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They got the tree up, disaster-free. That had to be a first in Teruko's life. The first Christmas tree that wasn't infested with ants, or rotten, or didn't put a hole in the floor because it was too heavy. Eden reminisced on past Christmas trees, but Teruko thought it was perfect.
That's not to say it wasn't messy. Most of the ornaments that hang from the branches were broken or worn out– a majority of those were saved from when Eden and Teruko were kids. Of course, Eden’s parents kept all of hers while Teruko had to dig through storage units– or save the ones her brother tried to throw out.
Others were collections from their favorite pastimes– sales. Eden was a vintage girl, which Teruko respected. She kept it under wraps, but Teruko loves the stories history holds.
The newer ornaments were hand-crafted by Eden herself. They were all wood, everything from wood-carved ducks (Eden's favorite) to wood-carved dancers (Teruko's favorite). Instead of a star on the top of their tree, Eden created a clock that counts down to Christmas day.
Eden was watching her with a sly smile, “You're tearing up.”
Teruko wipes her eyes on her sleeve, making a fast beeline for the exit, “I'll go get the popcorn string.”
The string was Teruko's idea. She meant it as a surprise for Eden, but after an hour's work, she still couldn't figure out how to get the popcorn on the string. With no other choice left, Teruko asked her artist girlfriend for help. After some time, Teruko didn't feel embarrassed or ashamed anymore. Working on the string had to be the best time she's had with Eden for a while.
Teruko wandered the kitchen, trying to remember where she last saw it. Had Eden taken care of it, or her? If it was Teruko, she probably put it in a cupboard somewhere…
Teruko gets on her tippy toes, reaching above her head to feel around the top shelf of their cabinet. It was a place in their house where they put things before they could find a permanent home. Her fingertips had just caught on the string when Eden screamed in the next room.
She doesn't think much of it at first. It was probably a spider or a loose bug that crawled from the tree. Then Eden called Teruko's name, and her stomach dropped, “T- Teruko, the tree's on fire!!”
Luckily for Teruko, she was never one to freeze up and pity herself in the middle of a dire situation. She always leaped into action if there was a threat of danger. (Maybe it wasn't luck. Now that she thinks about it, Teruko had trained herself from a young age.)
Pots and pans clattered to the floor she searched for the biggest one, thrusting it under the faucet. As it fills, Teruko paces anxiously, shouting instructions to Eden in the other room.
Once it was full (or, close enough) Teruko sprinted into the other room, quickly spotting the source of the fire and dousing it, “Eden! We have a fire extinguisher for this reason!”
“I- it's upstairs! I didn't want to leave the fire in case I couldn't warn you in time–”
“Forget about me!” Teruko shouts desperately. “You should have been thinking about the house.”
Eden squeaks, scrambling a few steps back. Her voice became quieter while Teruko's became louder, “I- I'm sorry, I'll–”
“No, I'm not mad at you, Eden! The fire isn't out yet, you need to grab the damn extinguisher.”
Eden ran off, but the fire was growing too damn fast. Teruko grabbed the wet blankets and pressed them against the smaller fire. To her relief, they went out quickly, but despite the smoke, Teruko didn't move. She felt choked up. Why did she ruin everything nice in her life?
.
Eden somehow managed to grab a last-minute tree. Teruko expected it to be like their last one until Eden walked into the house with it. Shee should have expected to be tiny since Eden never asked for help to transport it.
They set up the tree together. Unfortunately, it couldn't be decorated, but Eden insisted that Teruko put one on the top branch. She relented. It was the least she could do because she destroyed Eden's chances at using her clock treetop.
She chooses Eden's duck ornament and places it on one of the top branches. It bends under the weight.
Teruko pulls back with a sigh, “I ruined it. Again.”
“No,” Eden protests with a suspicious sniff. She clutches Teruko's arm, resting her head on her shoulder. “It's our little Charlie Brown tree. I love it.”