well it's high time someone did." Then she sighed as she looked around. "Anyway, I don't want to talk about it anymore. I think this is it. And I think the coffee is ready. I wanted a real tree, but...this fake one will have to do this year."
"Nobody gets real trees anymore," Taylor said.
"I know. Sad, isn't it?"
"That's what they make pine-scented room spray for."
"It's not the same."
"Fake trees are greener."
"Only because the people complaining of that let their real trees dry out and die."
"Easy, killer."
Winn smirked at him. "I just hate putting these fake ones together, that's all."
"Lucky for you, I'm pretty decent at it. Go and round up some coffee and I'll get started in here."
From the kitchen, Winn poured coffee and watched Taylor in the living room as he stacked her Christmas boxes out of the way and began pulling the fake branches out of her Christmas tree box. The tree wasn't terribly big or terribly thick. Just a cheapie six-foot thing. Tall enough so that it wouldn't take so much effort for her to decorate the top. When you lived alone, you had to plan your purchases according to such things.
As she watched him, she started to think about how surreal the entire situation was. She never really thought long and hard about it until right that second. Taylor was in her cheap, modest house, putting together her cheap, modest tree, and was about to drink her cheap, modest coffee from a mug she bought for fifty cents at a yard sale, from a coffee pot she'd bought at a cheap general store. She didn't live much different than most people she knew on her own pay scale. However, Taylor was a millionaire. A famous millionaire, who had easy access to all the best things that life had to offer. And, surprisingly, Winn often forgot about that. He never said a word about her busted up walkway or the outdated recliner that sat in the corner of her living room or the ratty strip of wood that held her poorly-operating sliding glass door closed. She decided that he either chose not to comment or didn't even think about it himself. She hoped for the latter, but she would probably never know.
It didn't take him long to have half the tree up. He wasn't kidding about being decent at the task. If it were left up to her, she would still be struggling with the bottom layer of branches. Once the tree was up, her holiday was jolly again. Assembling and lighting were always the worst parts.
"So it's not pre-lit?" Taylor observed, nearly breathless.
"No," she said as she sat herself and their coffee mugs down on the coffee table. "I like to have options. I might want white lights one year, I might want colored the next year."
"Makes sense," he said as he continued to work on the tree. "How are you feeling this year?"
She shrugged as she pulled one of the plastic bins over toward her. "Don't know yet."
As she opened the bin, a smile spread across her face at the contents. She loved her bin full of Christmas music and Christmas movies. Besides the tree, once it was finished, those were her favorite parts of the holiday. She looked up at Taylor as he finished up the top part of the tree. "You really don't think this is stupid? I mean, you could be spending your Thanksgiving night doing something else--"
"Like what?"
She shrugged. "I don't know. It just seems like the Christmas spirit isn't what it used to be anymore. Starting the Christmas season on Thanksgiving night used to be the thing to do and now it seems like everyone says it's too early and turns their noses up at it. Does that make ME the crazy one now?"
"Hey. If I wasn't into this, I wouldn't be here."
"So you came over just to put up my tree."
"No. I came over to spend time with you. And to dig into that pie that Mom sent. And to keep myself out of that damn studio for a night."
"Is that what you do on the holidays? You work?"
"Don't have anything else better to do," he said as he adjusted the branches at the top of the tree.
"So...what, you just go have dinner with your family and then head straight to the studio?"
"Yeah, usually."
"Tay, do you--do you stay single because--because maybe you can't get out of a relationship what you can get out of your music? I mean, I know you claim that it's because you don't have the time, but--is that really true?"
He lowered his arms and he turned to look at her, falling eerily silent. He crossed the room and picked up his coffee mug and sat on the coffee table beside her. "I, uh, guess I never really thought about it that way."
Winn shrugged. "I mean, I could understand it. Your music's always there. She's dynamic, she's diverse, and she never lets you down because you're putting into it what she needs to grow and blossom. She's something you can be proud of all the time. She's beautiful and she's comforting and no matter what happens in your life, anything at all, she will always be there. She'll never leave you, she'll never go away. She's a sure thing. You can trust her."
Taylor looked over at her. "Why are you referring to it like it's a real person?"
"Because it is. Your music is your mistress. You're married to it. No relationship is ever going to compare to the passion you feel when you're composing. That's why you're a workaholic."
Taylor sat there in silence and drank his coffee. She didn't know if she'd struck a nerve or not, but she was confident that she was right. Then he asked her, "So, then, why are you a workaholic?"
She side-glanced at him and smirked. "Because *I* don't have anything else better to do."
He smiled and shook his head. Then he craned his neck and peered into the box she had pulled in front of her. "Whatcha got in there?"
She smiled at him. "The life of the party. All my Christmas music and movies..."
"Oh, really? Let's see how you like to party, then."
Winn giggled as she pulled the box between them and they both began to go through it. "So you prefer all the old-school stuff," Taylor observed as he began looking through the likes of Bing Crosby and Dean Martin.
"Would you expect any different? I don't do modern Christmas. Wait till you see my tree decorations."
"Do you have bubble lights?"
"You stop speaking to my soul right now."
Taylor laughed. "I knew it. This is great."
"Not only do I have bubble lights," she informed him. "But I bought them from a second-hand store. AND they work. Those suckers are legit."
"You're gonna use colored lights this year," he stated matter-of-factly. "Because I'm gonna need to see those things in action. We had bubble lights when Ike and I were really small, but when Zac came along we had to stop using them because he kept trying to take them off the tree. I was always so fascinated by them. They're like tiny little lava lamps."
Winn smiled at him. "So you're going to relive your childhood vicariously through me?"
Taylor shrugged. "Sure, why not?"
"Okay," she nodded as she continued to leaf through her box. Then her smile widened and she felt her face turn red as she pulled a CD out from close to the bottom. She straightened up and showed Taylor his band's own Christmas CD from 1997. "Look what I found."
He chuckled and took it from her hand as he turned it over in his. "Wow..."
"Hey, you start rifling through my stuff and all this fan stuff starts popping up. I'd apologize if I was actually sorry for it..."
He smiled at her and looked back at the CD. "No, it's great, it's...I don't run into situations like this very often. Well, not at all, actually..."
"I've had that since the day it was released."
"It's in great condition."
"Don't let that fool you, that thing's been rode hard and hung out to dry."
Taylor roared in laughter at that and Winn couldn't help but giggle. Then he calmed himself and said, "Hey, hand me a pen."
She looked at him, puzzled. "What?"
"Just hand me a pen. Then you can work on getting out the lights."
"What do you need it for?"
He smiled in objection. "Don't worry about what I'm doing, you just do your thing."
She found a pen on the bar of her kitchen and she reluctantly handed it to him. As he opened the CD and began to write inside the booklet, she tried hard not to be so curious as she searched the boxes for the one the contained the lights. However, the curiosity was killing her.
After a few minutes of her dragging out lights and plugging them in, Taylor closed up the CD and handed it back to her. "Here," he said. "Don't open this until Christmas."
She looked at him in objection. "Well--how am I supposed to listen to it?"
"Download it. I can give you a copy. Or--here, give it back." She handed it back and he opened it up and took the CD out of it and then handed them both back to her. "There. Don't open the case until Christmas."
She smiled. "I'll put it under the tree as a reminder."
"Perfect," he smiled back.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
An hour later, things were feeling just slightly less torturous for Taylor as he and Winn laughed, talked, ate cobbler, and sat side-by-side on the couch with their feet propped on the coffee table and pounds of newspaper in each of their laps. He had to smile at Winn as she studiously pored through each ad with a Sharpie in hand, circling each deal she might be interested in, and stacking each ad booklet in separate piles according to importance and time of store opening.
He was more interested in the comics section, but she was adamant about not opening it up until all the ads had been gone through. "You save the best for last," she advised him. "The comics are the cool-down exercise."
As they leafed through more ads, she finally dropped her pen and she smiled over at Taylor. "Okay. I think I got it. If I plan this accordingly, I'll have time to stop for coffee and maybe breakfast from one store to the next."
"This is crazy."
"But did you see the deal on that camera? That's, like, 65 percent off! The original price on that thing is--"
"Winn, you cannot seriously stand in line at two in the morning at this one store just for a camera. I will BUY you a camera--"
She jerked her head toward him and glared at him. "It has nothing to do with the price," she snapped at him. "I can afford it at full price."
His eyes widened, surprised at her tone. It was obvious that he'd offended her, which wasn't his intent. He had apparently struck a nerve. "I didn't mean--I mean, that's not--I wasn't implying--"
She glared at him a moment longer, searching his face, before she turned back to the ad in her lap and opened it up. "It's about the chase," she said, her voice calming. "It's about the rush of the find, the madness in the store, the feeling of victory after getting your hands on one of only ten of the items available...as long as you're not shopping for toys or electronics, you can pretty much be guaranteed to walk out with what you go in for."
"So...you don't do it for the deals...?"
"Of course I do it for the deals, are you kidding? But I actually LIKE the activity, too."
"No way," he said, shaking his head. "No sale is worth the headache and the lack of sleep and--and you have to work all day tomorrow..." His voice trailed off when he saw her face. She was serious about this. And excited about it. Apparently, this was something she thoroughly looked forward to and he was just sitting there, raining on her parade. So then he sighed. "But if you want a wingman, I'm available..."
Her eyes widened and she tried to hide the smile that crept across her face anyway. "Really?"
He shrugged and leafed through the papers in his lap. "Sure, why not? You'll need someone to hold your coffee, maybe hold your place in line if you forget something...keep you company..."
"Tay," she said matter-of-factly. "You're right by saying it's crazy. Because it IS crazy. I mean, I know I'm a nerd and stuff and I like that you have no problem with that, but you do NOT need to be subjected to the kind of crazy I'm into."
He cut a side glance at her and smirked. "You stood in line for my concerts, didn't you?"
"Yes..."
"I know what kinda crazy you're into," he winked. "I'm cool with it."
Her grin widened and now she was beaming at him. "That would be so great if you came along! I mean, you could drive, you know the area better than I do!"
He nodded. "That, I do..."
And then her smile faded. "But, wait. You'll be driving all night. I mean, I'll want to leave out of here by at least three-thirty in the morning. I'd hate for you to drive all the way home then all the way back and--you know what? Just sleep here."
His eyes widened and his words caught in his throat momentarily. "What?"
"It's only logical. I mean, I know you don't have a change of clothes or anything...if you need to run home or something you can. And the couch doesn't pull out or anything but it's pretty comfy. Or my bed is plenty big--"
"The couch is fine," he said quickly, cutting her off. The couch was perfect. He couldn't sleep anywhere but the couch. He would live on the couch. He would chain himself to the couch...
"Okay," she said, completely oblivious to his sudden apprehension. "I have blankets and pillows and you can throw a sheet over it if you want..."
"Um, I'm not picky..."
"Um, did you need to go home and get a change of clothes or anything? I mean, you can't be comfortable in those jeans..."
"Come on," he said. "I'm a guy. And I'm a musician. I can sleep anywhere in anything. And besides, this is really just a nap if you wanna be honest about it. Pretty sure nobody's going to be looking at my wrinkled shirt..."
"Well, I mean, I feel bad..."
"I invited myself, you shouldn't feel bad."
"Okay..." Then she looked around and up at the tree. "Thanks for helping me decorate my tree. It's much faster with two people. Normally it takes me hours. I have to pick up every little thing and examine it..."
"I noticed," he muttered.
"Hey," she scolded, scowling at him. "Are you sure you don't think my decorations are dorky? They're all second-hand and they're all old, but I love them. I think I was born in the wrong generation."
"I think I'm beginning to agree."
She smiled at him. "So you do think they're dorky."
"I do NOT think they're dorky," he smiled back. "I just think...well, what would Christmas be without THAT much silver tinsel?"
Winn laughed. "Well, what do your trees usually look like, Father Christmas?"
"I don't usually put one up."
"You're kidding..."
He shrugged. "What's the point? Nobody would see it."
"But you would. That's the point." Then she sighed and looked back up at her tree. "You can share mine."
He smiled over at her. "I would love to share yours."
"Any time you need your Christmas tree fix, you know where I live."
"Absolutely."
"Besides, you helped me decorate it. It's half yours anyway."
"I could understand that logic."
Then she looked at him again. "So you wanna clean this stuff up and watch a movie till we get sleepy? That coffee has me kinda wired right now."
He laughed. "This early? It's only just after eight."
"Yeah, and we have to be up at three."
"You're the boss."
She smiled in triumph. "You're right. I am. I'll just keep my ads out that I need--"
"And I'll keep my comics," Taylor interjected with a sly smile.
"--and you can set the rest of the papers aside and I'll be right back. Do you have a movie preference?"
"It's gonna be a Christmas movie, isn't it?"
"Of course it is, what do you take me for?"
*******************
A short while later, Taylor was in heaven. Winn, as innocent and oblivious and as comfortable in their friendship as she was, lay across the couch with her head on a pillow in his lap, reaching her arm out to the coffee table and steadily popping M&M's into her mouth from a candy dish in the shape of a Santa Claus they'd found packed away in one of her boxes. Over her, lay the blanket that was intended for Taylor to sleep under and he smiled as her turkey-covered socks peeked out from underneath it on the other end of the couch. The room was dark, save for the bubble-lit tree and the light from the TV as they settled into a classic version of A Christmas Carol.
"It's a good thing I've seen this a million times," she said casually as she chewed a mouthful of candy-coated chocolate. "Because your huge feet are totally in my way."
"Hey. You're the one who opted to lay there."
"I didn't realize your feet were so damn big."
"You know what they say about big feet," he said, smirking into the dark.
"Yeah," she shot back. "They block your view."
Taylor scoffed and let his head fall back onto the couch. Burn. He loved it, though. "Wow," he replied.
"Do I lie?"
He shook his head. "No. No, you don't." Then he wiggled his sock-covered toes as they rested on the coffee table in front of her. "So what do you want me to do about it?"
"Nothing, I'm comfortable."
He chuckled, amused. "Then stop complaining."
"Keep doing that to my hair," she said, suddenly. "It's helping me relax."
He didn't even realize he was doing anything. He looked down and realized that his fingers happened to be very involved with the mass of red that lay across the pillow in his lap. He swallowed hard and made a desperate attempt to make light of a situation that made his own heart race. "Guess I gotta do something since I'm sure all that chocolate there isn't doing the trick."
"But it's Christmas chocolate," she objected.
He smiled. "Fine. Eat your chocolate."
"You want some?"
"No, thanks."
"Chicken."
"You got any of that?"
"Shut up."
He chuckled and he tugged on her hair a little, which resulted in a slap to his knee, which resulted in the natural reflex of his leg, which then resulted in the near over-turning of the candy bowl, which THEN resulted in, "TAY! STOP!"
He couldn't help but laugh. Hard. "Goddamn, Winn, don't hit me there. Don't you know anything about the human anatomy?"
"Don't pull my hair and I won't have to hit you."
"That chocolate started it, you know. If it wasn't sitting there in the first place, it wouldn't have started this whole chain reaction."
"Of course. It's always the innocent chocolate's fault."
"Chocolate's trouble. Nothing good ever happens when chocolate's involved."
"I beg to differ."
"Enlighten me."
"It's the things that happen in your mouth that make it worth it."
"I'm starting to think we should end this conversation right there..."
Suddenly, she turned over on her back and she rested the Santa Claus candy bowl on her stomach. "Here," she said, taking a couple of the candies between her fingers and putting them into his mouth. He chewed them up automatically. As she repeatedly fed him the chocolate, he knew she would never have any idea what she was doing to him. Never, in a million years. She smiled up at him. "There. Now tell me what's going on in your mouth doesn't make the debauchery of chocolate worth it."
He smiled as he chewed the mouthful of candy. "I stand corrected. I've never been more wrong in my entire life. It's completely worth it." He knew she would never understand his double entendre and he didn't care, either.
She looked up at him for a moment as she seemed to search his face and then she smiled. "You wanna know a secret?"
His heart melted. "I want to know all your secrets," he found himself saying.
Her smile widened. "This isn't my real hair."
It took a second for what she was saying to register. "Do what?"
"Well, I mean, of COURSE it's my real hair. I mean, the color isn't real. I'm not a natural redhead."
Suddenly, he thought about that phrase he was always hearing Isaac say that made his stomach churn and he smiled. Oh, he smiled in sweet, sweet vindictive victory. "Oh, really...does, uh, does anyone else know that?"
"Wouldn't be a secret if they did, would it?"
"Touche," he smiled. "So what's your real color?"
She scowled. "Some dull, plain, mousy brown color. So boring."
"Well I never would have known it wasn't natural if you hadn't told me."
She smiled again. "Well, thank you. Let's just hope I can find someone who's good at keeping it that way."
*******************
Taylor didn't know at exactly what point they had fallen asleep. All he knew was that the movie appeared to have ended long ago and he opened his eyes to a sound-asleep Winn, still on her back, her face turned toward him and her hand resting in the candy bowl. He had to smile. He couldn't help himself. He just knew that candy was melted all over the side of her hand now but he couldn't take his eyes off of her face. He could have watched her sleep all night. He moved a strand of hair from her face. She looked so peaceful and so relaxed. And he wanted to kiss her so bad he couldn't stand it. It wouldn't have mattered if she'd slept through it or not, he just wanted to feel her lips against his. Once. Just once.
God, he was such a sap. Choosing to snap out of it and stay with the program, he gently woke her up and helped her to bed. What he WANTED to do was crawl into bed with her and hold her, turkey t-shirt and all. But god knew he needed to get a grip on himself. And so, resisting his many urges, he tucked her into the bed, helped himself to setting the alarm on her phone, and headed back into the living room.
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Winn didn't remember putting herself to bed. However, she did wake up at the rumbling of her stomach and she knew what time of the night it was. Because it always happened around the same time, several nights per week.
She looked at her phone and was right on schedule. Midnight. It was a bad habit and she knew she shouldn't have allowed her biological clock to get used to it, but she couldn't help herself. As she got out of the bed and trudged into the kitchen, she was quiet to retrieve a spoon from her silverware drawer and the jar of peanut butter from her pantry, so as not to wake Taylor. Quietly, she opened up the jar, scooped her spoon inside, and smiled as she put the creamy, peanutty goodness into her mouth.
And then she heard the noise. She paused, her makeshift peanut butter lollipop in her mouth, as she heard the rattling, then the opening and closing of her sliding glass door. She couldn't see the couch from where she was standing, but she prayed that it was Taylor out prowling around.
As he stepped around the still-lit Christmas tree, he froze, apparently shocked to see her awake. She froze in embarrassment at his witnessing her midnight snacking routine and he was obviously startled to see her awake.
"Um..." She said as she pulled the spoon from her mouth and swirled around the peanut butter that was left in her mouth.
He smiled nervously and turned his head behind him. "I, uh, I fixed your door."
She narrowed her eyes at him. "At midnight?"
"It was nothing major, it was just off the track a little was all. Didn't take any effort at all, really."
"At midnight..." she repeated.
"I, uh, I wasn't sleeping," he admitted.
Winn felt bad. "Oh, Tay, I'm sorry. Look, we'll switch places. I don't mind the couch at all and the bed is completely comfortable. It's no big deal, I promise."
He smiled. "No. No, it's fine, really." Then he narrowed his eyes at her. "What--what are YOU doing?"
Her eyes widened. "Pretend you never saw this. That you're, like, dreaming or something."
"Too late. You have peanut butter and I want in."
"Fine," she said as he walked into the kitchen. She scooped her spoon back into the jar and handed it to him. "I'm done with it anyway."
"You sure?" He said, popping it into his mouth without thinking about it.
"Yep. One spoonful usually does it for me."
"Do you do this every night?" His voice was muffled and Winn noticed that talking with his mouth full was a habit he seemed to have...
"Not every night. But I buy peanut butter more often than I do anything else, so...it's a dirty addiction, I know..."
"Could be crack," he shrugged.
"It practically is..."
"What do you chase it with? Milk?"
"Chocolate milk."
He furrowed his brow and he smiled. "That IS a dirty habit."
"Damn," she whispered, defeated. She then proceeded to put together two glasses of chocolate milk and handed one to him. "I'm gonna have to start buying bigger jars of peanut butter."
"And more chocolate syrup," he added. "And whole milk tastes better."
"It's two percent, take it or leave it."
"Fine. Deal. I can compromise."
"Good. This is MY dirty habit. If you want in on this secret, you gotta play by my rules. My peanut butter, my chocolate syrup, my milk."
"No modifications?"
"If it's at your place, you can modify anything you want."
"God, I can't wait to introduce you to my friend Frankenberry."
"I can't wait to lust after those perfectly-chiseled hunks of animated man meat with the 80s high top haircuts."
"Frankenberry will be jealous."
Winn shrugged. "He'll get over it. Especially when I have him in my mouth."
Taylor hung his head and shook it as he laughed. "Jesus Christ, Winn..."
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Finally, when the glasses were empty and they'd had their fair share of peanut butter, Taylor looked at Winn, her eyes heavy once again. As he helped her put away their small mess, he took one look at her, in her messy ponytail and her turkey pajamas, and leaned forward and pecked her cheek quickly. "Go back to sleep," he smiled. "You got a big day in a few hours."
Winn yawned and nodded. "Okay," she said, turning to head back toward her bedroom.
"Goodnight, Tay."
"Night, Winn," he replied.
He flopped himself back down onto the couch and stared up at the dimly-lit ceiling. Why did he do that? Why couldn't he stop himself? She seemed to think nothing of it, but he couldn't get it out of his mind. He couldn't get anything out of his mind, he couldn't forget her facial expressions, everything she said, everything she wore, every time she smiled...he was a wreck. And he knew he was only doing it to himself.
Dammit, something had to give here. Something. Anything. Because it was only getting worse and worse by the minute.