by Amy Briggs
“I believe you’ve already met my sister, Samantha?” Robin grinned at me.
“Yes, yes I have.” I winked at Robin, and she walked away to talk to some of the other people milling around, and the kids took off together in another direction. Likely, they made a beeline toward the Christmas cookies.
Samantha was left standing in front of me all by herself. Absolutely stunning, she was smiling bashfully at me. “So, about today …” she started, but I interrupted her.
“Today was fantastic, Samantha.” She was trying to explain, but I didn’t want her to feel self-conscious, and my theory was that, if she were comfortable enough with me, she’d tell me what she wanted me to know when she was ready.
“Thank you.” She smiled. “I enjoyed chatting with you today.” Her eyes shifted around the room anxiously.
“Let’s grab a drink, what do you say? Something a little more festive than coffee,” I offered.
“That would be great.” She smiled at me, relaxing her shoulders.
There was some kind of holiday punch in a bowl, which seemed like the most festive choice, so I scooped out two cups for us and handed her one. “This looks like Christmas, so let’s give it a try,” I said.
“Thank you.”
We walked over to a quieter corner of the foyer area, near one of the many Christmas trees in the home, and I leaned up against the wall. “So, Christmas isn’t really your thing, is it?” Her eyes widened while she took a sip of the punch. Clearly, I’d hit the nail on the head. “It’s okay you know. You can feel however you want about the holidays.”
“It’s not that I don’t like Christmas. It’s just …” She paused.
“But it brings up bad memories?” I offered.
“Well, yeah.”
“Happens to a lot of people. We associate things with each other. It’s human nature. It’s like how some people don’t like the smell of a certain alcohol because they almost died in a field drinking underage. That shit can stick with you forever.” I smiled, hoping my analogy made sense.
She laughed. “That’s exactly what it’s like.”
“Sometimes, you just need new memories to create a new association.”
“I never really looked at it that way,” she replied.
“You want to take off?” I asked.
“You mean leave?” she asked.
“Yeah, let’s get out of here. We can go walk around. It’s not insanely cold tonight, and you appear to have the proper attire for a walk.” He grinned.
“What about your daughter?” I asked.
“Hang on for just a second.” I took off, leaving her there briefly. I found Robin and asked her if she’d take Emily with them to the next few houses. For the kids, it was basically a cookie tour of the neighborhood, and Emily wasn’t going to miss me now that she’d found her friends. Robin grinned at me knowingly, and I just gave her a little shrug and she agreed. I told Emily I was going to go for a walk with my new friend and that she could stick with the girls. She was more than happy to see me later.
I went back over to Samantha, who was right where I had left her. She was watching the families mingle, and saying hello to the folks who were walking past her on their way in. “Oh, there you are. I’ve turned into the holiday-greeting committee,” she said with a smile when I approached her with my coat in hand.
“Told you I’d be right back. Let’s get out of here.” I took the cup from her hand and set it on a nearby tray and then led her outside. There was still quite a chill in the air, but the wind had died down, so it was calm and fresh. Not biting like it could be this time of year. “Are you warm enough?” I asked her as we made our way down the driveway.
“I am. I guess I’m getting used to it after a few days,” she replied.
“All the socializing and group activities can be a lot. Especially if you’re not used to all these people,” I said.
“Yeah, that is true. I work by myself, so I tend to have a fairly quiet life. Sometimes all of the hullabaloo of the holidays can be a bit much.”
“I get it,” I replied.
We walked through the neighborhood, most of the houses covered in lights. Their doors opening and closing with visitors coming and going. Samantha was quiet but seemed to be enjoying the peaceful walk. I led us toward the square, which wasn’t particularly far away.
“I don’t hate Christmas.”
“I never said you did.” I smiled and nudged her.
“Okay, no, you didn’t. But you think I do. I’m not a scrooge or anything.”
“You are far too pretty to be a scrooge,” I replied. She let out a little giggle. I’d hoped that she could see that I had no intention of pressuring her into telling me anything she didn’t want to and that she realized that it was just a walk, away from the crowd. Nothing more.
“Christmas was a huge deal in our house growing up,” she offered.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. My parents went all out. It was a lot of fun. I always looked forward to it. It used to be my favorite time of year.”
“So what changed?” I asked, hoping she was ready to give me a hint.
“Christmas was always the big thing. It was the celebration of the year for our family. My parents did all kinds of crazy things to celebrate. When they died, I just didn’t want to celebrate it anymore. That probably seems a bit much, right?”
“No, it doesn’t.”
“No?” she asked.
“Not to me. Your feelings are just that. They’re your feelings. Who’s to say how you should or shouldn’t feel? Loss affects everyone differently. Do I think you should make some new Christmas memories? Sure I do. But whether or not you do that is totally up to you.”
I led us toward the gazebo in the middle of the square. It was empty and completely lit up. When you stood inside of it with all the lights shining, it felt like being inside of a Christmas ornament to me. A glow surrounded you, and from a three-hundred-and-sixty-degree angle, you could look all around the town as if you were inside of a viewing window made just for you. “Come on.”
I took her arm in mine to lead her inside the gazebo and positioned her square in the middle. I wouldn’t have discovered this little trick, had my daughter not pointed it out to me. “Now spin around slowly and tell me what you see.”
She looked at me with skepticism, pursing her lips slightly. “What am I looking for?”
I laughed. “You’re not looking for anything, Sam. Just look.”
She humored me and started to spin slowly. The shimmering lights bounced off her blond hair, and as she twirled around, she looked like an angel.
“So what do you see?” I asked.
Still twirling slowly, she replied. “I see a toy store. I see the bank. I see an ice cream shop and bakery.” She stopped twirling. “This is silly. What am I supposed to see?”
I stepped up behind her and pulled her gently into me and started to spin us both slowly. “Here’s what I see,” I whispered. “I see Mrs. Manor’s flowerbed filled with little wooden snowmen, where there’s always flowers in the spring. I see a rocking horse in the toyshop window, which reminds me of a simpler time when toys weren’t so complicated. I see snow art drawn on the window of the bank with that weird spray snow. It reminds me of powdered sugar on cookies.” She softened into me, and I stopped spinning and turned her around to face me.
A soft smile appeared on her face. “I guess maybe I needed someone to show me a little.”
“Well, there’s one other thing I have to show you right now.” I grinned and pointed above us. Honestly, I hadn’t even planned it, but there was mistletoe hanging from the center of the gazebo. I was still holding on to her, and she hadn’t let go, either, as her eyes averted overhead as well.
She lowered her head back down and then smirked. “What the hell,” she said as she raised herself up on her toes, pressing her lips softly to mine.
Chapter Eleven
Samantha
So I kissed a stranger. I gue
ss he wasn’t really a stranger by then. But pretty damn close. After all was said and done, he opened my heart up, and I genuinely started to feel like the holidays could be different. I was already making some new memories.
We sat outside, just enjoying the crisp, cool air for hours. He asked me all about myself. What I loved about my job, what I loved about my life. I told him my favorite Christmas memories with my parents. The flamingos—I told him all about those silly flamingos—and for the first time in five years, I reminisced without anguish. I relished in sharing my stories, instead of dreading the return of their memory.
We walked back toward the houses, and I had a spring in my step. I felt lighter. Many of the families had gone back home, including my own. They’d taken Emily back with them, and it seems that my sister and Jason had arranged via text that he’d bring me back home where he could then pick up his little girl.
On the walk back, he’d casually reached for my hand, which I willingly nestled into his. I hadn’t felt so connected and at peace with someone in as long as I could remember. Just the two of us, without all of the chaos, all the noise of the holidays, was calming.
When we arrived back at my sister’s house, the little girls were all dead asleep in the living room. With three tiny, little bodies amassed by innumerable pillows, it looked like they’d passed out in the middle of playing.
“Hey guys,” my sister whispered when we walked in. “They finally crashed from all the sugar,” she joked.
“They look so peaceful,” I said.
“It’s a trick. When they wake up, the chaos begins again,” Jason said.
“Jason, if you want, Emily can sleep here tonight. I’m going to let the girls camp out in the living room. It’s vacation, after all. I can bring her by tomorrow after breakfast?” Robin suggested.
“Are you sure? I don’t want her to be an inconvenience, Robin,” he replied.
“Once you have two eight-year-olds, you may as well have ten. It’s no trouble at all. Besides, they’re all sacked out anyway.”
“Okay, that would be great. Thanks, Robin.”
“You’re welcome.” Her eyes shifted to me and back to him again. “I’m going to head off to bed myself. You two have a good night now.” She grinned knowingly, which was completely embarrassing. I suddenly felt like a teenager who was doing something she shouldn’t be.
“I should head home myself,” Jason said. Robin walked off to her room, and I could hear the door shutting softly. He turned to me, taking my hands in his. “I had a really good time tonight. I’d like to see you again. You’ll be at the concert tomorrow night?”
“I will,” I replied. Nervousness washed over me, and I could feel my face getting warm.
“So, until tomorrow,” he said just before leaning down to kiss me. It was a deep kiss, the kind that tangled up your insides and made your knees weak. I steadied myself, placing my hands against his chest.
As he pulled away to leave, I opened my eyes, taking him in. His dark hair contrasted with his light eyes, and he seemed to be thinking something he didn’t want to say. “What is it?” I asked.
“I don’t want to go,” he replied, a broad smile forming.
I grinned back shamelessly. He was so handsome, and his charm was downright captivating.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I said.
“Okay, okay.” He pulled away and then leaned in for one more quick kiss.
“Get out of here!” I pretended to shove him out.
“Good night, Sam,” he said as he walked away.
I shut the door gently, and then leaned up against it and put my face in my hands. I wanted to squeal. My heart was racing, and I practically danced my way back to my room.
The next morning when I walked into the kitchen, Robin was already up and sitting at the counter drinking her coffee and reading something on her phone. The girls were awake, and having pancakes at the table, giggling and laughing about something.
“Well, hey there, sister,” she said mischievously.
“Good morning,” I replied with a sly smile.
“I trust you had a good evening?” she asked.
“I did indeed.” I walked over to the coffeepot to pour myself a cup.
“So, give me the scoop. Come on!” She was done playing games with me, and it was hysterical.
“The scoop? On what?” I teased.
She slapped my arm gently. “Come on!”
“What do you want to know?” I asked. I wasn’t sure what to say really. I had an absolutely wonderful night, with a wonderful man, who lives a thousand miles away from my house. That was the truth of the matter.
“You two seemed cozy last night,” she said.
“We went for a walk, and then we talked out by the gazebo for a while. We had a really nice evening.”
“And?” she pleaded.
“And what?”
“Did you kiss him? You kissed him, didn’t you? Give me all the details!” she demanded.
“A lady never kisses and tells,” I replied coyly.
“She tells her sister dammit!”
I couldn’t help but to laugh. Robin was on the edge of her seat, she was dying for information, and I couldn’t deny her any longer.
“We kissed. Under the mistletoe in the gazebo. It was like a movie, Robin. It couldn’t have been a more perfect moment in time. But it doesn’t mean anything—I mean, come on.”
“What do you mean it doesn’t mean anything? Of course it means something. That’s Jason frigging Hayes, Samantha! He’s only the most eligible bachelor in Friendship. And you had a little Christmas kiss with him under the mistletoe. That’s something,” she insisted.
“Robin, I live a thousand miles away. It was just a kiss.” I was lying to myself. It wasn’t just a kiss. It was a brand-new Christmas memory. For the first time in a long time, the idea of a Christmas memory made me smile.
“It’s never just a kiss,” she said.
“Well, this time it was. It can’t go anywhere. I’m going home right after Christmas. To Florida, where I live. You remember? Palm trees, sunshine, a distinct lack of snow?”
“Uh-huh. Whatever, Sam. You can tell yourself that all you want, but I know you.”
“What does that even mean?” I asked, intrigued.
“It means that you don’t go around kissing people at random. And especially not at Christmas. It’s a goddamn Christmas miracle!” she exclaimed.
“Oh my God, Robin, shut up.”
“It’s a blessing. Like the baby Jesus,” she teased.
“I cannot even believe we’re related,” I said, rolling my eyes dramatically. She was cracking me up to be honest, but I wasn’t going to give in.
“Oh, we are related. And I know you. Better than anyone else. You like him,” she said, quite matter of factly.
“I can’t deal with you right now.” I started to laugh.
“Oh, but you can. And you will. Because I’m your sister, and you’re stuck with me,” she said in singsong fashion.
“Good lord.” I let out a small giggle. “I’m going to shower. What’s on the agenda for today?”
“Today, we are lounging. I’m done with work through the holidays, and the girls have their concert tonight. So, tonight will be about those shenanigans. But until then, we have no obligations whatsoever, which pleases me to no end. That work for you?”
“That sounds amazing actually. Wanna bake more cookies?” I asked.
“Well, of course I do. It’s the holidays. We’re gonna go ahead and get fat and nap after we get high on sugar, before we do it all over again.”
“Sounds like the best day ever.”
I sat down with my coffee and listened to the girls talking and laughing. The house felt warm and inviting. I was relaxed and genuinely happy, which I can’t say I’d felt in years. Part of me knew it would have to come to an end, but I decided that very moment, that while I was in Friendship, I would enjoy all it had to offer. Including one very rugged and handsome pi
lot-slash-mechanic.
Chapter Twelve
Jason
That night couldn’t have turned out better if I’d planned every bit of it myself. I didn’t, though, and considered myself lucky as hell. Deep down, I wasn’t really sure where it was going with Samantha, but it felt right. I had felt some kind of pull to her and then a push from Gabe, and that propelled me toward her at almost top speed. How Gabe knew was still lost on me. There was no way that he figured this out on his own simply by being a good listener. I didn’t really care what it was. I felt good, and I was going to enjoy it.
The next day when Robin came to drop Emily off, she teased me a little bit but then helped me plan a surprise for Samantha. It was outrageous and required a ton of legwork, but the wheels were already in motion. Robin couldn’t believe what I was planning.
“Wait, you’ve already found a place to get plastic flamingos in December, a week before Christmas? How is that even possible?” she asked me.
“I have a buddy who’s in the business of getting people what they need,” I joked with her as if I had to call the mob or something. In reality, if you’re willing to pay, you can get almost anything you need. Besides the fact that it’s the season of giving, and people wanted to help me make Christmas wonderful for someone special.
“What about the hats?” she asked.
“That’s where I need your help,” I replied.
“Okay, what can I do?”
“I need you to get me two hundred Santa hats.”
“Two hundred?” she repeated. “That’s a lot of Santa hats, Jason. Where am I going to get that many?”
“Call the moms club and initiate the emergency phone tree,” I replied, completely serious.
“You want me to initiate the phone tree for Santa hats?”
“I do. Someone in Friendship needs their Christmas spirit brought back. I consider that an emergency. There are at least twenty moms on that list, and me of course. Hell, we can make them if we have to. Whatever it takes. The flamingos need hats.”