“So, I’m trying to figure out what you actually miss about it. I remember you explaining why you dislike the solstice celebration, is it the same for Christmas?”
It hadn’t occurred to January that her conversations up to this point would have remained the same, just with different reasoning.
“So, I told you everything? My birthday, the wedding, all of it?”
“Don’t you remember?”
Slouching back in her chair January truly felt as if she was losing her mind. She wasn’t sure which way was up, which way was down, or even what had happened before today.
“I think I do, but everything is such a jumble right now.” Then the kiss from last night popped in her head and she remembered how it left her panting in the parking lot.
Leaning forward, January whispered, “We. . .um. . .did we kiss last night?” She hated to ask so bluntly, but it was such a perfect kiss that she felt as if she would die if he said no. January had some wild dreams in the past and she absolutely didn’t want this one to be a dream. Her palms began to sweat as she waited breathlessly for his response.
At first, she thought he was going to play coy and not reply, but he answered with a nod before leaning forward in the booth. His elbows perched on the table and he drew one of his strong fingers across his bottom lip. January was mesmerized by the movement and couldn’t pull her stare away, no matter how hard she fought against it.
She tried to look away and failed - until he started speaking, then she found herself falling further down the rabbit hole. “We did and it was the hottest kiss of my life. And I’d really like to do it again. Soon.”
She sat there, slack-jawed. And January was almost positive her cheeks were the same color as the red tablecloth.
“Now, tell me why you actually miss Christmas. Not what everyone else is missing out on. But what you miss. Was there anything you liked at all?”
The question left her speechless. Reasons for liking the holiday left her memories many years ago, but as she sat and pecked away at her sandwich she realized something. January realized that while she hated how much Christmas had overshadowed so many special times in her life, it brought happiness to so many others, especially her parents. They loved the holiday and all the hubbub associated with it. But most of all, they loved being with family.
January’s mother had her Christmas traditions that, to January, forced her to participate in things she had no desire to do, but she did it because she knew that it made her mom happy. And if her mom was happy, her dad was happy.
Pushing the empty plate to the edge of the table, she grabbed her pen and started scribbling in her notebook.
“So, every year since I can remember, my mom did her own personal countdown. It wasn’t something like marking days off a calendar. It was something special we did on certain days leading up to Christmas Day.”
“Okay. What kind of things? Maybe they do something with the Pineville Winter Solstice Celebration that is similar.”
Continuing to write out the countdown she remembered for this year, January didn’t look up from her paper as she mumbled, “Maybe.”
Finally, she stopped writing and gazed down at the paper before her, images of previous year’s events flashed in her mind.
“Want to share what you wrote down?” Deckard asked. Her head jerked upward at his question and she has to shake her head to free it of her memories.
“Yes, sorry.” She handed over the notebook to Deckard’s waiting hand and he started scanning it over, his eyes moving with each word on the page
“So, this is ten days out?” At her nod, he continued, “Day one: decorate Christmas tree?”
“Yes, so we would go find the perfect pine tree and decorate it with beautiful glass ornaments, lights, garland, and tinsel that have been passed down in my family for years. There used to be a tree lot here in town, but I’m guessing that isn’t the case anymore. Your grandparent’s store had a beautiful Christmas display with differently decorated trees.
“Every year I brought an ornament to place on my parents’ tree. It was really special. It was something we did as a family. Through the years, most of my siblings forgot, but I remembered every year. My mom always had what we called her pretty tree. It looked like something out of a magazine. She loved Christmas too much to wait to put up a tree, so we put up two.”
Pulling his gaze away from her, Deckard quickly glanced down at the sheet and then asked, “Day two: make ornaments?”
“My mom is super crafty. She would come up with some design for us and we’d make an ornament to place on the garland she draped on their fireplace mantle.”
“I’m guessing the previous year’s ornaments are placed on the tree?”
“Always.” I smile, remembering my mother’s delicate touch as she treated each ornament as if it were the most prized treasure. “She had a special spot for each and every one.”
January’s smile grew in fondness until it dawned on her again that there was no Christmas, and she’d never again see the look of delight in her mom’s eyes.
“Okay, you also have written down: make gingerbread houses and cookies, family night with a Christmas movie -”
She interrupted, adding, “It was going to be my turn this year.”
When he looked over at her in confusion, she clarified what she meant. “We took turns every year to decide who got to pick the Christmas movie the family would watch. It was my turn this year.”
Setting the notebook down, he gazed at her in complete rapture. “Really? What would you have picked to watch?”
“I don’t know. I hadn’t really thought about it.”
“If you had to pick right now, what would have been your choice?”
January thought about it. There weren’t many Christmas themed movies that she loved or cared to watch more than once. Last time she chose White Christmas because she knew it was her mother’s favorite.
“Um, I always had a soft spot for Tim Allen in The Santa Clause. It’s probably the only Christmas movie I’ve seen a few times and I don’t hate.”
“I bet it’s great.”
Deckard paused, appearing to wait for January to come to some sort of conclusion, but she wasn’t sure what that was supposed to be. His steady gaze on her had January squirming in her seat with nerves. What was it about this man that had her feeling like a teenager sitting with her first crush?
“Continue,” she motioned for him to keep reading the list.
“A Christmas parade. Where was the parade?”
“Here in town, it’s probably similar to the celebration. But the town really loved it. All of the clubs and businesses made floats and went up the streets for the twelve blocks of downtown. It was great. And there were little booths with hot chocolate and cookies. Everyone was always smiling and we all sat together on the sidewalk edges in the center of town.”
“That sounds nice. We don’t have a parade, but I imagine it wouldn’t be hard to convince the town to do one.”
“How would you decorate the floats? Isn’t solstice mostly symbolized with stars and snowflakes?”
“Yeah. I guess there wouldn’t be much variety. But you never know.” He shrugged his shoulders with a smile on his lips then looked down to continue reading through the list. “Christmas Eve dinner and gift exchange.
“Imagine Thanksgiving in December and a birthday to the extreme.”
She bit back a laugh as Deckard’s eyes widen at her description. The two events were the closest thing she could think of to describe Christmas.
“No way.”
“Yes. People would go all out for Christmas presents. Kids would write lists of gifts they wanted from Santa at the North Pole, and if they were on the nice list they’d get some of them, or all if you were lucky enough.”
“What if you were bad?”
“Oh, if you were on the naughty list, you got coal. At least that’s always been the tale. I was always on the nice list.”
“I find that ha
rd to imagine.”
“Really,” she says coyly, taking a sip from her water.
“Oh yeah. You have sinner written all over you.”
January’s eyes cast down at his assumption. She wasn’t a sinner, but with him, she’d gladly get down on her knees and start confessing.
Deckard paused and let his words sink and settle in her mind.
“I. . .uh. . .don’t know what you mean.”
“By the way we kissed last night. I’m certain that you do.”
“Oh,” she sat mollified at his answer. She absolutely wanted a repeat from last night with him. And at the way her core tightened just imagining the kiss again, her body was on par for a repeat performance. Maybe she was a sinner after all.
Her mind started thinking about tugging him into the supply closet of the bakery and finishing what they started last night.
A slam brought her back into the moment and she found Deckard had closed the notebook with a bang on the table.
“Let’s do it.”
Her cheeks heated wondering if he somehow knew what she had imagined just seconds ago.
Bashfully January ran a finger along the edge of the table as she asked, “Do what?”
He shook his head, some of the dark wavy strands falling into his eyes. “Your list. Let’s do it.”
She immediately paused her movements. “What?”
“I don’t think I’ll understand what we’re missing unless I experience it. I mean, this list and your descriptions are too detailed to be a coincidence, and I told you that I believed you. I want to know all about how you celebrated Christmas. I bet your friend Samantha would want to join in too. Though I’m man enough to admit it, she may be tiny, but she scares me.”
Chuckling January piped in, “Don’t worry, she scares me most days too.”
Deckard reached across the table and took her free hand into one of his. “So, what do you think? Show me your Christmas.”
“I feel like that could be a terrible euphemism for something sexual, but yes, I’ll show you my Christmas.”
Chapter Four
Together they left the small bistro and walked back toward Nick’s Knacks General Store. January had worried about not calling out of work, but when she got a hold of Samantha, her friend informed her that their boss wasn’t even in the office.
She also invited herself to join them as they searched for a tree – no questions asked, even after January gave her a brief rundown on the missing holiday. She would be meeting them in thirty minutes.
Inside the store, January wasn’t prepared for what she saw. Though she knew that there was little chance that there would be anything related to Christmas, she still held out a glimmer of hope. But as they walked farther into the space, her heart dropped. It looked like it would any other time of the year, she imagined. The shelves were stocked with all the items a small town would need in the winter. Snow scrapers and shovels, de-icer, boots, and snow gear.
Deflated, January followed Deckard around the shop pointing out the items they needed to chop down the perfect tree. He grabbed an ax, tarp, and a large bucket to fill with dirt to hold the tree. She made the mistake of asking if they sold a tree stand and he looked at her as if she had grown two heads. She hadn’t considered that there wouldn’t be any available. But she was not going to be deterred.
On their way out the door, she noticed the sale on Halloween décor. A set of white and black string lights caught her attention in the large bin.
“These are perfect. Do you happen to have any ribbon?” she asked enthusiastically. She wondered if this was how her mother felt every year when it was time to decorate their tree.
Deckard pointed her toward an aisle with craft supplies and she eagerly skipped down the aisle, sighing in relief when she found a three-inch wide red ribbon. She grabbed a few spools of it and also some thinner white satin ribbon for the ornaments they could make.
At the checkout counter, she found Deckard standing handsomely at the register and she piled her findings in front of him. January noticed that he had added some gloves to their pile as he rang them out.
“So where is a good place to look for a tree?” Deckard asked just as Samantha bounced over to them.
“The woods of course!” the woman shouted as she grabbed the bags from the counter and rushed back out the door as quickly as she came.
“I guess we’re following her?” Deckard joked as he pressed his hand to January’s back to guide her out of the store. They shared a knowing smirk at Samantha’s quick entry and exit.
“Seems that way. I hope that you brought a GPS because she is probably going to get us lost.”
Holding up his phone to signify that he had the GPS covered, Deckard laughed as he stopped in front of his pickup truck. January didn’t want him to know how much she admired the vehicle with its black as night paint and large tires, but she was certain as he took in her smile that he knew anyway.
She clapped her hands gleefully as he held the door open for her to climb in. They were going out on an adventure today and January had a hard time hiding her excitement. With her foot on the running board, she heaved herself inside the cab, settling against the luxurious leather of the seat. At this height Deckard was only slightly below her eye level, and as he moved to close the door she gripped the collar of his jacket, leaned in, and kissed him the way she had wanted to in the bakery.
She had thought that their first kiss last night had made her head spin because it had been a lustful moment in a public place, but as her lips brushed against his now, she knew it was more than a one time thing. They had chemistry, neither of them could deny that, but there was something more that she couldn’t put her finger on. January had been burned so badly by her last relationship that she was skittish to try another. It seemed there was another magic at play, and instead of fighting against it as she had two days ago, January was going to revel in it.
His tongue peeked out and swiped against her lips, begging for entrance, and she greedily accepted his plea. Strong arms wrapped around her waist as Deckard stepped between her legs. Similar to last night, January felt like she couldn’t get close enough to him. It wasn’t just the clothes or the place, she felt that their connection was only held together by a small tether that was slipping away with every second that passed.
“I can’t get enough of you,” Deckard murmured against her mouth before he greedily dove back in to take more. January moaned lustfully at his assault.
January almost bit Deckard’s plump lip when a car’s horn honked beside them, startling them both. With her hands still clutching the lapels of his coat, as Deckard jumped back in alarm, he almost pulled January along with him.
“Let’s go, people. We’re on a mission!” Samantha shouted from behind the wheel of her compact car.
Deckard closed the door, then shuffled around the hood of the truck before sliding inside.
The truck pulled out onto the street and Samantha quickly steered her vehicle in line behind them.
“You know, I’m surprised at how easily Samantha came on board with this entire Christmas thing. We both know that I believe you, but most people would think you needed to be committed. No offense.”
“That’s the thing about Samantha, her friends are her family, and if I told her that there was a twelve-foot abominable snowman living in my backyard she wouldn’t question me at all.”
“You mean you don’t have one?” he feigned shock and January slapped his arm with the back of her hand.
“Seriously, Samantha knows when I’m lying, she always has. And she’s always up for a reason to add sparkles to her world.”
Deckard nodded as they reached the town limits and turned on the radio. January hated to admit that it seemed strange to hear regular music playing on the station. He must have caught her expression.
“Why the sullen face?”
“Are there no winter solstice songs?”
“No, I don’t think so. What has you looking like you
just lost your cat?”
“Christmas music was kind of like nails on a chalkboard to me. They took over all my favorite stations and you couldn’t go anywhere without hearing them. But now that they aren’t around, I kind of miss them. I know that sounds silly.” She shrugged her shoulders knowing that there was nothing she could do about the missing music.
“No, it doesn’t. It seems like maybe you took the holiday for granted.”
“It wasn’t just me, everyone seemed to, but I’m the only one that had a countdown for it to be over.”
“I’m sorry, January. Maybe you could sing one for me?” He looked at her with large puppy dog eyes and blinked those incredibly long eyelashes that men seemed to always be graced with
She laughed loudly at his suggestion, so hard, in fact, that she clutched her stomach as the chuckles soared out of her.
“You absolutely do not want to hear me sing. You’ve never heard a more horrific sound.”
“I seriously doubt that. I bet you have a great voice, low and sultry.”
January had never sung in front of anyone. No one had ever asked. Her brother had once heard her singing in the bathroom when she was eight. She had been getting ready for a party, and when she stepped out of the room, he had told her she sounded like a dying animal. January hadn’t sung since that day. Now that she had time to ponder the situation, maybe her brother was just being mean and not honest.
“There is one song that I kind of always liked.”
“I’d like to hear it. Please.” Deckard looked over to her and smiled, puppy dog eyes long gone. And there was no way she could deny him anything when he smiled at her that way. Heck, he could ask her to dance naked outside and she wouldn’t think twice about it.
Closing her eyes, January began to hum the beat of the song. It came as second nature, having heard it every year since she could remember. Then the lyrics started to surge as she sang “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas.”
The truck stopped, but January kept singing, the words flowing through her without abandon. She felt the tears pooling in the corner of her eyes until it became too much and one lone tear escaped, sliding down her cheek.
A Snowflake Wish Page 6