Christmas Connection

by Daria White

  Bailey's lips parted. “I don't think I've ever heard that before.”

  He pressed his forehead against hers. “I think it's about time you did.”

  Bailey touched her hands to his chest. Heat singed Jackson’s skin despite the thick layers in his coat.

  “I don't know what's happening here, Bailey,” he said. It was true. His heart palpitated as heat rose up his back.

  “Me neither.” She lifted her chin.

  Jackson's breath hitched as he inched closer to her full lips. The lips of a woman whose voice touched his soul.

  “Bailey?”

  Jackson blinked to see another woman coming up behind Bailey. Bailey groaned. Did she not care for this woman interrupting them? At the moment, Jackson wasn't fond of her either.

  “I thought that was you,” the woman said.

  Bailey hugged her. “Kenya.” Her voice sounded annoyed. “What brings you here?”

  Kenya held up a shopping bag. “I had some last minute Christmas shopping. Imagine my surprise to see you here. Who's this?”

  Jackson extended his hand. “Jackson Mills.”

  A slow smile built on the woman's lips. “Kenya Williams, I'm Bailey's cousin. I hope I wasn't interrupting.”

  “I was just leaving.” Bailey straightened her scarf.

  “Not by the way you two were hugging.” Kenya grinned. “I see why you didn't want to—”

  “Don't you have to get home and wrap those presents?” Bailey's nostrils flared.

  Jackson cleared his throat. “Bailey and I sing together in a band.”

  Bailey coughed.

  “Seriously, Bailey? You wouldn't even sing at my parents' anniversary party.” Kenya raised an eyebrow. She didn't look convinced.

  Bailey looped her arm through Jackson's. “I'm turning over a new leaf, in more ways than one.”

  “I'll believe it when I see it,” Kenya said.

  “We'll be performing this weekend. Bailey's amazing.” Jackson felt her tighten her grip around his arm but he continued.

  “I have to see this performance for myself.” Kenya looked over at Bailey and hugged her. “I'm calling you later for more info.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “See you soon, cousin.” With that, she walked away.

  Bailey released Jackson's arm. She pressed her gloved hands to her cheeks. “Why did I do that?”

  “To shut her up?” Jackson asked.

  Bailey dropped her hands from her face. “Not like that. We're close, but I haven't told my family about the band... or you.”

  “Because?”

  “I don't know. I wanted to think things through first.”

  He did too. “I understand.”

  “Are you close to your family?”

  He nodded. “I talk to my sister when I can. Parents retired in Costa Rica.”

  “Lawyers?”

  “Doctors. So imagine their surprise when their son became a musician.”

  “They don't support you?” Bailey asked.

  Jackson stuffed his hands inside his pockets. “They do, but...”

  “But what?” she asked.

  Jackson swallowed. “My brother wanted to be a musician too.”

  Her eyebrows squished together. “I thought you said you had a sister.”

  He nodded. “I had an older brother.”

  “Had?” Her eyes widened. “I'm so sorry, Jackson.”

  A quiet hush passed between them. Jackson then tugged at his ear. “We were on our way home. He picked me up from band practice. Some idiot was speeding and ran through a red light and hit us on the driver's side.”

  Bailey touched a hand to his arm.

  Jackson continued. “Tony died at the scene.”

  “I can't imagine,” Bailey said.

  It wasn't his fault. No matter how many times the truth rang in his ears, why didn't Jackson believe it still? He stared at his feet. He'd make it up to Tony. One of them had to make it in music. He'd do it for him.

  Jackson focused his eyes on Bailey once more. “It's okay. Let's go to rehearsal before you change your mind.”

  Her eyebrows furrowed. “Are you sure you're okay?”

  “I'm good.” His gaze then centered on her. “Thanks for singing with us.”

  “I'm just filling in. I can't promise anything.”

  “I'm glad you changed your mind.” He nodded his head after her cousin. “Was it her?”

  Bailey shook her head. “No. I'm... I'm doing this for myself. I can't stay long. I have a late client at the salon.”

  He extended his hand. “Let's do what we can today and work out the rest later.”

  “Okay.”

  Chapter 7

  “You talk to her today?” Tommy asked.

  Jackson wiped the corner of his mouth as he heard the ding of the cash register. He could get used to the smoky meats, soft yet crusty bread, and sweet desserts at Bridge Point's deli. After wiping the chip salt dusting his fingers, he crumpled his napkin in his hand. “Not yet.”

  “You sure about this? I know online is a thing but—”

  “I'm being cautious if that's what you mean.”

  “That's all I'm saying. She’s a great singer, but we don’t need another Robin,” Tommy said.

  “Trust me. She’s far from Robin.” That was a fact.

  “Okay. I’ll talk to you later.”

  Jackson hung up, but his phone remained in his hand. Was Bailey on a lunch break? He didn't know her schedule at the salon, but it couldn't hurt to call her.

  “How did you know?” she asked when she answered.

  “Know what?” Jackson smiled.

  She cleared her throat. “I said that out loud?”

  “Yeah. What did you want to say?”

  “Nothing. How are you?”

  “I'm great. Is this a bad time? I won't keep you from work,” he said.

  Bailey giggled. “I'm in the break room, so no. I have some time in between clients. Where are you?”

  “Having lunch at the deli.”

  “I love their sandwiches,” she said.

  Jackson could picture her smile. “I think I'm a new fan too.” He rubbed the back of his head.

  “Are you okay?” she asked. “Something wrong?”

  Jackson cleared his table of trash and threw it away in a nearby trash bin. What did he want to say? “Not sure.”

  “You want to talk?”

  Talk about what? Did it matter that he saw himself with her? While they were different, they were the same. Their love of music. Their dreams of a better future.

  “What have you always wanted to say?” Bailey asked.

  Jackson exited the deli, hearing the bell chime above his head. He walked down the sidewalk hearing the brittle crunching of snow with his footsteps. Thick layers of it accumulated on the roofs of the various businesses, cars, and the walkways.

  “The truth?” Why did he want to tell her everything? He couldn't. What if she used it against him later? Was she worth him opening up to? Could he trust her? The gnawing feeling in his gut told him he could. Within the first hour of them talking on the phone, he knew there was something different about Bailey.

  “Yes,” she said.

  “I guess with music... I wonder if it's what I want sometimes.”

  “Don't you love it?”

  “I do, but... so did my brother. I wonder if it's his...” he said. He rubbed at his chest as the sensation of his heavy heart increased. He'd never forget the bruising pain.

  “His what?” Bailey asked.

  Jackson paused at a light post decorated with garland snaked around it. He sighed. This was too much too soon. “One day I'll tell you.”

  ****

  Bridge Point had its sights but Bailey loved the lake. Her eyes stared at the dark skeletal trees edged in white, as she sipped her hot chocolate. Her fingers tingled along with her toes, but she couldn't deny her love for the winter.

  In the last few weeks, her life changed. She would have invited Jackson to her favorite
spot, but she needed time to think. The more she sang with the band, the more she contemplated quitting her mother's salon. While she loved her customers, Bailey didn't want to be there for the rest of her life. Would her mother support her decision if she quit?

  The band members were great. She loved the music, including the original songs Jackson taught her. She smiled at the thought of him. Then her eyebrows furrowed. Did she know him from somewhere? Why did he seem so familiar? Was it their connection?

  She blinked. She didn't know him. He was a random connection online. Online. She went online to find a date. What would her family think? Thank goodness Kenya didn’t pry with questions. It was a matter of time though, despite swearing her cousin to secrecy.

  Why did she care? Jackson wasn't a bad guy. In fact, he proved to be a gentleman. Would that change the longer she got to know him? Would he change in the next few months? People always showed their best side in the beginning. Would it end?

  Her cell rang, and Bailey jumped. Thankfully, she didn't spill her hot cocoa.

  “Hey?” she said.

  “You're not busy are you?” Jackson asked.

  “No. Enjoying my day off. How are you?”

  “I'm okay. Out and about. This weather is no joke.”

  “I thought you liked snow.” She leaned over the bridge, watching as the sun set. The rays reflected off the frozen water. Still as a mirror.

  “I do but it's freezing.”

  She giggled. “What did you expect? I love it. It's not Christmas to me without snow.”

  “Let it snow. Let it snow. Let it snow.”

  Bailey smiled at his singing voice.

  “Is that you?”

  Bailey turned to see him walking along the frozen shoreline. Jackson hung up and joined her on the bridge. She stuffed her phone inside her coat pocket.

  “Are you following me?” she asked.

  “I think you're stalking me.” He then nudged her shoulder.

  Bailey laughed. “I came here to enjoy the sunset. I love it out here.”

  “I bet it looks great in the summer.”

  “It's great during the winter too. We used to skate out here all the time as kids. Noelle, my best friend and I, would come here during the Christmas break.”

  Jackson looked around. “I don't see any skaters out here.”

  “Bridge Point has a rink now, so it's safer. I come here whenever I want to think.”

  “Good memories here?”

  “Some.” Bailey swallowed the last of her hot chocolate. “How long have you lived here?”

  “About a year. Bridge Point is cool,” Jackson said. “We lived here when I was a kid.”

  Bailey smiled. “And we never ran into each other.”

  His voice lowered. “I guess we weren’t supposed to until now.”

  Bailey ignored a shiver. “And you lived here at one point?” He said that already. Great. This man made her brain scatter.

  “It wasn't for long, but I remember some things about this town.”

  “I hope you make memories here that you never forget,” Bailey said. Did she say that aloud? Yes. Tingles swept up the back of her neck and across her face. “I mean I hope you like it here.”

  Jackson leaned closer, with a smile building on his full lips. “Do I make you nervous?”

  She shook her head. “No, not really.”

  He edged closer. “Do you know why I came here?”

  She stared forward. “Why?”

  “To figure out why I can't get you out of my mind,” he said.

  Bailey turned to face him. His firm eye contact centered on her. When Jackson licked his lips, she felt a shifting feeling in her heart. When he bent closer to her, she didn't flinch.

  Jackson kissed her, and then he drew back. Bailey froze in place. He leaned in once more, and she closed her eyes. He kissed her again and a sensation of hair-raising on her neck took over. Jackson then moved his hands over the back of her neck. Bailey took her free hand and splayed her gloved fingers across his back.

  He didn't rush their kiss but took his time lingering his lips over hers. Did Bailey's knees shake? She couldn't tell. Her chest was fluttering. Lost in his kiss, Bailey lost all sense of time. He knocked the breath from her lungs as his lips slid across hers repeatedly. Would she recover from this? Is this what it felt like? Jackson then pulled back, after caressing her mouth one last time.

  “Too much?” he asked.

  Bailey shook her head. “No.”

  This time she kissed him. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she deepened the kiss. She enveloped his lips with hers. Jackson ran his gloved thumb across her cheek. Bailey shivered in his embrace, but didn't let go.

  ****

  Jackson played the final chord to the band's new song on his keyboard. He then rested his hands on his thighs. He had no more energy after three hours.

  Bailey couldn't make rehearsal. On one hand, he was glad. If she were present, she would witness his slow process of learning and organizing his thoughts. Though not diagnosed for a disability as a child, Jackson learned about his slow process in elementary school. While he took to music somewhat quicker as opposed to other courses, learning music theory was not a cakewalk. Though he had an ear for the music, half the time he didn't know what he was playing. Why didn’t the song click in his head yet?

  Tony could hear a tune once and play it back within minutes. Jackson ran his hand down his face. His beard prickled at his palm. Tony would have been a great musician. He couldn't let him down. He would work harder than anyone if he had to. His brother's dream wouldn't die with him.

  Humming to the tunes had helped Jackson pick up on the songs quicker, but that didn't mean his way of learning wasn't difficult. Today was a slow day. He read over the sheet music and chord charts once more. Jackson swallowed the last of his coffee. He had to get this right.

  He closed his eyes but only saw Bailey. He heard her voice singing the song already. Bailey. He recalled their kiss at the bridge. He exhaled still feeling her soft lips on his. Despite the wintry winds, warmth spread throughout his chest.

  Why did she seem so familiar to him? He knew those eyes but how? They just met.

  “Sounds good,” Tommy said. He set his guitar to the side. “You okay?”

  “Yeah.” Jackson cupped the back of his neck with one hand.

  “You sure?” Tommy folded his arms across his chest.

  Jackson peered behind his shoulder. Their drummer, Alex, was packing his things to leave. No offense to the man, but Jackson wouldn't spill his guts to his best friend in front of him. While they were all close as a group, Tommy was a brother to Jackson.

  “It's Bailey.”

  “What about her?” Tommy asked.

  “I feel like I know her,” Jackson said.

  “I thought you met online?”

  “We did, but I can't put my finger on it. I know her. We didn't live here long when I was a kid, but her eyes. There's something about her I know.”

  Tommy shrugged. “Does it matter? You like her right?”

  Jackson nodded. “Yeah.”

  “Don't worry about it. Maybe she's the one. I had my doubts at first, but she might be good for you.”

  “What if she was a horrible person back then?” Did Tommy say she was the one?

  Tommy blinked. “Is she that way now?”

  “I haven't known her long.”

  “Is it possible this is all in your head?” Tommy asked.

  “You would think that. I… can’t afford another mistake.”

  “Take it slow. She might surprise you.”

  Jackson's stomach tensed. “You're probably right.”

  “I'm always right.”

  He laughed at his friend. “Don't let that go to your head, please.”

  Chapter 8

  “What time is your first appointment again?” Bailey's mother asked her.

  Bailey moved her rolling chair from her workstation and unlocked her drawer. “Thirty minutes. She's
leaving town with her husband and wants her nails done.”

  Her mother laughed. “To make an appointment for 8:30 in the morning, it must be an emergency.”

  Bailey heard the music through the radio. “Must be.” She watched her mother arrange the piles of hair and fashion magazines on the coffee table in the waiting area. Was this the right time? She couldn't keep singing in Jackson's band from her mother forever. “Mom, I need to tell you something.”

  “We open soon Bailey. Can it wait?” her mother said.

  Perhaps it wasn't the right time. Bailey swallowed despite her dry mouth. She couldn't hold it inside anymore. “Mom, I met someone.”

  Her mother grinned. “You have?”

  “We met… online.”

  Her mother’s eyes widened. “I’m surprised.”

  “It’s not that unusual,” Bailey said. Would her mother disapprove of him?

  “Well…” Her mother folded her arms. “Do we need to run a background check?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  Her mother sighed. “I raised you to be responsible. Nowadays it doesn’t matter where you meet people. I taught you to look for character. Actions speak louder than words. Be careful and wise.”

  “You’re not going to ask me about him?” Bailey asked. Her mother responded better than she thought.

  “I will, so prepare yourself.” Her mother winked at her.

  Bailey wrung her hands together. “Mom, there’s more. I've been... singing.”

  Her mother pivoted to face her. She lifted a single eyebrow. “What?”

  She took a calming breath. “The man I met, he's in a band.”

  “You get that from your father.” Then Bailey's mother sat on the couch and folded her arms.

  “Mom, I didn't mean to keep it from you.”

  “So you’re not only seeing someone without my knowledge but you’re singing too?”

  “I know how you feel about music,” Bailey said. She wouldn’t emphasize that she was a grown woman. She never won that argument.

  “Do you?” Her mother fixed her stare at her. “I can't tell you what to do, but I saw what music did to me and your father.”

  “But you said he quit.”