by Maine, Miley
I felt like a little kid again, gaping at the number of presents. My mom had had a hand in this most likely. She liked for our Christmas celebrations to be large and full of joy, and she was a master at wrapping presents.
She volunteered every year, in fact, wrapping and buying presents for those who were less fortunate. It was a passion of hers, as she wanted to make sure that no one felt like they were alone on Christmas day.
My mom poked her head out of the dining room then, a large smile on her face and flour on the apron that she was wearing over her pajamas.
“Breakfast is ready in here,” she said. “I baked a fresh pie.”
“Oh yum,” Grayson said next to me, grabbing my hand and pulling me with him into the kitchen.
My dad was already seated at the table, and my mom was just taking off her apron and sitting down. The three of us joined them, and then dug into the beautiful breakfast that my mom had prepared for us.
It felt so peaceful, and joyful, unlike the day before. Now nobody was fighting, and there seemed to be a sense of understanding that had been missing before.
Once we were finished with breakfast, the five of us headed into the living room to start the festivities of the day.
There were so many presents to be opened, so many thank you’s to be exchanged. We waited a few more minutes so that my mom could bring us all a cup of hot cocoa, and then we began opening presents one at a time.
It took us several hours to get through all of them. Those few hours were filled with lots of laughs and even a few tears as heartfelt words were exchanged. I didn’t feel like I could want anything else for the day, and it didn’t seem like there would be anything else, but fate had a different plan.
“I think that’s everything,” my mom said after taking one final look under the tree.
“Wait,” Grayson said. “I have one more.
I looked to him curiously, none the wiser, until he faced me and got down on one knee.
My heart beat fast in my chest, and I thought that it was going to burst. This couldn’t be happening. No way could this be happening. Could it?
“Serenity, perhaps this is too hasty of me, but I am sure in my conviction. You are the only one for me. This doesn’t have to be an engagement if you don’t want to be, but let it be a promise to you, that I will be by your side, through all that happens, and especially through the birth of our child. I want to be the best partner and father that I can, and you make me want to strive to continue to be better.
“So I ask you, on this Christmas day, with your family as our witnesses, will you do me the great honor of accepting this ring.”
He took out a ring box from his jacket pocket, and opened it up to reveal the most beautiful diamond that I had ever seen. It was set in a simple platinum band, but it said all the words that I needed it to say.
How could I say no?
“Yes, a thousand times yes,” I said, letting Grayson slip the ring onto my finger and then sweep me up into a hug. “I will always say yes.”
He kissed my cheek, then pulled back to look at me. “Good, because I love you and intend to care for you for all of our days.”
I leaned back in to hug him, and whisper in his ear, “Thank you, this is the best Christmas present that I ever could have asked for.”
Stranded
Blurb
All I want for Christmas is to convince my gorgeous bad boy that he has a chance at love -- with me.
I had it all -- great friends, a happy family, and a loving boyfriend.
And for Christmas, I expected a romantic proposal.
But that night, I walked in on my boyfriend.
He had another woman in his bed.
My perfect life was a lie.
Heartbroken, I ran, all the way to a remote Utah resort, where I met a sexy mountain man.
He lived his life on his own terms, in a cabin in the woods.
But deep inside, he was covering up his own pain.
He was nothing like my ex -- he was older than me, a former Air Force Pilot, and more of a bad boy than a gentleman.
But this gorgeous guy made me want to take risks, with my body, and with my heart.
I might be a virgin, but I was determined to make him notice me.
I got his attention in a different way, when I nearly died on a snowy hill.
He rescued me from certain death.
Stranded together in a snowstorm, we celebrated Christmas.
But his life was not as simple as it appeared.
This trip turned into more than just a good time.
I’m in love with my rugged mountain man.
Will I ever break through the wall around his heart?
With the odds stacked against us, can I show my handsome mountain man that Christmas really is the most wonderful time of the year?
1
Bethany
“Do you think Winston will pop the question tonight?”
My best friend Mia was asking the question that I’d been wondering about for a few weeks now.
I couldn’t suppress my smile as I arranged the fresh garland over the mantle. “I think he will.” I kept my voice low. I glanced across our living room where my mother and our interior decorator were finishing the main Christmas tree. It was a big space but I did not want my mother to hear what I was saying.
My boyfriend had been elusive all day.
Mia pressed her hands over her heart. “I cannot wait to see your ring.”
“He knows I want to get engaged at Christmas.”
“And then you have a year-long engagement and get married next Christmas.”
“Exactly,” I said.
Mia and I finished the garland and joined my other good friend Emmaline in the kitchen. This was my favorite night of the year. The Annual Christmas Tour of Homes. We lived on the street with the most Christmas spirit; every year, every single house on our street was decorated for Christmas. We did not just string lights and hang stockings. We decorated every single room. Even the bathrooms had their own small Christmas trees.
For $15 a person, anyone could tour our homes. We raised thousands of dollars for the local children's hospital. My best friends Mia and Emmaline lived on the same street too. But their mothers hired professional decorators to handle every detail. My mother was a busy lawyer at a non-profit, and she did hire a decorator to help, but she enjoyed picking the decorations out herself. As did I. Emmaline and Mia had been joining us since we were all about six years old.
My fifteen-year-old sister was not as interested in our house. She was locked in her bedroom, irritated that a passel of strangers would soon be parading through our home all night. My ten-year-old brother was excited. My mother had allowed him to display a Star Wars themed tree in his room, complete with a stormtrooper helmet on top.
“Time to start the music,” Emmaline said. She disappeared into my father’s study. She’d been in charge of the playlist since we were fourteen. My dad even had an account for her on his computer, and the house had tiny speakers wired into the ceiling in every room, just for this special night.
Emmaline favored traditional music, and an instrumental version of Silver Bells began to play throughout the house.
“Scents are next!” Mia called out. In the kitchen, she sliced oranges and sprinkled cinnamon on top and then added it to a simmering pot of water. She tossed in some clives and the smell of Christmas would soon fill the kitchen and dining area.
My mother smiled at us as we posed in front of the fireplace for our annual photo. We always wore festive dresses that were cut in a 1950’s party style. I wore red, Emma wore green, and Mia wore silver.
My father was in the foyer setting up the snacks and drinks, which he’d serve with a Santa hat. Mia’s dad usually showed up to help, because her mother hired caterers to handle their food.
I looked at my watch. Winston was usually here by now. He must be fine-tuning the proposal.
Emmaline rushed past me with the carafe we used
for apple cider in her hands. “I bet he’s late because he’s getting everything ready.”
“I bet you’re right.” Winston wasn’t romantic at all, but he was flashy. He liked showing off. If it were up to me I would prefer a quiet proposal, with just the two of us, but one of his fraternity brothers had already popped the question to his girlfriend. His frat brother made sure there was a photographer there along with about fifteen of their friends.
“I wonder what size carat he’s going to buy,'' Mia said.
“A diamond has to be at least two carats. Maybe three,” Emma said.
I hoped he didn’t go any bigger than that. I didn’t want to be ostentatious. But with Winston, the bigger the better.
We all had one more semester at the University of Arkansas at Fayetteville before graduation, and he’d want me to be wearing a big ring when we got back.
The first guests begin to trickle in. We recognized them. The same people tended to come year after year. They were neighbors and colleagues of my dad’s from the hospital, and colleagues of my mom from her law firm. In addition, all of our friends from the private high school we had graduated from showed up too.
Once the crowd got more sizable, I didn’t have time to think. I was busy giving tours and answering questions about where we’d gotten the decor.
This year we even decorated the backyard. We had a live Douglas Fir tree next to the pool, and in the pool we had floating lanterns that illuminated the dark water.
At 11:00 pm, the last guests were trickling out. It was just me and my parents and Emmaline and Mia downstairs.
My mom looked around. “Honey where is Winston? Did I miss him?”
That’s when I realized he’d never shown up.
I checked my watch. No text from him either, or missed call.
Emmaline handed me a glass of champagne. She handed Mia a glass of eggnog. “Another successful home tour,” she said.
As for Winston, I bet some of his friends showed up and they lost track of time. I was lucky that Mia and Emmaline had gone to Fayetteville with me for college. But one of Winston’s friends had gone to Baylor and one had gone to Purdue.
My mom hugged the three of us. “I love you girls.” She kissed the top of my head. “What am I going to do when you girls are all married with your own family?”
The four of us stood in a circle, with our arms around each other, hugging. Mia laughed. “Oh Miss Susan! You know we’ll still be back here for Christmas. We wouldn’t miss it.”
“Of course we won’t.” Spending Christmas in my family home would be non-negotiable. Luckily, Winston lived just one street over. We would never have to debate whose family we spent Christmas with.
“I’m going to head over to his house and surprise him.”
My dad, who had just stepped into the room and snapped a candid picture of our group frowned. “It’s awfully late to walk down the street by yourself.”
“We’ll go with her,” my friends said.
My dad kissed me on the cheek. “We had a record night. We raised thousands of dollars for Children’s Hospital.”
“That’s wonderful. I can’t wait to deliver it.” A news crew would be there filming as we’ll hand over the check to the hospital CEO next week.
The three of us linked arms, just as we had as young children, and stepped out into the street.
None of us bothered with our coats, even though we were met with frigid air. It had been fifty degrees Farentheit when the tour started, but now it was closer to thirty-two degrees. “The temperature’s dropped.”
“Maybe it will snow!”
It barely snowed in Little Rock. We were lucky if we got one good covering per year. A white Christmas would be extra special.
Mia leaned her head on my shoulder. “That will make your engagement even better.”
Emmaline shivered and leaned in closer. “Imagine the pictures!”
Winston’s parents weren’t home. They were at a charity gala for Alztimer’s that was being hosted in the Governor’s mansion, and he was an only child. I knocked, and rang the doorbell, but no one showed up. I keyed in the code that would open his front door. I’d had it for years, just as he had a code to my house.
The house was silent. “I assumed his friends would be here.”
“Maybe they went out,” Emmaline said.
The three of us headed up stairs to the game room. They had a pool table and a theater room. It was empty. Now I was worried.
“I’ll check his bedroom,” I said, and Mia and Emma went back downstairs to wait.
Winston’s bedroom door was only half closed, but the light was on. I pushed it open, expecting to see him and his two buddies from high school.
But he wasn’t with his buddies. He was lying on his bed, with his shirt off, and he wasn’t alone.
A woman was straddling him.
Her shirt was off too. In fact, she was practically naked. She wore a lacy black bra and black panties and her hands were on his belt buckle.
Next to them, lay an unopened condom. Winston and I had never even had sex.
I screamed.
Winston grabbed the girl by the hips and lifted her off of him. He shot up off the bed. “Beth! What the hell are you doing here?”
“I came to check on you, you piece of shit!”
I heard footsteps on the wooden staircase, and behind me, Mia and Emmaline each grabbed one of my arms.
His face was crimson as he buckled his belt. “You can’t just barge into my house.”
I lunged forward, but I didn’t get far, thanks to my friends holding me back. “You gave me the access code, you dumbass! I was worried! You said you were coming over!”
Winston had nothing to say. We’d always gone back and forth between each other’s homes.
He glanced toward the bathroom where the girl had escaped. “Who is she?” I demanded.
“No one you know,” he said.
“Do your parents know about her?”
“No. Of course not.”
Suddenly, Mia was in my ear. “Come on. We need to get out of here.”
“And you’re not going to tell them,” Winston said.
Emmaline held up her hand. “I don’t think you get to call the shots right now, Winston.”
“I swear to God, Emma, if you--”
I jerked away from my friends and got in his face. “Do not threaten her. Do not even speak to her.” I pointed at him. “I won’t tell your parents. Because I want you to do it yourself. Goodbye Winston.”
“Beth, wait,” He tried to grab my arm, but Mia blocked him.
I managed to hold it together until we got to his front porch. Not wanting to be caught crying on his surveillance cameras, I took off running.
2
Logan
White sand sparkled, and the azure blue of the ocean gleamed. Anyone would be thrilled to be here. Except me.
I was in the process of flying some rich assholes to the Punta Gorda airport from Belize City. They wanted to snorkel or scuba dive or who the hell knows. I had quit listening to their long ramble about how they usually went to The Grand Cayman Islands, but they wanted to try something new this year.
Was Belize beautiful? Yes.
But it was December, and it was eighty fucking degrees. That was great for all the revelers who wanted to wear bikinis and lie in the sun.
I was fucking sick of the sand. I was sick of the surf. I was even sick of the seafood.
I wanted to go home.
For me, December meant snow, cold and skiing.
But for the last ten years, quite a few of my Decembers were spent in the desert overseas. Now I just wished I could hibernate and skip Christmas all together.
It was a day I didn’t want to relive.
Ever.
When December 24th rolled around, I was going to retire to my room with a bottle of Jack Daniels and I wasn’t coming out until New Year’s Day.
I got the rich assholes out of the plane, where their boa
t captain was waiting on them. As usual, he offered me a ride. I accepted. What else was I going to do? Sit in the airport and stare at the beige walls?
His first language was Creole, but he spoke English too. I hadn’t picked up much of the Creole, but I could get by with Spanish if the person was patient with me.
We sat in the boat while the tourists frolicked in the crystal clear water. He handed me a bottle of rum and I waved him off. I hadn’t sunk so low that I’d risk my clients’ lives by flying while drunk. I might hate them, but I didn’t want them dead.
The boat captain and I passed the time in silence, every now and then remarking on the fish that drifted by, and eventually I made it back to the boarding house where I was renting a room in Belize City.
I pushed the door open. I had my hand on my knife before I even realized. I had a gun stashed in my room, but I hadn’t applied for a permit. It took too fucking long. So I carried a knife with me at all times.
I had it raised and ready to throw before my mind connected the dots.
“Cameron,” I said, dropping my arm to my side. “What the hell. If I had my gun, you’d be dead.”
He scoffed. “I know all of your tricks.”
That much was true. We’d been partners in the CIA for years. He knew me better than anyone on the planet did.
I settled into the rickety chair by the wall. The room I was renting wasn’t much. The walls were a dull gray. There was no closet, only a rack. The bed was hard and lumpy, and everything smelled like smoke.
“Sit down,” I said, waving at the bed.
Cameron looked at the mattress. The ratty sheets were tangled on top in a heap. “No thanks. I think I’ll stand.”
I sighed and got up, kicking the chair toward him. I sat on the bed myself.
“Come back,” he said.
“I've already told you I'm not coming back.”
I knew it was hard for Cameron to understand. After all, he’d lost more than I had that day, one year ago. He lost everything, but he didn't walk away from the CIA. He planned to stay until he died.