A Date with an Elf

by Dover, L. P.

  Her little smile turns sad. “Is she in heaven with my momma?”

  “I’m sure she is.”

  We finish dinner, and Caleb takes her empty plate. “Why don’t you go get ready for a bath while Bree and I clean the kitchen.”

  “Okay.” She slides out of her chair and starts down the hall, but then stops. “Can I have a treat when I get done?”

  Caleb chuckles. “Sure, why not. I think there’s still a couple of chocolate truffles Nana brought over the other day.” She races off down the hall and squeals. “Do you need me to wash your hair?” My heart skips a beat hearing him say that. He’s such a good dad.

  Alyssa yells back. “No. I’m a big girl now. I can do it.”

  Caleb shakes his head and laughs. “Yep. She’s eight going on thirty.”

  We gather all the dishes and set them in the sink. I fill my side with soapy water and start washing them. Caleb takes them from me and rinses them off before placing them on the drying towel.

  Caleb looks over at me, his brown eyes boring into mine. “Thanks for cooking dinner tonight. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt this happy having someone else around, someone I can talk to.”

  “You don’t have to thank me. I enjoy hanging out with you and Alyssa. She’s such a sweet girl.” I elbow him in the side. “You’re not so bad either.”

  We finish the dishes just about the time Alyssa comes running into the kitchen with her hair wrapped partially in a towel and dressed in her pink pajamas. I grab my car keys off the counter and kneel to her level. “I had fun tonight, Alyssa.”

  “Are you leaving?”

  I nod. “It’s getting late, and I know you have to get to bed early for school.”

  She flings her arms open. “I can’t wait to decorate tomorrow.”

  I hug her tight, and she smells like peach-scented soap. “Me too. I’ll bring my grandmother’s chocolate chip cookie recipe.”

  “Okay.” She lets me go, and Caleb hands her two chocolate truffles. She runs over to the couch where he already has on her cartoons.

  “Want me to walk you out?” he asks.

  My heart skips a beat, and I suck in a breath. “If you want to.”

  “Honey, I’ll be right back,” he says to Alyssa. He opens the front door, and we walk out onto the porch. The rain has stopped, and the cold front has moved in. If it were this cold earlier, the rain would’ve been snow. I stand facing him, and he takes a step closer. “I’ll have the files emailed to you tonight.”

  “Perfect. I want to get them printed and framed as soon as possible. I’m tempted to put some out, but in a way, I want to save them for the showcase.”

  He shrugs. “I’m good with whatever you want to do. Hopefully, people won’t hate them.”

  “They will love them, Caleb. That I can promise you.”

  His eyes search mine, and I hold my breath. There’s tension between us, but it’s a good feeling. In a way, I feel like I’m back in high school on a first date, waiting to be kissed. Caleb moves closer, and I’m still holding my breath. Are we ready for this step? The better question is … is he ready?

  Our lips touch ever so lightly, and his warmth seeps into me. There’s no tongue, no deepening of the kiss. Caleb slowly steps back and smiles. “Goodnight, Bree. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “See ya then.”

  He stays out on the porch until I get into my car and back out of his driveway. I don’t know what I’m getting myself into, but it feels right.

  6

  Caleb

  I stay on the porch until I can’t see Bree’s taillights. My mind is spinning. My heart is racing. For the first time since I met my wife, I’ve kissed another woman. Every voice in my head . . . believe me there are many. . . tell me what I’ve done is wrong, that I’m somehow tarnishing the memory of my wife, our marriage, and the vows we took. But my heart is saying I’m right. It’s healthy to move on and not wallow in what I can’t fix. If the roles were reversed, I’d want my wife to move on, to find a suitable man who could be a father to Alyssa. If I have learned anything over the last year, it’s that life is too short to watch it from the sideline or your rear-view mirror.

  After checking on Alyssa and finding her snuggled on the couch with her bear and eyes focused on her cartoon, I head back into the kitchen and pull my phone out to call my mom. It’s not that I need her approval, but maybe advice.

  “I’m spoon deep in peppermint ice cream, so if you need me to come over, you’ll have to wait.”

  “No worries, Mom. I just wanted to talk to you about something.”

  “Your date with Bree?”

  “It wasn’t a date.” Was it?

  “Caleb, you invited a woman to your house to cook you and your daughter dinner. A woman, I might add, who you haven’t seen or spoken to since high school, who you didn’t date, and who you just became reacquainted with yesterday. You may not realize it, but subconsciously this was a test to see how Alyssa would react to another woman being around you, in your home, and with her. Am I right?”

  “Maybe,” I mutter. “What if I wanted a homecooked meal?” I counter with.

  My mom laughs. “Then you would’ve been here at six for dinner. Nice try, buddy.” There’s a pause, and I hear her spoon clanking against her bowl. Now, I want ice cream and wonder if I have any in the freezer. “So, tell me, how was dinner?”

  “Amazing.”

  “And the company?”

  “Amazing,” I say again.

  “You need a thesaurus. Maybe Santa will bring you one for Christmas.”

  “Okay, enough harping on my choice of words.”

  Mom sighs. “Fine, tell me what’s on your mind.”

  I inhale deeply and think about my life. When I try to picture my future, I see Alyssa. She’s there, smiling. She’s happy and always laughing. She’s not the sad little girl who cried herself to sleep for the first six months after her mom died or the child who refused to talk to a therapist until the bear arrived and then finally opened up. Behind her, in this montage of images, is Bree. We’re holding hands and her belly is round, filled with our child.

  “Caleb?”

  “Do you remember the first time you met Bree?” I ask my mom. “She had come over; I think it was our junior year. We were partners on a social studies assignment. I remember how she wasn’t nervous. She didn’t try to flirt or suggest we study in my room like other girls had.”

  “Ugh,” my mom groans, and I smile.

  “My friendship with her was effortless. I was going to ask her to prom that year, but someone beat me to it. I thought the summer would change things, and then we started our senior year. She had a boyfriend, and I was just there, in the background. I wonder why I didn’t push harder?”

  “Because you needed to find yourself first.”

  “Am I lost?” I ask her.

  “No,” she says. “To find yourself doesn’t mean you were lost or are lost. You had to grow, experience life. Unfortunately for you, you’ve experienced one of the worst heartaches ever. You lost your wife. In a way, you can never get her back. The pain and hurt you’ve been through are meant to make you stronger. Before, when you looked at life, you saw your cup almost empty. Now, you embrace each day and see yourself with an almost full cup. You owe it to yourself to be happy. To make Alyssa happy. And if Bree is the person that brings a smile to your face, explore it. Don’t let some arbitrary rule of a mourning period tell you otherwise.”

  “What if I’m wrong? What if I pursue her only to realize my heart isn’t in it?”

  “Caleb, your heart is already in it, or you wouldn’t have asked her over or shown her your photos.”

  I pinch the bridge of my nose and sigh. “How do you even know this?”

  “Small town living hasn’t changed. Carol saw you in Bree’s gallery, and then Lindy told her mom, who told Sharon, who told—you get the picture.”

  “You ladies need a hobby.”

  Mom laughs. “We have one. It’s called
spilling the tea, and we do it very well.”

  I glance at the time on the microwave and see that I need to get Alyssa into bed. I tell my mom goodnight and thank her for her advice. I make it a point to hang up before going into the living room. If Alyssa knows her nana is on the phone, it’ll be another hour before she makes it to bed.

  “Bedtime,” I tell her as I enter the living room. She sits up, the couch crinkling from the plastic still on it. “Sorry, I’ll take this off now.” I expect Alyssa to head toward the bathroom to brush her teeth, but she starts lifting the plastic off the sofa. “Thanks for helping.”

  “You’re welcome, Daddy. It’s kind of embarrassing.”

  I nod. “I know. I should’ve taken it off earlier.”

  “Is Bree going to be your girlfriend?”

  I wad the covering up into my arms, set it down, and pull Alyssa into my arms. Together, we collapse onto the couch. It’s soft and molds to my body. “I was going to wait until tomorrow to talk to you about Bree. But, since you’re asking now, I want to make sure I answer your questions. I don’t want to hide anything from you. You will always be my number one girl, no matter what. Got it?”

  Alyssa keeps eye contact with me and nods.

  “I like Bree, and back when we were in high school, I liked her a lot, but she had a boyfriend. Then I met your mom, and we fell in love.”

  “And then you had me.”

  “Well, yes, but we dated and moved in together and then got married.”

  “And then you had me.”

  “Yep, and you were the best thing to ever happen to me. And your mom. She loved you so much.” I tilt forward and kiss her nose. “I hadn’t thought about Bree in a long time until we saw her yesterday with Santa, and then I remember how much I liked her when I was younger.”

  “I like her too. She smiles a lot, and she’s a better cook than you. No offense.”

  “None taken. I’m just happy that you like her because I like her a lot, and I think it might be nice if Bree is around more, if you’re okay with her being here.”

  “Well . . .” Alyssa’s legs bounce up and down. “I’m okay with it if she is. You should really ask her, Daddy, because maybe she doesn’t like you.”

  I can’t help but laugh. My daughter is right. Here I am, thinking about my feelings and not considering or even knowing what Bree is thinking or feeling. “You’re right. Maybe she doesn’t. I think I’ll ask Santa. He should know, right?”

  Alyssa’s eyes go wide. “Yes! Santa knows everything!”

  Let’s hope, kid.

  * * *

  After picking Alyssa up for school, we head to Steve’s tree farm. It’s the only place in town that allows us to cut our own trees—if we want—and also has pre-cut trees for purchase. For as long as I can remember, this is where my family has picked their tree.

  Alyssa climbs out of the car and makes her way toward the farm. Steve is outside trimming trees, as I’ve always remembered. “Heard you were back in town.” He comes over and shakes my hand. “I sure have missed you around here.”

  “Yep, back for good,” I tell him even though I hadn’t decided until that moment. Guess I’m more ready to move on than I thought. “Steve, this is my daughter, Alyssa.”

  “Hi, nice to meet you,” she says, extending her hand. “Nana says you have the best trees.”

  “Your nana is correct. Come on, let me show you.”

  Alyssa and I find the perfect tree within minutes, and after Steve helps tie it down to my car, we’re on our way home.

  “That was fun,” she says from the backseat. “We should do it more often.”

  I laugh and remind her that Christmas only comes once a year. She replied with, “I’m going to have to talk to Nana about that.” As if Nana has all the answers and can fix everything. I suppose to a little girl she can.

  I’m pleasantly surprised to find Bree’s car in my driveway when we pull in. Alyssa is as eager to see her as I am and doesn’t hide the fact. She squeals as she unbuckles and forgets to close the car door after she bolts from it. I take my time, trying to play it cool when all I want to do is get the next hour-plus of activities out of the way so I can be alone with Bree and see if what I’m feeling is just a reaction to having her near me or if what I’m feeling is real. The way my body reacts to her presence tells me everything is legit.

  As much as it pains me not to go to Bree and interrupt her moment with Alyssa, I work to untie the tree and get it into the house. I leave the girls outside while they talk about what decorations have to go up and hear Alyssa comment on how Santa needs to be able to find her house, so we need lights. I make a mental note to add a string of lights to the front this weekend.

  When Bree finally makes her way inside, her arms are full. I take what I can and follow her into my kitchen. I pause in the doorway, listening to her tell me about my photos and the people that came into the gallery today, and watch her. She fits perfectly, almost as if this space was designed just for her.

  “Did you hear me?”

  I shake my head to clear my thoughts. “I’m sorry, I was lost in thought.”

  “I sold two of your pictures this morning, within minutes of hanging them.”

  My mouth opens to reply, but nothing comes out. “You . . . you did?”

  Bree nods and smiles brightly. “They asked when I’ll have more because they were so excited.” She comes over to me and starts to take the remaining things out of my hands. “Are you okay?”

  I nod and lean forward, pressing my lips to hers. This time, I deepen the kiss, testing myself. When we part, she opens her eyes slowly. “What was that for?”

  “I’ve wanted to do that since high school.”

  “Really?” she asks.

  “Yeah, and I’m trying to make everything make sense in my head. Every book I’ve read tells me I need to take time to heal, but as soon as I saw you, it’s like the hole in my heart sealed up and starting pumping again. Besides my parents, you’re the first one to see any of the photographs because I couldn’t bring myself to share them, but you make me feel so at ease, so comfortable like we were meant to be in each other’s lives that I want to share everything with you.”

  Bree swallows hard and looks into my eyes. “I never believed in love at first sight until I saw you standing in line. I haven’t been able to think of anything or anyone else since that moment. But, I don’t want you to rush, and I want you to be sure because this wouldn’t be a you and I situation. It’s an us. There are three of us with our hearts on the line.”

  I smile softly. “The two of us are certain we want you in our lives.”

  Bree’s grin rivals Alyssa’s when she saw Santa the other day. “But first, dinner.” She takes the bags from me and gives me a quick peck. “I’ll cook. Santa heard I was helping you and Alyssa tonight, so he got another elf to take my place. You set up the tree and start stringing the lights. We have a long night ahead of us.”

  This time, the small talk in a small town has worked to my advantage. I have to remember to thank Santa the next time I see him.

  7

  Bree

  It’s been three weeks since mine and Caleb’s first kiss. During that time, we’ve had many more, but that’s as far as it’s gone. I think it’s good to take things slow. What I love most about mine and Caleb’s time together is how natural it all feels. I can’t help but smile when I’m around him and Alyssa. Alyssa loves that about me and often asks if I’m ever sad. For most of the past month, I haven’t had a reason to be sad about anything. This Christmas is turning out to be the best holiday I’ve ever had.

  Tomorrow is the biggest event of the year for me, and I’m way past ready to show everyone what I have in store for them. Caleb spent the entire day with me in the gallery, making sure everything is in place. My paintings are on display, scattered throughout the gallery, and intermingled with my work is Caleb’s photographs and other pieces I procured from other artists. Every year, I sell out of almost everything, a
nd once the new year comes, I’m busy trying to come up with new ideas.

  “I have a strange feeling tomorrow’s going to be insane,” Caleb calls out.

  I finish dusting off the golden frame surrounding my snow globe painting. “Oh yeah, why is that?”

  He chuckles. “Come here and see for yourself.” He’s at the front desk, sitting there with my laptop open in front of him. His eyes twinkle when he looks up at me. “How many people do you usually have come for the showcase event?”

  I think back through the past few years. “Let’s see, the first year I had about a hundred people come through, but more and more come each year. Last Christmas, I had a little over two hundred. Why do you ask?” He swivels my laptop toward me so I can see the screen where he has a huge number highlighted. “What is that number for?”

  “That,” he says, grinning wider, “is the number of page views you’ve gotten on your website this week. The ads you put on social media have more than tripled the traffic.” He focuses on the screen and clicks on a few more things. “Looking at the gallery’s Facebook page, there are people from all around saying they’re going to come tomorrow. I’m talking about people from New York, Florida, on over to California. This is insane.”

  My heart thumps wildly in my chest. I’m terrified yet excited. “I can’t believe I didn’t do any marketing before.”

  He shuts my laptop and laughs. “Well, you’ve done pretty damn good selling your paintings without it. It’s just now, you can go further than Meadowbrook. What if somebody famous comes in and wants to buy your work?”

  I roll my eyes. “I won’t hold my breath on that one.”

  Caleb walks around the desk and pulls me into his arms. “I have faith in you.”

  I wrap my arms around his neck. “What about you? I had to stop putting your photos out because people kept snagging them up. I was about not to have any for the showcase.”