A Snowflake Wish

by Renee Harless

  Her friend balled up the blanket and took a seat next to her. “Look, I get that you’re freaked out with how fast things are moving between you and Deckard -”

  “How did you. . ?”

  “He texted and said you bailed on him today. It wasn’t hard to figure out that a relationship, in general, scare you. And then the fact that he might not stay here in Pineville is just throwing your emotions out of whack.

  “And to top it all off, your world has been completely flipped upside down. For us nothing has changed, but for you, nothing is the same.”

  “How can I fix it?” January asked.

  With a heavy sigh, her friend said, “You can’t. All you can do is move forward. Let’s celebrate the Christmas you remember, and then when it’s all over, you move on with your life as if nothing was amiss.”

  “Keep moving forward.”

  “That’s right; because the past is the past and we can’t change it. But we can look toward the future.”

  “The past is the past,” January murmured to herself, mimicking Samantha’s wise words. She had spent so many years living with her hands grasping at the hurt of her childhood that she let the past mask the wonderful things of the present and future.

  “Now, while I’m all for some movie nights at home, this is not one of those times. Go get showered and get dressed in something warm.”

  With a grunt and a push, Samantha not so gracefully shoved January off the couch.

  When she almost dropped to the floor, January shouted, “Hey!”

  Ignoring her, Samantha made herself comfortable in January’s spot on the couch. “Go, you have ten minutes.”

  “Why? Where are we going?” January asked as she made her way down the hallway, shuffling her sock covered feet the entire way.

  “Doesn’t matter. Just dress warmly.”

  January worried that Samantha was going to drag her to the Pineville Solstice Celebration Festival downtown tonight through her entire shower. As she pulled on her jeans and knee-high boots, she even considered making up an excuse to keep from going out. But she knew Samantha wasn’t going to fall for any of it. When her friend was determined to do something, there was no backing out of it.

  Of course, January felt that she owed it to Samantha after the sound piece of advice she had given her not too long ago.

  “Keep the past in the past,” January reminded herself as she shook her hair free of its twist, letting it fall in soft waves around her shoulders. Through her reflection January looked over herself, loving the way the blood-red sweater set off her peach skin tone and the blonde highlights in her hair.

  Satisfied with her appearance, she made her way to her coat closet and grabbed an ivory scarf and hat. While she had sat on the couch, she noticed how heavily the snow had begun to fall. It was actually surprising to have Samantha venture out to her house with the storm the way it was, but in Pineville, everyone knew how to maneuver in the slushy mess.

  “Samantha!” she called out. “Can you give me a hint about where we’re going? Am I dressed okay?” Too busy expertly knotting the scarf around her neck, January walked into the living room and looked up in alarm when she didn’t receive an answer.

  She had been expecting to find Samantha playing on her phone, ignoring the world around her. What January didn’t expect to find was Deckard standing beside her Christmas tree, holding her coat in his hand.

  “What? How?” she stuttered as she tried to figure out why Deckard would be standing in her kitchen looking so devilishly handsome, when he should be with his family.

  “I want to take you somewhere,” Deckard said softly as he held open her coat for her to slip into.

  “Deckard, I’m sorry, I. . .” she tried to explain, but couldn’t quite get past the lump in her throat. January hadn’t ever heard Deckard sound this way. He was almost. . .sad. And her first thought was that she upset him by ditching him and his family today, and now he was going back to Atlanta early.

  Served her right, she thought.

  The assurance she was waiting and hoping for didn’t come, but the soft squeeze of Deckard’s hand in hers as he guided her from her house was more than she could have asked for.

  Silently he helped her into his truck and backed out of her driveway heading away from town. January knew better than to ask where they were going. For all she knew, he was going to drag her to his grandparents’ house just to spite her.

  January wouldn’t blame him.

  The silence was beginning to crush her as the world darkened around them. Their surroundings changed from homes and sidewalk-lined streets to fields and trees.

  It was all too much.

  “I’m sorry for bailing today. I’m just feeling a bit overwhelmed and guilty and I think it got the best of me. I didn’t mean to upset your family.”

  She wanted a reply, needed one to ease her conscious, but Deckard took the hand that had been resting on the center console and gently clasped hers.

  “Don’t you have something to say? Anything? Like, are you mad? I can’t read you right now and it’s freaking me out.”

  The truck effortlessly maneuvered around a bend in the road, then Deckard took a quick glance at her, grinning warmly, but he still remained silent.

  Her agitation was starting to rise and January wanted nothing more than to lash out at Deckard, but in the back of her mind she felt that maybe she deserved his reservations. She was the one to back out of their plans.

  The beautiful blue glow from the moon illuminated on the profile of his face and January felt an ache ping in her chest. She was going to miss him, this beautiful and stubborn man that didn’t give up when she rejected him the first time, this man that undoubtedly believed her tale of wishing away Christmas, this man that wanted nothing more than to spend what little time he had in Pineville with her.

  She couldn’t take it anymore and with a final plea, January’s voice cracked. “Deckard, please.”

  “We’re here,” he revealed as he put the truck in park and cut the engine. January turned to look out the window and found a beautiful barn illuminated by outdoor Edison lights. Horses were standing in their stalls, their heads just peeking out through the doorway.

  “What’s this?” she turned back to ask him, but Deckard was already jumping down from the vehicle, his reply a slamming of his door. His pace was quick as he trudged around the truck and opened her door, holding out a hand to help her down.

  “Before you say anything, I already had this planned out, but when you bailed this morning, I had to call in reinforcements,” he explained as he escorted her toward the barn that looked like something from a Christmas card.

  Someone had taken the time to shovel a path from the entrance on the road up to the barn and January was grateful since the snow had continuously fallen for the last three days creating almost a foot of snow on the ground.

  “Samantha,” she whispered. Squeezing his hand to get his attention, she waited for Deckard to turn his face toward her before she continued. “Deckard, I really am sorry. I was just not thinking straight.”

  He stopped walking and used their conjoined hands to pull her closer. She could feel the heat radiating off of his body, even in the chilled temperature. “I know and I get it. I won’t lie and say I wasn’t upset that you canceled this morning, but I understood.”

  “So, you’re not mad?”

  He didn’t answer with words. Instead, he leaned forward and kissed her. It was a perfect kiss. Not just because the snow softly fell around them and the idyllic red barn with string lights casting them both in a dim light, but She and Deckard had unparalleled chemistry.

  A cough sounded from close by and January found herself jumping back, almost falling into the bank of snow had Deckard’s strong arms not reached out and gripped her waist.

  “Sorry. Mr. Spruce, I have everything ready for you,” the young worker said as he bashfully brushed his hands against dirt-covered pants.

  “Thank you, Thomas. Is your fath
er ready for us?”

  “He sure is, sir.”

  January watched as the teen scampered away toward the barn, but Deckard brought her attention back to him. “You ready?” His growing excitement was palpable.

  They started walking again in the direction of the barn as she added, “You still haven’t told me what we’re doing yet.”

  January waited for him to spill the secret, but as they approached the top of the hill, she didn’t need to wait any longer. A beautiful white stallion stood proudly with a large wooden sleigh trailing behind him. A bundled-up man sat along the front seat with the horse's reins in his hands.

  Her feet glued themselves to the ground as she took it all in. Deckard had planned a romantic sleigh ride with her. And she almost ruined it.

  As if her guilt wasn’t weighing her down already.

  “Stop. I can see the wheels turning. I wanted to do something special for you. It may not be Christmassy, but this is one of my grandparents’ favorite things to do during the winter solstice. I wanted to share that with you.”

  “Am I dreaming right now?” she asked, her eyes never leaving the vision before her. “Deckard, this is. . .” she trailed off, unsure of the exact words she could use to describe this moment.

  Deckard offered for her. “Beautiful. Perfect. Something the best boyfriend in the world would do?”

  Finally, her eyes pulled away from the sleigh and she looked at Deckard in all of his smug glory. Rising on her tiptoes, January placed a kiss on his scruff-covered cheek.

  “It’s all of those things. Thank you, Deckard.”

  “You’re welcome, beautiful.”

  He helped her step into the sleigh then followed behind, covering them both with the blanket provided by the driver. January marveled at how much the trip through the snowy field calmed her. It could be the noise of the horse clopping along the path or the whoosh of the sleigh being pulled. January thought that it had more to do with the sound of Deckard’s steady heartbeat as it pounded beneath her ear where she rested her head against his chest, or it could be the up and down movement of his chest with each breath that he took. Whichever reason, January was lulled into a sense of serenity she had never felt before.

  Tilting her head to look up at Deckard, she marveled at how this man who had been a stranger only a few days ago had come to feel like such a part of her. She would miss him when he was gone, but she was forever changed because of him, and that meant that a piece of Deckard would always be with her. She realized that it was going to have to be enough.

  “Thank you,” she expressed, loving the way he looked down at her and smiled before pulling her tighter against him.

  This was heaven, and she didn’t want it to end. But just like Christmas, they were on a deadline.

  The sleigh ride lasted an hour and then they were headed back toward her house. The drive seemed shorter than before, but January wondered if that was due to anticipation. She wasn’t going to keep Deckard at an arm’s length when they reached her home. She was planning on giving in to the cravings that she had been fighting against.

  She was a strong independent woman and if she wanted to have sex with a man she’s known for less than a week, then she could. January felt that she had a stronger connection with Deckard than she had with any of her previous boyfriends or lovers, and that meant more to her than time.

  Just like he had at the barn, Deckard stopped the truck and put it in park, except this time he didn’t cut the engine. Instead, he turned to look at her. She wanted to squirm in her seat, she was nervous and the way he looked at her made her body heat all over. The combination churned her stomach.

  “Do you want to come inside?” she whispered. She sent a silent prayer to the heavens that Deckard could understand her because she could barely understand her own voice.

  The blue eyes across from her glistened from the light beaming from the dashboard and January tried to search them for an answer, but came up empty.

  “Are you asking because you think that’s what I want, or is it what you want?”

  Great question, she thought.

  But she knew her answer and didn’t have to ponder for longer than a couple of seconds. “I would really like for you to join me tonight, Deckard. All night.” She hoped that he understood her message, and if he didn’t, then she really needed to work on her flirting skills.

  She watched in rapt awareness as his hand lifted away from the steering wheel and slipped under her chin, caressing her jawline. Deckard’s thumb brushed against her bottom lip, and it took every ounce of strength that she possessed to keep from licking at the appendage. Her stomach clenched as she thought of all the amazing things he could do with that thumb and his hands.

  “I’d love nothing better than to come inside with you.”

  She must have misheard him because she swore that he said to come inside her, but she shook her head to rid herself of those thoughts even though they sounded right up her alley.

  As they walked up toward her porch neither spoke or noticed that the lights in her house and on her porch had been turned on. Deckard halted her immediately as they made their way up to the top step, begging her to give him the key to her house. She floundered as she tried to open her purse.

  Somehow, Deckard effortlessly grabbed the key from her bag and unlocked the door, opening her to a kitchen and living room filled in all its Christmas glory. It was beautiful and classic and January could barely contain herself.

  “Wow,” she murmured as she looked around. String lights lined her kitchen and living room, and the porch was covered in garland and more string lights.

  “January.”

  “When did you do this?”

  “I didn’t. I was with you, remember?” A soft touch cupped her chin in hopes to pull her attention away from the decorations. Deckard added, “If people truly love something or someone, they never forget. It stays with them for their entire life. Maybe the reason your parents were so easy to accept the idea of Christmas is that they still felt their love for the holiday somewhere deep inside.

  They did this while we were gone with Samantha’s help.”

  Tears completely blanketed her eyes, threatening to spill over the corners. She hadn’t ever considered how much people loved the holiday, she only knew about the hate she had felt. Hate that seemed so silly in retrospect. Sharing all the things she remembered about Christmas, things that she had done with her family, made her realize that her hate had always been misplaced. It wasn’t hate that she felt toward Christmas, it was just timing and bad luck that seemed to follow her. And, well, her name. January knew there wasn’t much she could do about that without breaking her parents’ hearts.

  Taking a deep breath, January let the smell of wintergreen and pine fill her lungs. A hint of cinnamon also lingered in the air and she knew that this was a smell she would always remember. Not just of the wintery cold season, but of Christmas. With her head tilted back and eyes closed, she took another inhale. Deckard’s hand had moved from her cheek to her neck and she loved the way his thumb drew lazy circles along her pulse point.

  Slowly opening her eyes, she straightened herself and peered over Deckard’s shoulder, then giggled at what she found behind him. Not a sprig, but a bushel of mistletoe hung in the hallway about a foot away from where they were standing.

  “I think my mom is trying to send us a message.”

  Pointing toward the greenery, Deckard followed the extension of her arm and chuckled as he turned back toward her.

  “Luckily, the reasoning to hang mistletoe hasn’t changed. Or I’m assuming it hasn’t.”

  In the dim lights of the house, Deckard walked backward, pulling January with him, until they were situated just beneath the mistletoe. She waited for the kiss, thinking he would immediately pounce and kiss her senseless, but she should know by now that Deckard wasn’t like everyone else.

  The knit hat she had been wearing was delicately lifted from her head and tossed aimlessly into the livi
ng room. Next, her scarf and coat followed the same path. The way Deckard carefully removed each item felt more intimate than any time she had laid with a lover. A sensual moan drifted between her lips when Deckard’s fingers dove into her hair and started combing through the waves pointing in all different directions from the static.

  January was enjoying the sporadic massage so much that she closed her eyes and let herself focus on the feel of his hands. But then his hands stilled and her eyes opened automatically wondering what had stopped him. What she saw made her heart race.

  He looked at her with complete awe and devotion. January didn’t know how to describe it, but he looked at her like she looked at her favorite pair of shoes. His eyes were soft and crinkled slightly around the edges and the corners of his mouth were just subtly tilted upward. Then January realized something, that was precisely how she was looking at Deckard. Maybe that was how she recognized his feelings; she felt the same.

  Words weren’t spoken as he searched her eyes. One step forward brought their bodies against each other. January’s hands reached out on instinct and slipped inside his unzipped coat to rest on Deckard’s hips. She wanted to feel his lips aligned with hers more than she wanted her next breath.

  Cotton wrinkled under her fingers as she clenched her hands at the moment his full lips brushed against her mouth. Deckard’s kiss was one of the most addictive things January had ever experienced. She couldn’t fight against the impulse to sink into him and to take everything he was willing to give. He used his hands to manipulate the direction of her head, tilting her in the way he desired, and she was happy to be his puppet.

  Prying her hands free from the material of his shirt, January snaked her hands up his chest until they landed on his shoulders. Expertly she slid his coat from his body, regretting that he had to remove his hands from her hair to finish the removal.

  The coat fell onto the floor with a plop and Deckard broke away from the kiss as if the spell had been broken. January wanted to pull him back to her; she yearned to feel his body pressed against her again.