This Christmas Read Online Free

wind is stronger than it was in town. I shade my eyes with my hands to admire the place I’m actually going to be staying in for the next week.
    “It’s beautiful,” I say.
    Paper bags crinkle behind me. Will is already unpacking the bed of the truck. I inhale deeply, taking in the fresh air surrounding us, before helping him with the bags.
    The few snowfalls in the City this year turned to a brackish slush before I had the chance to enjoy it. Here the snow is untouched and pristine, with only our boots making the first marks. I lag behind, taking in the expanse of land the cabin looks out upon.
    I hurry to catch up with Will just as he opens the front door. A blast of warm air heats my cheeks and I remember Becky saying that someone cares for the house when they aren’t here.
    Will moves out of the way, giving us both the full view of the place. Against the right wall is a wooden staircase with the same rustic feel as the rest of the cabin. The rest of the floor is open. The doorway spills into a living room with numerous chairs and a plush couch that has seen better days. The corner of the room is a perfect spot for a Christmas tree and my mind whirs with possibility.
    At the back of the room is a small kitchen with a table and chairs for the dining area. It’s a small but cozy place. I can’t wait to explore the rest of the house.
    Will crosses the room and puts his bags on the table. I follow him and do the same. I turn around to reach for him, but he’s already across the room again and before I know it he’s out the door.
    Now I know something is wrong. I reaffirm my silent promise to make this a Christmas he won’t forget.
    Instead of unpacking, I wander past the kitchen down a small hallway. The first door opens to a utility closet with a few cleaning supplies. The next door is a half bathroom. I close that door quickly, a strange smell coming from somewhere in that room. We’ll have to stick with the full bathroom which I assume is upstairs, and I hope that one at least smells normal. The last door in the hallway is a pantry. It’s not lit but I find a string hanging from the ceiling and pull. The room is wall to wall shelving filled with soups, jams, peanut butter, and assorted non-perishable items.
    I check a few of the cans and everything is still within the expiration date. At least if we get snowed in for a few weeks we’ll be all set. I also find flour, sugar, and other supplies for baking. I get the idea to make Will some of my mom’s famous sugar cookies. He used to go insane over those. That would definitely brighten his mood.
    The front door opens again. A fluttering takes over my stomach and building excitement flows through me. I turn off the light and leave the pantry. Will’s already out of the cabin again and I find my bag by the door and race towards it.
    Even though I wasn’t sure if there would be wifi—I found it rude to ask—I brought my laptop and my bluetooth speaker. I move the curtain aside and see Will is still at the car stacking my boxes of gifts. I hurry across the room and hook up the speaker to one of the plugs in the kitchen. My annual tradition since getting my own phone in the early years of high school is my Christmas playlist. And just as Will walks into the cabin, he’s met with a jazz version of ‘Jingle Bells’.
    He winces as he tries to close the door behind him, but I sprint across the room and get it for him.
    He says something but I can’t hear him.
    “What?” I ask.
    “Where do you want these?” he shouts over the music.
    I point to the empty corner across the room that I’ve marked out for the Christmas tree. I pick up the rest of the grocery bags and hum along to the song as I unpack them in the kitchen. At the store I’d grabbed a small frozen turkey in anticipation of a big Christmas Eve meal, so I put it in the refrigerator to thaw. I’ve never cooked one on my own, but how hard could it be?
    ‘Jingle Bell Rock’ comes on next and I dance