by Emily Lowry
12
Marley
There was only one place more magical than Main Street at Christmastime: Lake Evermore.
The small, alpine lake on the outskirts of town was turned into a winter wonderland each December. Twinkling Christmas lights in a million colors were wrapped around the trees circling the lake to create the romantic Light the Night forest walk that was popular with everybody from loved-up teenagers to octogenarians who’d been married for decades. On the lake itself, ice skaters glided around an enormous Christmas tree that had been erected at the center of the rink. At the edge of the frozen lake, tobogganers careened down the hill, laughing and squealing. On the lakeshore, a pagoda contained a firepit for cold, tired skaters seeking warmth, and Christmas carols were piped through the sound system of a food truck serving hot cocoa and marshmallows for toasting.
“I forgot how magical this place was,” Ryan said, taking in the scene.
I nodded, not taking my eyes off of him. He was dressed like old Ryan today, in a flannel shirt and jeans. He still hadn’t shaved his stubble, and his face was shining in wonder, like he was a kid on Christmas morning.
I couldn’t look away.
“What do you want to do first?” Ryan shot me a dimpled grin. “Hot chocolate? Skating? Marshmallow roasting?”
“Hot chocolate, of course.” I sounded casual, but underneath my flippant tone, every nerve in my body was buzzing.
Ryan and I were on an actual, real-life date. And I hardly knew what to do with myself. First, I’d spent over an hour getting ready this morning, which was exceptionally unlike me. Second, I’d been unable to think of a funny, sarcastic response for three different jokes Ryan had made on the car ride here. And third, I had a seriously irrational fear that I had something in my teeth — even though I’d checked them in the mirror four freaking times.
It was like my brain had fallen out of my head.
Ryan extended a gloved hand to me, and I took it. I wished we didn’t have gloves on, so I could feel his warm skin on mine. But maybe it was for the better. I didn’t want my already detached brain to roll off down the hill or something.
He looked at me, his blue eyes questioning. “Is this weird for you?”
I blushed. “A little. But in a good way.”
The smile I was rewarded with warmed me from the inside.
Once we finished our hot chocolates, we decided to take a turn at tobogganing. I used to love tobogganing as a kid — the sensation of cruising down the steep Lake Evermore hills at top speed was similar to being on a rollercoaster — but as I got older, I didn’t have the same stomach for thrills as I used to.
We pulled our toboggan up the hill and got on. Ryan sat behind me, his legs around my body. He was so close, my entire body tingled.
“Nervous?” he teased.
I turned to look at him, and my heart went haywire as his blue gaze met mine.
“Yup,” I squeaked, hoping he didn’t realize that my nerves were more due to his proximity than the thought of the hill we were about to barrel down.
“Three…” Ryan counted down.
“Two…” I clutched the edges of the toboggan as tightly as I could.
“One…”
I squeezed my eyes shut.
“GO!”
We pushed off, went over the side of the hill, and my stomach jumped straight into my throat.
I screamed, gripping onto the toboggan for dear life. We were going fast — way faster than I’d expected. Ryan was laughing, his arms wrapped tight around me.
I dared to open my eyes for a moment, and was greeted by the blurry sight of pine trees whizzing past me.
And then I saw what lay ahead.
We were heading straight for a huge, lighted Christmas display of Santa’s sleigh being pulled by reindeer.
At top speed.
“Ryan!” I screamed. “Stopppppp!”
We weren’t going to stop in time. There was too much momentum.
We were going to crash into Santa’s sleigh.
And then, I felt Ryan’s body against mine. He wrapped me in a bear hug and rolled to the side, sending us toppling off our wayward toboggan.
CRASH!
We hit the snowy hill at breakneck speed. Ryan’s arms cradled me tightly as we rolled over and over, finally coming to a stop in a huge snowbank.
I was on top of Ryan, legs and arms spreadeagled in an entirely ungraceful fashion. His arms were still around my waist.
I lifted my head and watched our passenger-less toboggan crash into Santa’s sleigh. Luckily, without our weight behind it, no damage was done.
I breathed a sigh of relief, flopping my head back down on Ryan’s chest.
“Are you okay?” he whispered.
“I…” I managed, before a snort escaped me. “I…” I tried again and a massive fit of wheezing, hysterical laughter descended on me.
Ryan peered at me for a moment, and then, apparently satisfied that I wasn’t dead or suffering the effects of a sharp blow to the head, joined in.
We lay in the snow, laughing. I laughed until my lungs hurt and tears coursed down my face. People walked by and stared, but that just made me laugh harder. One young mother quickly shoo-ed her curious toddler away from our carnage, and that set me off all over again.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d laughed so hard. It felt so good, so cathartic, to be carefree for a few perfect minutes.
Eventually, our laughter died down, and Ryan’s hand found mine in the snow.
“Mar?” he said
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
He reached out and brushed the snow from the curls falling into my face. “For being you.”
My heart sped up as his blue eyes locked on mine. It felt like everything was happening in slow motion.
Was he going to kiss me?
At that moment, I wanted him to kiss me more than anything in the world.
Ryan leaned in closer.
I tilted my head, closed my eyes…
“WATCH OUT!” The scream echoed through the chilly winter air. My eyes snapped open to the sight of a toboggan spiralling out of control. And heading right for us.
Ryan and I leaped apart in the nick of time, and the toboggan crashed into the snowbank. The teenage couple who’d been riding it were thrown off into the snow.
“Chase!” The girl shrieked, sitting up and rubbing her head.
“Sorry,” the boy responded bashfully, biting his lip as if trying not to laugh. He shrugged off his letterman jacket and wrapped it around his girlfriend’s shoulders, before turning to us. “And sorry for — uh — interrupting you there. I lost control.”
Ryan clapped him on the shoulder. “No worries, dude. These things happen to the best of us.”
Dusk had now fallen, and deciding that we’d had more than enough adrenaline for one day, Ryan and I decided to take a stroll around the Light the Night forest walk.
It was truly magical. Hand in hand, we wandered around the perimeter of the lake, through endless strands of flashing Christmas lights and beautifully decorated pine trees. Our way was lit by lines of softly flickering lanterns.
We found a quiet clearing, away from everybody else. Above, a million twinkling lights were strung in intricate patterns. From somewhere in the distance, the faint swell of Bing Crosby crooning I’ll Be Home for Christmas carried through the trees.
“I’m so happy you’re home,” I said.
Ryan didn’t answer. He simply wrapped his arms around me. And together, we swayed to the music, letting the melody fall over us. I buried my face in his chest, inhaling the familiar scent of clean laundry and pine.
“Me too,” he murmured into my hair. “And Marley?”
I pulled back slightly, looked up at Ryan. His eyes were glowing.
“Yes?” I whispered.
Again, he didn’t answer. Instead, he ran his fingertips along my cheek, his touch sparking electricity on my
skin. He leaned towards me.
Suddenly, it was hard to breathe.
Shivers ran through my body, as Ryan’s lips met mine, soft and cool and gentle. I fell headfirst into him. I wound my arms around his neck, pulled him closer to me as he deepened a kiss that felt at once like a rollercoaster ride, and curling up in front of a warm fireplace.
It was the best kiss of my life.
And it was with my best friend in the entire world.
I don’t know how long we spent entangled there, completely lost in each other. But when we finally broke apart, it was snowing. Fat white snowflakes fell upon our perfect moment. It was just Ryan and I, alone under a sea of shimmering stars.
13
Marley
“And Mary wrapped the baby in s-s-swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger; because there was no room for them in the inn.” The microphone squeaked, and feedback echoed around the church. Unabashed, the little girl who’d been speaking grinned proudly, adjusted her tinsel “halo,” and then waved at her mother in the audience.
“Ohhh, Aria is up next!” Katherine cooed, recording with her iPhone in the air.
My little niece, playing the Virgin Mary, dutifully walked over to a wooden box and plonked a baby doll in there with terrifying force.
“Yesssss!” Katherine hissed, clenching her fist in victory. “Outstanding.”
She turned to me, flushed and giddy. “Don’t you think she could be a child actress?”
I stared at my sister — who was usually a very sane person — and then glanced back at my niece, who was now picking her nose.
Thankfully, Katherine’s question appeared to be rhetorical. She began snapping pictures of Bella on her lap watching Aria onstage, in some kind of bizarre, child-ception photoshoot.
“I’m just worried the Baby Jesus might have been knocked out,” Ryan murmured in my ear, and I bit back a laugh.
Aria took a moment off from nose-picking to wave cheerily to me. I waved back before flashing her a thumbs-up. She beamed.
The child prodigies onstage then launched into a rousing, off-key chorus of Silent Night, and three tiny little boys with dishcloths on their heads entered the stage, each clutching a fluffy toy sheep.
“Do you think those kids even know what swaddling clothes are?” I whispered back.
He turned to me, wide eyed. “I have literally zero idea what swaddling clothes are. Should I?”
I swallowed another giggle, and Ryan slipped his hand into mine and gave it a squeeze. Ever since our magical kiss two days ago, I’d been on cloud nine. We’d spent all day yesterday at the bakery, making Christmas Crush cookies and, admittedly, making out.
I tilted my head to take in my family, all squeezed into one long church pew: Mom and Dad, who were proud-as-punch grandparents; Katherine and Joe, filming Aria’s every move while balancing baby Bella between them; Annika and her boyfriend Todd, safely home from medical school for the holidays; and, on the end, me and Ryan. My heart was filled with total joy to be sitting here with him — to finally have someone amazing by my side in the family line up.
As long as I didn’t think about what would happen next week when Ryan had to go home to New York, everything was amazing.
Who needed a reality check, anyway? It was Christmas. Christmas was supposed to be magical. My stubborn Marley Beekman brand of optimism had well and truly returned with a bang.
After the Nativity Play drew to a close, we decided to walk over to Peak’s Crossing for frozen yogurt — Aria’s favorite.
The December air was crisp and cold, a gentle snowfall steadily dusting Evermore with a powdered sugar topping.
I leaned my head against Ryan’s shoulder as we walked along Main Street hand in hand. He was deep in a boring conversation with Joe about the computer software his company used, but I was happy walking in silence, content with his solid presence at my side.
But, before I could get too comfortable, Annika grabbed my arm and yanked me away. Her hazel eyes — identical to my own — flashed greedily. “What is the deal with you and Ryan, sis? Spill.”
I sighed. “I don’t know, Annika. We’re… enjoying Christmas.”
“But what happens after?” Her gloved hand tightened on my arm.
“What do you mean?” I said. “Ryan lives in New York. He’ll go home.”
Annika’s eyes narrowed. “What, and do long distance? You guys are together, right?”
“I told you, I don’t know. I have no idea. We haven’t discussed anything.”
“You should.”
I knew my little sister was right. But I didn’t want to admit that to her. I wanted to live in optimistic Marley-land where everything was sugar-coated.
“I will, Annika.” I crossed my fingers behind my back as I said it. Reality was just too… real to deal with right now.
My phone rang, giving me a welcome exit from the conversation.
“Two secs, let me get this,” I told my sister and then answered my phone. “Hello?”
“Hello, may I please speak to Marley Beekman?”
“Speaking,” I said. Who on earth was this?
“Ms. Beekman, I am calling in regards to your premises on Main Street.”
14
Ryan
Marley clutched her phone to her ear, her pretty eyes getting wider by the second. What was going on?
“Who is it?” I mouthed at her.
She held up a hand and shook her head in response.
A jolt of fear shot through me. Was it her ex-boyfriend? A potential boyfriend looking for a date?
Since our first kiss two days ago, Marley and I hadn’t discussed what it all meant. Hadn’t labeled anything. I so badly wanted to ask her to be my girlfriend, but there was an elephant in the room: I was due to fly back to New York next week. I needed to talk to her about that. As soon as I could.
I glanced down at my own phone and smiled. It was so peaceful now without Krista texting me orders for projects every five minutes. I couldn’t wait to share my news with Marley.
The rest of the Beekman family filed into Peak’s Crossing, but I waited outside with Marley, who was now pacing back and forth, mumbling “yes” and “I see” a lot.
When she finally got off the phone, I was a bundle of nerves. Marley was ghostly pale, her eyes dark. I smiled at her gently, giving her space to talk when she was ready.
“That was the Bank of the Rockies on the phone,” Marley said.
I frowned. “Was your account compromised or something?”
“Actually, I don’t bank with them.” Marley shifted her weight from foot to foot. Something was wrong.
“What’s going on?” I asked her.
“They want to buy the bakery.”
“WHAT?” I couldn’t conceal my shock — that was about the last thing I expected her to say. “Why?”
“The premises are, apparently, the ideal place to put a new bank branch — they’ve been looking for a spot along Main Street for ages. And Evermore considers them a local company, so they’ll get approval from the town council. They want to buy me out. It’s a good offer, Ryan.”
The blood drained from my face. “But… your bakery… all your hard work.”
Marley looked at the ground. “Let’s face reality, Ryan. I’m failing. I’m not making enough money to hire anyone, and I’m working myself to the bone. If I took this offer, it would look after me financially until I was able to get back on my feet.”
“This is a big decision, Marley. It’s not something you should take lightly. When do you have to give them your answer?”
“They want an answer in two days. They need to close the deal before Christmas.”
“You’ve worked too hard for this.”
“We gave out some cookie samples. It’s not enough. We haven’t even come up with a name for the place.”
Where had my best friend, the eternal optimist, gone?
“I can help you, Mar. You need to believe in yourself.”
“It’s
time to face the facts.” Marley’s voice was raised, her face flushed.
I had a feeling we were now talking about more than the bakery.
Marley sighed. “What’s the other option? You help me for another few days, and then what? You go back to your fancy life in New York with your fancy job and the fancy girls you date, and you don’t come back for another three years? I can’t do this alone anymore, Ryan. This offer is giving me an out.”
My throat constricted painfully. “You think I’m just going to leave you high and dry after Christmas? Go back to New York and pretend this never happened?”
Marley’s eyes narrowed. “You already left once.”
She spun on heel and walked into Peak’s, leaving me alone, outside in the cold.
I had no response to give her. I could’ve told her that I never wanted to leave. That I should never have left. That I should’ve stayed and fought for her.
But none of that mattered. Whatever my motivations had been, there was no denying the fact that what she said was true: I did leave.
And the truth hurt.
15
Marley
I didn’t sleep well the night of the Nativity play.
The house was too cold. The saxophonist upstairs was wailing out jazzy Christmas tunes until all hours. The excessive amount of peanut brittle-topped Peak’s yogurt I’d eaten had given me indigestion. And, as if that wasn’t enough, Meatloaf took up most of the bed. When I did manage to doze off, I had vivid nightmares where I dropped Annika’s special stethoscope cake and the Bank of the Rockies charged me five thousand dollars to clean up the mess.
But those things were minor when compared to the mess of thoughts surrounding my argument with Ryan. We never argued. Ever. And I’d never seen those deep blue eyes hold so much hurt — it was as if I’d slapped him with my words.
It was a cheap shot I’d taken, especially after he’d confessed his reasons for leaving, and told me how much he’d missed me. I wanted to believe that if he could do it over again, he wouldn’t leave in the first place.