Christmas With You

by Heidi McLaughlin

  “Why would he have this?” I mumbled to myself. It wasn’t a staged photograph like the racing ones. It was a candid black-and-white shot, taken in an unguarded moment that blended in seamlessly with the rest of the family memories. I remembered the moment vividly. The two of us were examining a Formula One engine. It was the first Formula One engine I’d ever seen, and I’d been like a kid at Christmas, full of energy and enthusiasm and bombarding Ronnie with a million questions faster than he could answer them. In the picture, I was smiling at the camera, and he was looking at me with such a fierce expression of pride. To a stranger, we’d look like father and son.

  “Why wouldn’t he have it?” Nancy asked.

  “Because he hated me in the end. He was so disappointed with me for partying so hard and not making the most of my opportunities,” I said.

  “Sit down, Jensen,” she ordered, patting at the seat next to her. I obeyed without question.

  “He was never disappointed in you. He was disappointed in himself,” she explained.

  “Why?” I asked in complete shock.

  “You were twenty-three when you hit the Formula One circuit. Jensen, that’s almost completely unprecedented. You went from poverty one minute to having the world at your feet the next. What young man with those same opportunities wouldn’t make the same choices you made?

  “If Ronnie was disappointed, it’s because he felt as though he hadn’t prepared you enough or shielded you enough from the hordes of people who all wanted a piece of you. People who take and take and take until there’s nothing left. He didn’t want that kind of life for you.

  “But don’t ever think he hated you, or that he was angry. He loved you, Jensen, and he was so proud of you. It was his own stupid pride kept him from calling. In fact, if you both hadn’t made up by Christmas, the girls and I had planned to stage an intervention and bang both your heads together until you saw sense.”

  “If I’d just picked up the phone,” I said, swallowing hard. “But now it’s too late.”

  “Messing things up only means we’re human. It’s how we deal with these things that define who we are. You can either accept your mistakes and learn from them or you can let them consume you. If you want to make peace with your past, you have to make peace with yourself. Remember what he taught you, remember the love he had for you, and live a good life. Be happy. And I promise he’ll be smiling down on you wherever he is,” she said.

  “How did he get lucky enough to find you, Nancy?” I asked, genuinely floored by the size of this woman’s heart and her capacity to show so much compassion when she must be in so much pain.

  “Oh, I said no quite a few times, believe me. My parents wanted me to marry a nice doctor, so you can imagine how they felt about the idea of Ronnie and me. It didn’t matter that he went on to run a successful Formula One team. Up until the day he died, my dad thought of him as a glorified grease monkey. But Lord that man could charm the birds down from the trees. He wore me down until I said yes, and not once did I ever regret my decision. I wish the same thing for you, my boy,” she said.

  “With the kind of life I lead? Traveling the world, chasing race after race. It would take a miracle to find a girl who could fall in love with a guy like me,” I said.

  “I believe that everything that happens in the universe happens for a reason. Sometimes you need to experience the bad to recognize the good. Your miracle will come, Jensen. Just you wait and see. Christmas is a time for miracles, and if you and I haven’t earned some good news, I don’t know who has,” she replied. “Now, let’s put the kettle on shall we? I know how you Brits love a nice cup of tea in a crisis.”

  “What would you say if I told you I’d met someone here in town?” I said sheepishly. It worried me that she might find my interest in Lauren disrespectful to Ronnie’s memory, given that the only reason I was in town was for his funeral.

  “Jensen, that’s wonderful news! Who is she? How did you meet?” Nancy asked.

  “Her name is Lauren Matthews, and she’s amazing,” I said, leaning against her kitchen counter as she puttered about making tea.

  “Stephen Matthew’s daughter?” she asked as she stopped to turn and face me.

  “Is that her father’s name?” I replied.

  “Jensen, be very careful. Stephen Matthews has only been here a couple of weeks, but he’s already made quite a name for himself. He’s trouble, and if that girl is made of the same stuff as her father, she’s bad news,” Nancy said sternly.

  “She seems really nice, Nancy, honestly. But thanks for the warning. I’ll keep it in mind,” I replied.

  I wanted so badly to defend Lauren’s honor. To argue that she was a good person. But Nancy was the widow of the only father I’d ever had. Her opinion was important to me, and more importantly, I couldn’t face disappointing her like I’d disappointed Ronnie.

  “You do that, Jensen. She’s exactly the sort of girl Ronnie wanted you to stay away from.”

  Chapter Seven

  Lauren

  A heaviness settled in my heart after Jensen and I parted ways, but I tried not to let it get me down for too long. One night I was sleeping on the streets and eating out of a Dumpster, and the next I was enjoying a great meal courtesy of the hottest guy I’d ever met. If that wasn’t the sign I needed that things were finally beginning to go my way, I don’t know what was.

  “You did a great job today. Have you done any waitressing before?” Jill asked, and I felt my cheeks pink up with pride. I’d worked my fingers to the bone from the minute I’d clocked in that morning. Even when the place was empty, which wasn’t often given the pretty continuous stream of Christmas shoppers, I’d busied myself wiping down tables or polishing cutlery.

  “Thanks. I’ve done a little bit in various towns we’ve lived in, but we moved around a lot, so I never got to stay in the same place for long,” I explained. Much to my chagrin, it was the reason why I couldn’t give my new boss any references.

  I truly wanted to believe that this was it though. That my move to Friendship was permanent. That I’d finally be able to put down roots in the town where one day I might have my own family. But life rarely hands you a win without first throwing you a curve ball. And I couldn’t help but feel as though my curve ball was coming.

  I was fourteen the last time we’d lived in a real house. My last memory of the place was of a tirade of abuse directed at me from our angry next-door neighbor, an unwitting victim of one of Dad’s scams. Of course, Dad never called them scams, referring to each and every one instead as a series of bad investments, from which he and he alone seemed to profit.

  Dad tried for years to include me in his machinations, but I held out, determined to live a better life than the one he offered me. Eventually though, life and my father wore me down. Despite my best efforts to be a good girl, anyone who knew my father looked at me with suspicion and mistrust. Without my help, he would have been in prison sooner rather than later, and I would’ve ended up in foster care. Most people thought I was a criminal anyway, so I did what he wanted.

  When Dad told me where we were moving, I thought he was crazy. The cities were big and easy to get lost in, but small towns meant that someone was always watching. Now that we were actually here, I was even more worried. He was drinking like money grew on trees, so he must be assured of getting it from somewhere, and I guessed that he had something big in the pipeline. It didn’t bode well for the future I had planned here, but no matter what happened, I was done running. My life was mine and mine alone, and I was going to make the most of it, whether Dad liked it or not.

  “Well, you keep working like you did today, and you’ll have more shifts than you know what to do with,” she said.

  “Sounds good to me,” I replied, sharing her smile.

  “Listen, I couldn’t tempt you into taking some of the leftovers home, could I? We get a fresh batch of cakes and cookies in from the bakery every morning, so we split up the leftovers at the end of the day,” she said.
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  “As long as you’re sure, that would be great, thank you. Everything smelled so delicious today. I would love to try some when I get home,” I said, trying so hard not to let a note of desperation seep into my voice.

  “Believe me, there’s plenty to go around, honey. I’ll leave a bag for you in the kitchen. Just pick it up on your way out.”

  “Thanks, Jill,” I replied, checking over all of my tables before I clocked out.

  As I left, I grabbed the paper bag marked with my name and practically skipped out of work as I glimpsed at the contents. Cupcakes, brownies, chips, sandwiches, sub rolls. It was a veritable feast, and that night Gabe definitely wasn’t going hungry.

  Snowflakes danced through the chilly evening air, and I wrapped my coat a little tighter around myself, more than a little worried about Gabe sleeping rough in this weather. When I finally reached the fast food joint, I hurried around to the back to the Dumpsters, finding nothing but disappointment. The boxes and blankets had all gone, and an extra Dumpster stood in the place that had been our shelter. I hoped the restaurant hadn’t made him move on, because I had no idea where else to look for him.

  Just then I heard my name being called. Looking up, I saw Gabe across the street. His frame was huddled against the cold, but he lifted a hand to wave at me anyway, a smile of acknowledgment spread across his face. I was so excited to see him, so keen to share my bounty, that I ran across the road without thinking. The ugly screech of brakes being slammed warned me of my stupidity, but it was too late to take any action other than to wince and brace for the hit. By the time I opened my eyes, the driver was already out of his vehicle and in front of me.

  “You know we have to stop meeting like this,” Jensen said, his husky British accent making my pulse race.

  “I’m beginning to think you’re stalking me, you know,” I replied, smiling with happiness.

  “Lauren, if there’s anyone in this town worth stalking, I promise it’s you.”

  “I’m not sure whether to be flattered or worried,” I replied.

  “Where were you going in such an all-fire hurry anyway?” he asked.

  “I was trying to catch up with …” I turned to look for Gabe but realized as I spoke that he was gone. My gaze darted back and forth between the buildings and along the street, teeming with people walking toward the center of town.

  “Who?” Jensen asked.

  “His name is Gabe. He’s a homeless guy I met a couple of days ago, but I think you scared him off. I was bringing him something to eat,” I explained.

  “Maybe he’ll come back when the crowds have thinned out a little.”

  “Why is it so busy anyway?” I asked in confusion.

  “Nancy mentioned that it was the annual Christmas lighting ceremony tonight. I was feeling restless, so I thought I’d come and check it out. Care to join me?” he asked.

  I paused without knowing why. My mind was made up the minute he stepped in front of me. It felt so good to see him again that turning down the opportunity to spend an hour or two together seemed pointless. I’d miss him terribly when he was gone, but I was done trying to push him away before he had to leave.

  “I’d love to,” I replied.

  “And if you haven’t eaten, maybe we could have dinner together again afterward?” he asked somewhat sheepishly, as though he was pressing his luck and expected me to turn him down. This time I bit my lip anxiously as I thought about my reply. Of course I wanted to accept, but it didn’t seem fair for him to pay two nights in a row.

  “Does that look mean you want to turn me down, but you’re not sure how without being rude?” he asked.

  “It means that I want to buy you dinner, but I don’t get paid until Saturday,” I answered honestly. “It’s not fair for you to pay for another meal when you paid the hospital bill and bought me dinner last night.”

  “I see your dilemma. The only thing that sounds fair is for you to pay for our next date on Saturday,” he answered, the corner of his mouth turning up in a smile.

  “Oh, we’re going out Saturday as well, are we?” I answered teasingly.

  “Well, if you’re asking, thank you very much. I’d love to go out with you again. Now, why don’t you hop in the truck while I look for a parking space, and we can see what all the fuss is about with these lights.”

  Chapter Eight

  Lauren

  In the end, we had to drive around for ages until we found somewhere to park. It seemed like the entire town had driven in just for this event. It took us ten minutes to walk back to the green, where we found ourselves at the back of a big crowd. The air was perfumed with the delicious scent of spiced apple cider, and I groaned as I smelled hot chocolate, making Jensen chuckle.

  “Be right back,” he said, disappearing into the throng only to emerge a few minutes later with a cup of the very thing I’d been craving.

  “Here you go,” he said, passing it to me.

  “I think I love you.” I sighed, expecting him to laugh at my reply, but he had a strange look on his face I couldn’t begin to decipher.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, thank you so much for coming this evening,” the man I heard someone say was the town’s mayor, began from the stage ahead.

  I shivered with cold, but as I tentatively sipped at the chocolate, I slowly began to thaw out. When Jensen slipped in behind me, steadying his hands on my waist against the jostle of the horde, I felt the warmth of his body through both of our coats. I tried to concentrate on the mayor’s speech, but it was impossible. All I could think about, all I could focus on, was Jensen’s thumb, lazily drawing circles on my hip.

  Around us, couples, friends, and families all watched with excitement for that magical moment that signaled the start of the countdown to Christmas. It was easy to get caught up in it all. For one night, it felt like we were any other couple, enjoying the magic of Christmas with loved ones.

  “Five, four, three, two, one,” I heard the mob shout, and then the enchanting glow of what must have been thousands of lights illuminated the town square. Just at that moment, an icy cold snowflake landed on my nose, and I tilted my face upward so that I could watch them fall from the sky, embracing the magic of the moment. I hadn’t even realized that I was leaning into Jensen’s embrace. It just felt natural to be in his arms.

  “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” I said.

  It sure is,” he replied in a tone that had me looking up at him. I expected him to be as captivated by the snow as I was, but he wasn’t looking at the lights. His eyes were focused on me so intently that I shivered.

  “Fancy getting out of here? We can beat the crowd and head for dinner?” he said, leaning closer to whisper into my ear. His breath was warm against my face, and I nodded my head in agreement as I struggled to focus my lust-addled brain into forming actual sentences.

  The crowd was marveling at Santa, who had just arrived in a rather impressive sleigh, and it was heartwarming to hear the excitement of all the children jostling for the best view. Dumping my empty cup in a trash can, I followed behind Jensen as he negotiated a path through the crowd. When I fell behind, he reached back for my hand so that we wouldn’t be split up.

  Long after we’d made it through the throng, our hands remained that way, our fingers threaded tightly together, his thumb brushing against mine. I couldn’t remember ever holding hands with someone. That such a simple act could feel so special and intimate, that it could make me feel so connected to someone, was quite profound. I didn’t connect with people. Ever. When they looked at me, people saw what they wanted to see. In some cases, what I allowed them to see. But Jensen saw the real me, and still he wanted to hold my hand. And I wanted him to. So much that I didn’t want to let him go.

  We walked a fair way, and I followed blindly, not really concentrating on where we were going or even caring. I would have been happy with a sandwich as long as we ate together. That was until we walked through the doors of Grumpy’s Bar and Grill. I caught sight of Dad
at the bar as usual, hunched protectively over his beer and talking animatedly with a guy I didn’t recognize. I was desperate to go unnoticed. If my dad saw me with Jensen, he’d immediately peg him as a mark, and it would only be a matter of time before he tried to exploit my connection with him to try and rope me into one of his scams. I wanted nothing more than to part ways with Dad, but until I could afford a place to live, that just wasn’t an option. So avoiding him seemed the best tactic for the moment.

  “Look, I’ve changed my mind about dinner. Can we just go please?” I said, pulling on Jensen’s arm.

  “Why? It’s not even that busy yet. If we grab a table quickly, we could eat and be done before the masses roll in,” he replied. I knew that arguing with him would only draw attention to us, so, with a heavy heart, I slipped my hand from his and made my way back out into the cold. Seconds later, I could hear his heavy footsteps behind me, but I didn’t slow down, ignoring his pleas for me to wait.

  Eventually, he ran in front of me and grabbed me by the shoulders, forcing me to stop.

  “Talk to me,” he said. It was his gentle tone that undid me. He had every right to just walk away. I had been unspeakably rude in the face of his kindness, and my mood had swung, from warm and congenial to frosty and ignorant.

  “My dad’s in there. The same one that taught me how to lift your wallet. He’s drinking away whatever money he’s managed to con or swindle out of his latest victim, and I don’t want him seeing you as his next one,” I admitted, looking down in shame. “And if I’m honest, I don’t want you looking at me differently, either, and believe me you will when you see what bad stock I come from.”