Over the weekend, we go to pick out a tree. It’s freezing cold outside, and we’re all dressed up in hats, scarves, and boots.

It’s busy at the tree farm. There are families everywhere. Kids run around with excitement, each trying to find the tallest, bushiest tree. Some of them pick up handfuls of snow, throwing them at each other from behind the pines.

We look just like any of those other families. Megan and Zoe stroll side by side, talking and laughing. Jack is trying to run ahead, pulling me along by my hand, pointing at this tree and that.

I try to keep up with him. My eyes keep wandering back over to Zoe. She looks beautiful this morning. She’s wearing a grey knitted hat with a snowflake pattern, ear flaps, and two braids. Her long red hair spills out from under the wool. She’s wearing no makeup, but her skin is bright, flushed in the cold air. Her smile is wide and joyful. Among all the white and green, she stands out like a fire.

She’s caught up in the moment, as eager as Jack to pick out the perfect tree. She lets Megan and Jack go ahead and falls back to take my hand. She looks up at me with a warm smile.

“This was a great idea, Tom. The kids have never had a real tree before.”

“We get one every year at the office. They set it up in the lobby of the New York office. You should see it—two stories tall and covered in lights. It’s something.”

“What about at your home in New York? Do you have a tree there?”

I shake my head. “No. It seems a bit too much to decorate the apartment only for me.”

“I’ve had years where I’ve been tempted to skip it. It’s a lot of effort to string up tinsel just for myself to look at, but I never regret it. There’s something about a tree in the corner and stockings on the wall that make me smile. It’s Christmas.”

“Do you usually spend the holidays with Laura?”

Zoe smiles down at the ground then looks back up at me and nods. “She’s always treated me like family. Without her, it would be a TV turkey dinner for one. What about you? What does Christmas in New York look like?”

“A party every night from November first to Christmas Eve.”

“And then?”

“Christmas day I wake up and keep working. In the evening, I’ll open one of my vintage bottles of brandy and have a few drinks.”

Zoe looks sorry for me. “That doesn’t sound like too much fun.”

“I guess Christmas is for families.”

“It’s been fun this year. I mean, except for what Laura’s been going through, obviously; but the rest of it. This stuff, like Christmas shopping and picking out the tree. I’m feeling the Christmas spirit this year.”

I close my fingers around hers. “Me, too.”

It’s Jack who finds the Christmas tree. It’s a tall, fat pine with loose needles that scatter from every slight moment.

He grins. “This one!”

“This one?” I examine the tree up and down. “I’m not sure that one will fit in your mom’s house.”

“Please, Uncle Tom? Look how fat it is!”

I can’t say no. I grin. “This is our tree.”

We return home, and the tree is delivered within the hour. My predictions were right—it’s so tall that it scrapes the ceiling. But Jack leaps into the air to catch the top of the tree and swings on it until it bends into submission, bowing in the living room, so large that it obscures half the TV. Needles spray everywhere. The whole room smells like pine.

Zoe comes in with armfuls of boxes full of baubles, tinsel, and other decorations. She puts on a Christmas CD, and we all decorate together.

I’ve never understood Christmas before. It’s always seemed like a bunch of stupid rituals that people put themselves through in some vain attempt to prove their family loyalty.

Not this year. This year, I feel some of that magic. Decorating the tree isn’t a dumb chore, it’s a fun way to spend time with my niece and nephew.

The room is filled with excitable conversation and laughter as we hang the decorations on the branches and playfully argue with each other over where each one should go. Finally, there is only the star left.

I hoist Jack onto my shoulders, star in hand, and he reaches to balance it on the top of the bent-over tree. He manages to wedge it on, and everyone cheers. Megan flicks the switch on the lights, and the tree glitters with golden sparkles.

Jack is hopping from foot to foot with excitement. “I can’t wait!”

Zoe looks over to me; she’s beaming. I grin right back. The tree is up, the kids are laughing; between us, we’ve got kind of a knack for this Christmas thing.

We stay up late watching Christmas movies and eating too much chocolate. Jack laughs hysterically at every lame pun, squirming when he giggles. Megan pushes his feet off her, reaching for another chocolate and grinning. Zoe rests her head in her hand, her elbow propped up on the arm of the sofa, a smile on her face.

Finally, the kids go to bed, and I close the gap between Zoe and me on the sofa. She gladly falls against my chest, wrapping her arms around my waist. She lets out a satisfied sigh. “That was a good day.”

I place my hand under her chin and gently lift her face. I see the surprise in her eyes before my kiss catches her, then she sinks into it.

We say nothing.

The credits of the last film we watched are still playing on the TV. The only light in the room comes from the twinkling tree.

I slip my arm under Zoe’s legs and lift her. She wraps her arms around my neck and rests her head on my shoulder. Her eyes are filled with affection; she smiles up at me like I’m the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen.

I carry her upstairs to Laura’s bedroom, shutting the door behind us.

We sit side by side on the bed. Zoe’s wearing a long, thin sweater over a tank top. I pull off the sweater, then pull back the strap of her top to kiss her shoulder. I raise my lips to her collarbone, then her throat, kissing every inch of her skin that my lips can find. She tastes like perfume.

Zoe places one hand gently on the back of my head. Her fingers slip through my hair. My cock swells at her touch. Her lips are soft and gentle, her tongue seeking mine.

I rest my palms on her ribcage, feeling her body rise and fall with each breath. She lowers herself back onto the mattress, pulling me down with her. I wrap my arms around her, and we tumble on the bed like teens. Every time Zoe lifts her mouth to catch another kiss, it makes my heart ache with yearning. She’s everything I want.

She pulls my T-shirt over my head, then traces her hands over my chest. Her fingertips are cool and teasing. My cock aches with desire.

I pull off her shirt and unfasten her bra. I bow my head to her chest and close my lips around her nipple, letting my tongue wander across her flesh, then gently nibbling. She lets out a soft, long breath filled with pleasure.

She opens my jeans and slips a hand inside, beneath my briefs. She closes her fingers around my throbbing cock; it grows harder at her touch. I watch her lips part with desire when she feels how hard I am for her. She lets out a soft, longing breath, moving her hand up and down. I press my mouth down over hers, kissing her hard.

I peel Zoe’s jeans away from her legs, followed by her panties. She parts her legs for me. I press my fingers against her warm, wet clit and rub. Zoe stretches her hands out above her head, closing her eyes in bliss.

Her body lays before me, bare and waiting. My heart races in my chest, my mouth grows dry. She’s so beautiful.

I stroke her clit until Zoe bites down on her lip, then press harder and faster until she comes, her hands clasping at the pillowcases.

She sits up and pulls my pants away. There is an urgency in her movements. She goes from kissing me to tearing off my clothes, not wanting to waste a moment of intimacy.

We’re both naked. Zoe’s body is slender but full of curves in the right places. She lifts her eyes to catch mine and smiles in welcome.

I position myself and enter her. She gasps at the first thrust, letting her head fall back, her eyes shut. She opens them, then lifts her upper body, encircling her arms around me, holding onto me as I kiss her deeply, pounding into her.

She leans into each thrust, inviting me deeper. I rock into her as deeply as I can, growing faster with each stroke. I press a thumb down against Zoe’s clitoris, and she stifles a moan.

I move faster and faster until I’m on the edge of orgasm. I massage my thumb against Zoe’s clit until she comes, and then I follow, feeling a hot-and-cold rush as I finish. Breathless, I kiss Zoe once more before I roll to her side, then pull her into my embrace.

Her hair is ruffled, her face flushed. I know I’m the only one who sees her like this. It makes me feel close to her. I hold her close to my chest, kissing her forehead.

Zoe is the first to speak. “Christmas is almost over.”

“Christmas hasn’t come yet.”

“It’ll be the New Year before we know it.” She twists to look up at me. There’s a question in her eyes; a question I don’t know how to answer. What happens next?