by Dover, L. P.
“I did. I can’t imagine what it’s like to lose your mother at such a young age.”
Jody squeezes my shoulder. “Me either.” He lets out a heavy sigh. “All right, my favorite elf, I’m heading home. I’ll see you tomorrow evening.”
“Sounds good, Santa.”
He waves at Alyssa and when I look over at her, she waves at me. I wave back, and she lets go of her dad’s hand to run over to me, still holding her teddy bear. Caleb is caught off guard and hollers after her, but she doesn’t stop.
“Thank you for all of the candy canes,” she says, her little voice angelic and soft. Several of them stick out of her pockets, and it’s hard not to laugh.
I kneel to get on her level. “You’re welcome, sweetheart. You know, I usually eat about three of them a night. I’m addicted to them.”
Caleb comes up behind her and picks her up in his arms. “You can’t run off from me like that, Alyssa.”
She frowns. “I’m sorry, Daddy. I wanted to tell Bree thank you for all the candy canes.”
Caleb sighs but then shakes his head and smiles. “It’s okay. I’m sure Bree appreciates it.”
His eyes meet mine, and for a second, I get lost in them. We used to run around in the same friend circle, but I don’t remember his eyes being such a beautiful golden brown. Clearing my throat, I focus back on Alyssa, grinning as wide as I can. “I do. There are a lot of kids who don’t say thank you at all.”
“We’re going to get hot chocolate from Aunt Mathie’s diner,” she says, bouncing in Caleb’s arms.
He chuckles. “Can you tell she’s excited?”
“I’d be excited too,” I laugh. “Aunt Mathie’s has the best hot chocolate ever.”
Caleb’s mother, Ruth, steps up beside him. “It’s even better than mine, and I’m not ashamed to say it.” She holds her arms out wide. “It’s good to see you, Bree. How’s the gallery doing? I’m looking forward to the Christmas showcase.”
I hug her and step back. “It’s great, actually. I’m looking forward to showing off the new pieces I procured.”
“Are you saying it’s going to be better than last year’s event?”
“I sure hope so, Ruth.” There are still some things I want to find, and I’m running out of time. I want this year to be different from all the others.
Alyssa’s eyes twinkle. “Want to get some hot chocolate?”
“Um,” I start, not knowing what to say.
Smiling, Caleb sets her down. “You can come if you want, Bree. If I remember correctly, wasn’t the hot chocolate one of your favorites?”
“Good memory,” I reply, impressed at his recollection. “I like it piled high with whipped cream too.”
Caleb chuckles. “It’s crazy the kind of random stuff we remember.”
I nod. “Exactly. Just like I know you used to drink your hot chocolate with not one, but two peppermints.”
His eyes widen. “Right. How did you know that?”
It’s one of the nights I remember from the diner. I don’t know why it sticks out in my mind, but it does. “A group of our friends decided to meet up at Aunt Mathie’s diner the night of the tree lighting. You sat three seats down from me at the counter, and I remember us all getting our drinks and the waitress setting two peppermints down beside your mug of hot chocolate. I watched you put them both in and wait for them to melt.”
By the surprised look on his face, I can tell he didn’t expect me to say that. “Wow. I didn’t think you paid that much attention to me in high school.”
I roll my eyes. “We may not have been best friends, but you were still a pretty cool guy. I liked talking to you in English class.” Alyssa snickers, and I wink at her. “Are you ready for that hot chocolate now?”
She nods excitedly. “With extra whipped cream.”
Caleb bursts out laughing, and we start toward Aunt Mathie’s, which is only two blocks away. “What about the peppermints? We could put one of your candy canes in it.”
Alyssa sticks her tongue out and gags. “No, thanks. I’ll eat my candy canes like normal.”
Caleb and his mother both giggle and shake their heads. When we get to the diner, Caleb opens the door for us. Ruth gasps when we walk in, and she takes Alyssa’s hand. “Oh, Alyssa, you have to come with me, sweetie. You see that table over there?” She points to a booth in the corner where Mrs. Perkins, my old History teacher, and her granddaughter, Cassie, sit. Cassie is the same age as Alyssa. “That’s my friend Vera and her granddaughter, Cassie. You might see her in school tomorrow.”
Ruth lifts her brows at Caleb, and he waves them off. “Go. Have fun.” Ruth takes Alyssa over, and they end up sitting with Vera and Cassie. Caleb clears his throat and motions toward a table. “Shall we?”
We sit down at an empty booth, and the waitress comes over to get our orders. We both order our hot chocolates just the way we like, only this time, he got his with a candy cane instead of two peppermints. Mine has a mountain of whipped cream along with a few marshmallows. I look back at Alyssa, and hers is piled high as well.
“She’s so adorable,” I say, turning back to Caleb. “She looks just like you with your brown hair and brown eyes.”
He smiles and looks down at his drink. “I love her more than life itself.”
“I bet you do.”
When he lifts his gaze to mine, he narrows them. “How did you know her name earlier?”
I wink. “Santa knows all.” We both laugh, and I wrap my hands around my mug. The warmth feels good on my hands. “Actually, Jody knew you were in town and figured you’d bring your little girl by some time to see him.”
Caleb averts his gaze to Alyssa, who is talking animatedly to her newly found friend. “I wanted to get her out of the house for a while. We’re drowning in moving boxes.”
He tears the plastic away from his candy cane and sets it in his hot chocolate. Taking my spoon, I stir the whipped cream into my drink. “I’m sorry about your wife, Caleb. I can’t imagine what that’s like.”
He blows out a sigh. “It hasn’t been fun, but Alyssa and I are working through it. I quit my job in Charlotte so we could move back here to be closer to my folks. So far, it’s working out okay. I didn’t realize how hard being a single parent was going to be.”
“I wouldn’t know, but I can imagine. My niece is four years old and a handful.”
His brows furrow. “I don’t remember you having any siblings.”
I take a sip of my drink and laugh. “I don’t. Do you remember Lindy from high school? She was my best friend.”
A smile spreads across his face. “Oh yeah, I do. She was the loud one in the group.”
Tilting my head back, I laugh so hard it hurts. “I can’t wait to tell her you said that.” I hold a hand over my heart. “Anyway, she has a little girl, and the aunt situation kind of stuck. I like it, though. I love that child as if she was my own.”
“Do you not have any kids?” Caleb asks, lifting his mug to his lips.
Shaking my head, I stir my hot chocolate again. I’d love to be married with kids right now, but I wasted too many years with the wrong guy. “Not yet,” I reply. “I wanted kids, but the guy I thought I was going to marry decided he didn’t want the responsibility of having them. I loved Mark, but I couldn’t give up on having a family.”
Caleb huffs. “I’m sorry, Bree. The guy’s an idiot. No amount of freedom would ever make me rethink being a father.”
“You’re a good man.” He laughs, and it’s nice seeing him smile. He hasn’t changed much over the years. His dark brown hair has a couple of wisps of gray mixed in, but it’s not a lot. I don’t think he was able to grow much facial hair in high school, but now he has stubble, which looks rugged and sexy. It’s crazy how people can change over the years.
“What do you do for work?” I ask him.
He finishes his hot chocolate and sets his mug down. “I’m a web designer. I used to work for big corporations in Charlotte. I made a ton of money doing it, but a
fter my wife died, I decided to leave it to focus on raising Alyssa. It turns out some of my clients didn’t want to lose me, so I now I freelance and work from home.”
“Sounds like a win-win to me,” I say. I drink the last of my chocolatey goodness. “You know, I’ve always thought about doing my own website. Maybe I could hire you to design one for my gallery?” He opens his mouth to speak, but I hold up a hand. “That is, if you’re not too expensive.”
Chuckling, his eyes light up. “I’d be happy to. I could stop by there tomorrow morning if you’re free.”
I don’t know why, but the thought of him coming to see me makes my heart flutter. “Perfect. I was going to drive to Norfolk to visit the art school, but I can hold off.”
“Why are you going there?”
I shrug. “I like to scout out new talent. My Christmas showcase is coming up, and I want something different to give the people. The paintings do amazing, and I usually sell out of them, but I don’t want the town getting bored with the same things. I want some sculptures or unique photographs to display. When I find new artists, it gives them a chance to be seen.” Caleb stares at me, almost as if he’s shocked at what I just said. “What is it?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “Nothing. I never knew this side of you.”
This makes me laugh. “I’m sure there’s a lot we don’t know about each other, Caleb. I haven’t seen or talked to you since high school.”
His gaze darts over to his mother and Alyssa before coming back to me. “There’s something I want to show you tomorrow. It’s kind of a hobby of mine.”
This piques my interest. “What is it?”
The grin he gives me makes me smile. “I want to keep it a secret for now. And who knows, if you like what you see, maybe we can work out a deal with the website.”
Now I’m definitely intrigued. “Sounds perfect to me.”
Alyssa runs up to the table, and Ruth comes up behind her. “Daddy, I made a friend.”
She hops into the booth beside him, and Ruth walks up. “We should probably get this little Miss to bed. It’s her first day of school tomorrow in a new place.”
I smile at Alyssa. “You’re going to have tons of fun. I know you’ll make plenty of friends.”
Alyssa beams and bounces in the booth. I slide out and set some money on the table, but Caleb pushes it back to me. “I got this, Bree.”
Ruth picks up my money and hands it to me, winking. “Thanks,” I say to her. Then I turn to Caleb. “I really appreciate it.”
He shrugs. “You’re welcome. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“See ya then.” I say goodbye to Alyssa and Ruth and head out the door with a smile on my face. I’m looking forward to tomorrow.
4
Caleb
I knew the moment Alyssa stopped chatting from her booster seat, she had fallen asleep. The drive from downtown to our new house took us nine minutes, apparently six minutes too long for her, but in those three minutes, she recounted her day and how much fun she had. More so, Alyssa was excited to go to school tomorrow now that she had a friend. Which is much better than the tantrum she threw when I told her she would have a new teacher and classmates.
After I pull into the driveway, I shut my car off and stare at the white, non-descript garage door. At our other house, we had a light shining on the doors during the holidays. Santa and his reindeer were on full display for everyone to see. Here, we have nothing, not even a tree or a string of lights. Right now, I feel like the hairy, pot-bellied, pear-shaped, snub-nosed green creature that I love so much. The only thing missing is my faithful furry companion with fake antlers on this head.
“I need to get out of this funk,” I say as I pull the key from the ignition and open my door. I fully expect the overhead light to wake Alyssa, but she doesn’t budge. “Lovely,” I mutter. I make my way around the car to her door and open it. She’s still asleep, snoring lightly. As I lean in, I smell the peppermint from one of her candy canes on her breath and see how stained her lips are.
“Alyssa.” Her name purrs from my lips, a trick I’ve had to learn from my mom in the recent months since my wife passed away. That’s something you never think to learn. I deferred so much of Alyssa’s care to my wife, and because of that, I became a very absent father. My wife never seemed to care, and if she did, she never said anything. I worked because I could provide for our family, allowing her to stay home to raise our daughter. Until she died, I thought everything was perfect. It was except for my parenting skills. I had no idea what cereal my daughter liked or what time she went to bed. It’s the worst feeling in the world, knowing it took my wife dying for me to become an active father.
“Daddy,” she whispers my name as I gather her into my arms. Every part of me breaks. She’s all I have left of my wife, and I’m not sure how to keep her spirit alive in our daughter.
It takes me a couple of tries, but I finally get us into our house and get us upstairs. I have no choice but to wake Alyssa even though my mom warns it’s never good to do so. “Sweetie, you gotta wake up.” I sit her down on the toilet and make sure she’s upright before backing away and starting her bath.
“I don’t need a bath.”
I chuckle. “Your candy cane-hot chocolate-covered mouth disagrees with you.” My hand runs under the faucet until the temperature is perfect, and then I plug the tub. I add a couple of capfuls of bubbles and make sure to swirl my hand around to start the bubbling process. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Alyssa is undressing. At first, I was uncomfortable and told my mom she had to live with us, even though my father would’ve never agreed. She told me I’m not the only single father out there and encouraged me to search on the internet for some blogs that would help me adjust. I did and have found a few forums with single parents who have helped me with situations like this. Honestly, those people have helped me more than they know.
Alyssa comes over, and I look everywhere but at her. She holds my hand as she climbs into the tub, and our rule is that she uses the bubbles to cover up. Once she’s in, I let her play for a bit while I head toward her room to turn down her blankets and find something for her to wear tomorrow. The entire time I’m in her bedroom, she’s talking to me about Santa, repeating everything she said in the car.
“Santa’s so magical,” she tells me.
“I know he is. He knew your name and everything.”
“I know. I think Mommy told him.”
“Do you?” I ask, back in the bathroom. I hold up two outfits for her.
“That one.” She points to a plaid skirt with a white shirt and vest. “Mommy is an angel.”
“And you think angels talk to Santa?”
Alyssa shrugs. “Maybe, or maybe Jesus tells Santa everything.”
“Yep, maybe.” I leave the bathroom so I can compose myself. My mind drifts to the night of the car accident. An older man lost control of his car during a torrential rainstorm and hydroplaned into my wife’s car, making her run off the road and slam into a tree. About three months after that, the man died of a heart attack. I blamed him for the longest time and even hated him, but I can only imagine the level of despair he felt by taking my wife away from me. I don’t think I’d be able to forgive myself if I was in his place. I miss my wife and always will, but I know she wouldn’t want my heart burdened with hate. That’s why I’ve made an effort to move on; it’s what she would want.
When I return to the bathroom after hanging Alyssa’s clothes up, she’s ready for me to wash her hair. She taught me how her mom did it, and I’ve tried to emulate the process every day. There are times when I get it wrong, but I’m learning, and Alyssa knows this.
“Are you hungry?” I ask.
She shrugs again and keeps her eyes closed. “Maybe a sandwich and some soup.”
“I can do that,” I tell her. “What about grilled cheese and tomato soup?”
“With extra cheese?”
“Of course.”
“Can I have bacon on my sandwich?”
“You can have whatever you want.”
As soon Alyssa’s hair is soap-free, I tell her I’ll meet her in the hall. I give her the privacy she needs to dry off. When she comes out with her towel wrapped around her head, not in the right way, but the Alyssa way, and wrapped in an oversized towel, I follow behind her as she makes her way to her room. Now that the danger of water is out of the way, I tell her I’ll meet her downstairs for dinner, and then it’s bedtime. For once, she doesn’t complain as she yawns and nods to me.
* * *
When my alarm goes off, I think about staying in bed. Alyssa doesn’t have to start school and can wait until January, and I’m sure there are things we could do today, just the two of us. But, she has other ideas and throws my bedroom door open. She’s dressed in the outfit she picked out last night and has her hairbrush in her hand, shaking it at me.
“Daddy, get up. I’m going to be late.”
“It’s six-thirty. You have over an hour,” I tell her.
“Not when I have to eat breakfast.” Alyssa sets her hands on her hips, her brush still pointing at me. She’s right, she’s a slow eater, but I plan to drive her, at least for a bit, and then figured she can start taking the bus at the beginning of the year.
“Okay, I’m getting up. I’ll meet you downstairs.” I wait for her to leave and slowly climb out of bed. I glance at my nightstand, and my heart lurches. Tucked inside the drawer is a picture of my wife. I put it there when we moved in because I’m desperately trying to start over. My hand hovers over the knob, and then I think better of it and make my way to the bathroom to get my day started.
Downstairs, I find my precocious daughter standing on the countertop, rummaging through the cabinets. Without trying to create any panic, I scoop her up and set her on my waist. “Let’s not climb up there, okay?
“How am I supposed to know what kind of cereal we have?”