Chapter Twenty-Four
Today, December thirteenth, was my birthday, but since all of the Frost sisters’ birthdays were in December, we usually celebrated together with a spa day. This year was no different. Zave was out of town with games again for a couple of days. He sent me a box of my favorite See’s dark Bordeaux chocolates, and the most incredible, snuggly soft Denver-Nugget-blue, feather pillow with a note.
Happy birthday, Lovely Lady.
You and Tatum save me a few chocolates.
This pillow is so you can hug it instead of me while I’m away.
I love you,
Zave.
That night, as I waited for his call, I nestled into my birthday pillow and felt something hard. I looked closely at the pillow and saw an opening in the seam at one side. Reaching in, I found a box.
Hands trembling, I opened the box to find the most beautiful pastel-pink diamond surrounded with white diamonds, hanging on a rose gold chain. Taking it gently out, I watched the exquisite pale pink and white stones flash in the soft light from the lamp on my nightstand.
The phone rang.
“Happy birthday, Lovely Lady.”
“Oh, thank you Zave. I found the necklace. It’s absolutely gorgeous! Diamonds are my favorite, and pink ones are exquisite. You’re spoiling me, for sure.”
“Good, you deserve to be spoiled, and I want the job.” I could hear the smile in his voice. This was better than a fairytale.
****
On Saturday afternoon before Christmas, there was a knock on the door. I peeked through the side window and saw a floral delivery truck out front.
I opened the door. A breeze of cold winter air chilled me to the bone within the first few seconds.
“Flowers for Ms. Noelle Frost and a Ms. Tatum Frost.” A young man handed me two boxes. I grabbed my purple bag, gave him a tip, thanked him, and closed the door. I loved surprises.
“Tatum. Come here, sweetie. There’s a surprise for us.”
Tatum had been lying on the area rug watching Scooby Doo. She bounced into the dining room as I set the boxes on the table.
“Who’s it from?” She bopped around with excitement.
“Hmm…” I read the label. “Zave, I mean Tree.” I smiled at her. “Here, this one’s for you. Shall we open them at the same time?”
She nodded.
“One, two, three!” we shouted as we pulled the stretchy gold strings off the boxes and lifted the lids.
I gasped. A bouquet of lovely baby pink roses, twenty-four of them, with one full-sized white rose in the middle which seemed to smile up at me.
Tatum bounced up and down as she clapped her little hands. Her box held a bunch of yellow daisies.
I only needed to help her with “favorite” and “brighten” as she read her card by herself.
“To Tatum, my favorite little lady. These remind me of you. You brighten my day just because you are you. Love, Tree.
“They’re so pretty, Mommy.” She touched a petal softly.
“Zave’s right. They remind me of you, too—pretty and happy.” I gave her a big hug and then read my card out loud.
“To my favorite lady, I know you love baby pink roses…and…I love you. Love, Zave. P.S. Be ready for an adventure. Sometimes the best surprises are hidden in plain sight.”
“Be ready for an adventure” and “surprises are hidden in plain sight” were nothing but riddles, and I was usually pretty good at riddles, but this time I had no clue. I’d ask him tonight when he called.
“Come on, my darling girl. Let’s find a couple of vases from under the kitchen sink and get these lovely flowers in some water.”
Tatum mimicked me and carefully picked up her flowers. We walked side by side to the kitchen. I let her help trim the stems before we placed each of our flowers one-by-one in the vases.
“Mommy?” Tatum paused and looked up at me, eyes wide. “Is Tree going to be my daddy?”
This could be a minefield. Not sure what to say, I fell back on the method of answering a question by asking a question. “Do you want him to be your daddy?”
“Well, Cassidy has a daddy and a mommy. Hunter has a daddy, but no mommy. He says he wants one, and he still wishes you’d marry his dad, but I tolded him that you can’t because Tree wouldn’t like it.” She rambled as she picked up another daisy, carefully snipped off an inch with her little scissors, and added it to her vase.
“Charlie and Micah and Mitchell have Aunt Joy, but, Mommy, they need a daddy, too.” Tatum had puppy-dog eyes and sounded sad. Then within a flash, she cheered up and added, “I saw you kissing Tree, so now you have to marry him. He would be the awesomest daddy.” She spoke as if it were a done deal.
I laughed. I liked her logic. Five-year-olds pretty much had life all figured out.
“You and I are a team, and we always will be. It’s good to know that you’re happy with us letting Tree on our team…if that happens.” My voice trailed off. I thought of a future with Zave in it. My heart raced and warmth flooded my body from head to toe.
I wrapped my arms around my little girl and gave her a squeeze. Knowing that she wanted Zave in our lives made the situation somewhat simpler.
We spent the rest of the day cleaning the house, buying groceries, and having a picnic on a blanket while we watched more Scooby Doo. At bedtime, we said prayers, then snuggled on her bed for story time, our favorite time of the day.
She chose to read Cinderella. She could read most of the words herself. I laid my head by hers and listened to her sweet, sing-songy voice. I won the mother jackpot with such a wonderful little daughter.
My mind jumped back to the note delivered with the roses. “Be ready for an adventure.” That could be fun. “Sometimes the best surprises are hidden in plain sight.” Zave must have a special date planned for us.
“Mommy, what is this word?” Tatum snapped me out of my musings.
“Umm, it’s ‘cackled.’ ‘The stepmother cackled.’ It’s kind of a loud, annoying laugh that sounds like a chicken.”
“Oh, okay,” she continued to read. “The stepmother cackled, and then locked Cinderella in her attic bedroom. Cinderella sat on the floor and cried big tears. Two little mice climbed onto her lap. There was a knock at the front door. Mommy, there was a knock at the door.” She tapped my shoulder.
“What?” I yawned. I must have dozed off.
“There’s a knock at the door,” Tatum said again.
“Uh-huh. Then it says, ‘Cinderella looked out the attic window.’ ”
“Mommy. There’s a knock at our door.” She looked at me and giggled.
Sure enough, I heard a knock.
Who could be here this late? I hoped nothing was wrong with one of my sisters. A rush of alarm ran through my body, revving up for a possible emergency. I moved toward Tatum’s bedroom window.
Tatum started to get up.
“No, honey, stay in bed,” I cautioned her.
Moving the curtains aside, I saw a giant of a man—my giant of a man, standing on my front porch. My chest became a bell and my heart the chime bouncing around. “It’s Tree.”
She pushed her covers down.
“No, sweetie, it’s past your bedtime. You can see him tomorrow. I’ll leave the lamp on so you can read for a few more minutes, then go to sleep. I’ll check on you in a little while.” I kissed her on her forehead and headed downstairs, heart all twitter-pated.
Chapter Twenty-Five
I opened the door. He reached in and pulled me into his arms. “I missed you,” he said as he hugged me, and then bent his head down to capture my lips with his. After a very thorough kiss, he lifted me up and carried me in, then settled on the couch with me in his lap. I giggled like a little schoolgirl.
“What are you doing here? I thought you weren’t coming back until tomorrow night,” I asked breathlessly as I looked at him with my arms encircling his neck. A whiff of fresh limes filled the air.
“I got the okay from Coach to fly in earlier th
an the team. Did you get the flowers I sent you and Tatum?”
“Yes. They’re lovely! Tatum’s, too. These are her first flowers. She felt so grown up.” He watched my lips as I talked, then tipped his head down as if he needed another taste. After a few more moments of soft lips and silence, he pulled away slightly and looked at me. I could see the question in his eyes.
“What?” I asked him, confused.
“Are you sure you got my flowers? The tiny pink roses and one big white one?” his voice sounded anxious.
“Yes, I’m sure. They’re in a vase on the kitchen table.”
“Did you see the card?” His eyebrows pinched in.
“Yes, of course. I read it several times. I’ll never get enough of you telling me you love me.” I paused to kiss his cheek and then added, “But I didn’t have a clue about the rest of it. What adventure? And a hidden surprise in plain sight? I’m totally lost.” I touched his forehead, trying to smooth the worry lines. At my touch, his face started to relax.
“May I see the flowers?”
“Uhh…yes.” He was acting a little strange. The flowers were beautiful, but he seemed obsessed with them.
He stood up with me still cradled in his arms, then gently set me down. He took my hand as we walked into the kitchen.
“Here they are.” I pulled them nearer to the edge of the table.
Zave bent over and looked at them closely. I watched as he removed the white rose. He held it close to his face and wiggled it around a little, then smiled.
Okay, this guy is almost certifiable—adorable and charming, but certifiable.
“Come with me.” He gently took my hand again and led me back to the family room couch. I sat and then scooted over to make room for him. Instead, he handed me the white rose, then bent over the hearth and started a fire. Once the paper and wood caught, he knelt in front of me on one knee.
“Open it,” he said quietly, his green eyes midnight-moss colored in the soft light.
I looked at the rose. “Open the rose?”
“Uh-huh.” He nodded his head.
I shrugged and said, “All righty, then,” my sharp vocabulary rising to the challenge. I carefully pulled the petals apart. The light from the fire flashed. I stopped and looked up at him. The expression on his face was one of sheer anticipation, as if he were a boy expecting his first basketball.
“What do you see?” he asked with excitement.
I looked back at the rose. As I pulled another petal away from the center, I gasped. There, nestled deep in the rose, was a ring. Not just any ring, but a ring that sparkled white and pink.
With shaking hands, I lifted it out and held it up close to my face, dumbfounded. It was the most beautiful ring I’d ever seen. A large, white, oval diamond sat in the center, surrounded by smaller pink diamonds. More pink diamonds, this time bevel-set, ran down both sides of the band made of pink gold. The light of the fire danced off the diamonds as I held it out in front of my face.
I quivered with excitement, and the ring seemed to glow.
Zave grinned wide, then readjusted his knee as if to brace himself. He cupped my face with his hands and kissed me butterfly soft.
“Sweetheart, I’m willing to keep proving to you for the rest of my life that I’m a good guy and will always treat you with kindness and respect—Tatum, too. I promise to always have integrity and never betray our love…Noelle Belle Frost…will you marry me? Forever?” He looked deep into my eyes. His eyes seemed to sparkle bright green.
Tears streamed down my face. “Yes.”
Zave gently took the ring from my shaking hand and slid it onto my fourth finger on my left hand.
He leaned over and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me up as he stood. His kiss was soft at first, then deeper. My entire body tingled. This was more than a honey kiss—it was a crème brulée kiss—the sweetest, most lovely of kisses. I realized then and there that I was in for a delectable feast of kisses from now on.
Footsteps interrupted us.
Tatum jumped into our arms, breaking up that most delicious kiss of all time as she sang, “We’re getting married. We’re getting married!”
Zave lifted me up, too, and spun us in circles as we all sang, “We’re getting married. We’re getting married. We’re getting married…”
This was going to be the best Christmas ever. Zave’s love had opened up a healing door for me. He had unlocked my heart and my soul.
All three of us laughed as Zave put us down.
Tatum looked up and asked, “Can we get married on Christmas?”
Zave looked at me.
“That’s pretty quick to pull a wedding together. How about if we wait until the next holiday—Valentines?” I joked.
“Oh, yes!” Tatum squealed.
“Perfect, and you two lovely ladies can be my Valentines,” Zave agreed.
“And you’re our Christmas miracle.” I smiled back at him, just before he bent over and gave Tatum a kiss on her forehead. Then he gave me another delicious kiss. This one was a Christmas sugar plum kiss.
To continue the story of the Frost sisters with the third book of the series, look for…
Holly’s Heart
by
Melinda Sanchez
Here’s how it begins:
Chapter One
Tiny sparkles in the tile reflected light in the dim hallway as I passed between rooms. Numerous vital checks and a dozen doses of medicine later, I welcomed a ten-minute break before I tackled the paperwork—mounds and mounds of paperwork.
The door to the employee lounge expelled a soft gush of air as I entered, looking to quiet my hunger pangs with a stale treat from the vending machine. I peered closely to choose between an apple and a strawberry granola bar, and someone came up from behind and poked me in the ribs. I let out a squeal and spun around to the laughing face of my co-worker, Alice. We cupped our hands over our mouths. If we woke the patients at three o’clock in the morning, we would spend the next several hours getting them all settled again.
“What are you thinking? You’ll get us both fired,” I whispered.
Alice stood half a head shorter than me and her curls bobbed as she stifled her giggle. “You almost jumped a mile.”
“You almost gave me a heart attack.”
“Well, you are in the right place for it, anyway. But what are you doing working another night shift, Holly? You work more overtime and late shifts than any nurse I know. You have seniority, you know.”
“There’s such a high demand in pediatrics. They needed someone.”
“Ehh—like I said, you are covering for this shift too much. Maybe you need someone, Holly. Someone at home you don’t want to leave at night.”
I smiled. “My cat? Oh, she’s fine. But seriously, sometimes I want to be here late like this.”
“Yeah, right.” She smirked.
“I do, especially here in pediatrics. The empty quiet is too spooky for some of these kids. Their little whispery voices and soft, pudgy hands get to me. I like giving comfort in the middle of their lonely nights.”
Alice and I both looked over in surprise when someone sat up on the couch in the back of the lounge.
“You need a man, honey. Good—bad—it don’t matter, as long as it’s a man.”
I looked into the plump face and dark eyes of our nurse’s aide, Mrs. Torres, and put my hands on my hips. “I’ve got people sneaking up on me all over in this place. I didn’t know it would be so scary in here.”
She shook her head. “No, honey, you need to hear what I say. You want to give comfort so much? That means you need comfort. You need a man.”
I cleared my throat and pushed the hair that had come loose from my ponytail back behind my ear. “Ha. Well, you may be right. But nowadays I wonder if I’d be better off to forget men altogether.”
Her eyes narrowed, and she pursed her lips. “Oh dear, you got it worse than I feared. You are in love with a man who breaks your heart.” She wiggled to her feet. “I�
�ve been an aide here a long, long time, and I seen you come and go, come and go all the time. You are too lonely, Miss Holly.”
My words froze for a moment before I opened my mouth to protest again, sure that I’d given her the wrong impression. But she walked up shaking her head and waved her hand in front of my face to shush me.
“You stare in space with those big eyes like that; I know what I see.” She scribbled something on the back of a patient’s menu card someone had left on the coffee table and handed it back to me. “Here is my number. My Pablo is not married. He is going bald and is a little lazy, but he has a good heart.”
The breakroom door closed behind Mrs. Torres when she left, and Alice and I had our hands over our mouths again, stifling a laugh.
“I didn’t know I was so transparent,” I whispered.
Alice’s eyes widened before she headed out of the lounge. “You better watch out; Pablo may show up during your shift with a bouquet of roses one of these days.”
I laughed and shook my head before I turned back to the vending machine. Mrs. Torres loved to mother the young nurses, but at age twenty-eight, I’d certainly learned a few things about my own life and knew my own feelings. There was no way I was “transparent” because of a broken heart. Those days were long gone, sewn up and tossed, wrapped and buried, resolved and finished. Fini, as I’d learned to say in France last year.
I chose the strawberry granola bar and washed it down with bottled water. It hit my stomach in a lump.
A word about the author…
Cindy R. Williams, a born storyteller, grew up in Utah, surrounded by lilacs and creating magical worlds with her big sister and little brother. She had aspirations of becoming a mermaid and imagines mystic lands where good prevails and all are safe and free.
Cindy took time out of her magical world to graduate Brigham Young University. In her years on this planet, she has been a state gymnast, a lifeguard, in an all-girl rock band called Fancy Hardware, the Membership Director of KBYU-TV, a professional harpist and a teacher of guitar, ukulele, piano, and harp. She is a member of ANWA, American Night Writers Association.
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