by Kate Kisset
Maybe he didn’t have to make a decision. Perhaps the airline would do it for him. Trace checked his departure time. It wasn’t unheard of for flights to be cancelled on Christmas Eve, especially those heading to LaGuardia. His heart raced while he scrolled through the airline app in his phone. If it were cancelled, he’d be forced to lengthen the trip at least one more day. He groaned. Unfortunately, the plane was scheduled to leave on time, departing out of Oakland at one o’clock.
Shrugging, he grabbed Lola and his carry-on and packed them in the trunk of his rental. Stopping in the kitchen on the way back to the stairs, he looked for Monique. Seeing no reason to hang out since she wasn’t there, he politely passed on the breakfast Loretta offered.
Back in the lavender room, Trace examined the space for anything he might’ve forgotten. He’d left nothing behind except Adele and Monique’s gifts. After scooping them up and balancing the boxes in his arms, he trudged down the steps and into the living room. Monique and Adele were nowhere to be found.
Sighing, he knelt in front of the Christmas tree and scoped out the perfect location to deposit his packages. He wished he could be there to see Adele’s eyes light up in surprise when she spotted his present. Trace tucked the gift under one of Loretta’s bright gold beaded ornaments, next to a holly-covered package from Arizona.
“You didn’t have to buy any presents.” He swung around to Monique. She had her hair piled up in a bun and strands of honey colored hair tumbled around her cheeks. In jeans and a white T-shirt, she took his breath away.
“This one’s for you.” He held up her gift and placed it in front of the pile. “Please open it at eight o’clock tomorrow morning. It will be eleven in New York. We’ll think of each other at the exact same time on Christmas morning.”
He straightened and held out his arms. “Monique, please. This is killing me.” She shrugged and came to him, and nestled into his shoulder. “Why does it always have to end this way?” Trace let go of a shuddering breath and buried his head into the curve of her neck.
“I don’t know. I could never figure it out,” she said, wrapping her arms around his waist. Before he could tell her, before he could form the words, Monique surprised him and raised her voice. “Let me walk you out,” she said patting him on the back. “Adele, Nana, Trace is leaving.” She pulled away and he couldn’t tell what was running through her brain. She didn’t appear upset. “I don’t want a big emotional good-bye, okay?”
This wasn’t his plan. Trace thought they'd have a private moment and make arrangements to see each other again.
Adele barreled into the room with white powder covering the front of her sequined Christmas kitty shirt. Loretta trailed behind.
“If you can wait another ten minutes, you can take some cookies home with you,” Loretta offered.
“Thanks, Nana.” Monique grasped Adele’s hand. “But Trace has to catch his flight. We don’t want to keep him.”
“It’s been a pleasure, Trace.” Loretta extended her hand, but he gave her a hug anyway.
“Thanks for everything.”
Trace crouched in front of Adele. His eyes welled and he blinked back unexpected tears. “I’ll tell Dirty Harry you said hi.” He tapped her nose with his index finger. And just like he’d seen Loretta and Monique do during his stay, he wrapped his arms around her and straightened lifting her up with him. He brought her to his face and Adele’s kiss on the cheek broke his heart with the sound alone. After kissing her, Trace quickly put her down, hoping to avoid a crying jag because it would only make this ordeal worse. What was he thinking? Nothing could be worse than this.
“Come on, we’ll walk you to the car.” Monique had either practiced her cool and even tone, or his departure was as insignificant as going to the mailbox. When she opened the door, “Ho, ho, ho, Merry Christmas,” sounded from the umbrella stand. She left it open for him and strolled hand in hand with Adele to the rental.
Trace shifted to Loretta one more time and threw a reserved smile before following them. The little bell clanged against the door when he closed it.
“I don’t have to rush,” he explained, hurrying down the walkway to catch up. “I’ve got four hours before my flight. Did you ladies want to grab a coffee?” When he reached the car, he leaned down to Adele. “How ‘bout a hot chocolate?”
“Thanks, Trace, but we’ve got a busy day of baking and delivering cookies. Don’t we, Adele?”
Adele rubbed her tummy and nodded.
Not knowing what else to do, Trace punched the key fob and the car beeped. “I don’t want to leave.”
Monique’s chin began to tremble and she blinked, tilting her head up to the clouds overhead. Why didn't she ask him to stay?
With his back against the car door, Trace folded his arms across his chest, waiting. He wasn’t going to leave without a kiss.
Monique finally came back to him and he thought he'd never let go. She circled her hands around his neck and rested her cheek on his shoulder. Fresh rain and warm vanilla wafted up from her hair and he nuzzled against it. Not able to wait any longer, he inched back, searching for her lips.
When he tilted her face to his, Monique brought her fingers to his mouth. “Not in front of Adele. Not like that.”
“Do you mind if I kiss your mommy?” When he saw how big and round Adele’s eyes had become in response to his question, he decided against kissing Monique the way he wanted to. He gave her an unsatisfying closed mouth kiss instead, and pulled away before he couldn’t stop himself from going in any deeper. He was already drowning.
Breaking away, Monique opened the car door. She held it for him, shuttling him inside like she couldn’t wait for him to leave. After he climbed behind the wheel, she shut the door. The sound of the metal lock engaging had a finality to it that made his stomach drop.
Trace rolled down the window and only then saw her tears. His chest tightened, the lump in his throat became a fist and he fought for composure. “Don’t forget, open my present at eight,” he said to Monique before turning to Adele. “I left something under the tree for you. I hope you like it.”
“I will!” She jumped up and down.
Without another option, Trace started the car and put it in drive. He tentatively drove down the street, waving out the window.
Adele yelled, “Don’t forget to wish Dirty Harry Merry Christmas.” He kept checking the mirror until they were gone.
Chapter Nine
After delivering the last batch of Christmas cookies and going to mass, Monique, Nana and Adele sat in front of the tree in their pajamas. Monique had let the fire peter out earlier because Adele was afraid Santa would burn his boots when he came down the chimney later. Exhaustion set in right after Nana finished reading The Night before Christmas.
“I think Santa will like this one.” Adele selected a green sugar cookie in the shape of a bell from the platter on the coffee table. Holding it, she skipped to the fireplace hearth and placed it on a plate next to a handful of carrots.
Eyeing the box Trace left for her, Monique put her elbows on her knees and nudged Nana. “Okay, Adele, pick out one present and then it’s bedtime. You need to be fast asleep before Santa comes.” She shook her head, smiling and aching at the same time. Adele had grown so much this year, she didn’t want to ever lose these precious moments with her. A part of Monique wanted Adele to stay four years old forever.
Crouched beside the tree in her red onesie elf PJ’s with pointy feet, she selected a large rectangle box with Christmas tree wrapping. “This one?”
Monique nodded. “Let’s see the card.” She put her hand out. “Bring it over and I’ll help you read it.”
Adele skedaddled to Monique and climbed onto the couch. Nuzzling into her side, she excitedly opened the envelope. Thumping her legs against sofa frame, she pulled the card from the slot, slowly revealing a picture of an orange cat dressed as Santa. Adele grinned and peeped inside.
While pointing to each individual word, Monique read them with h
er. “Adele, Orange you glad, it’s Christmas? Merry Christmas, Trace. PS: Lola wanted you to have this. I hope you like it. She needs a name.” Monique tried not to regret her reserved farewell to Trace. She didn’t have a choice. Any other method would’ve torn her apart. Maybe they’d see him again when he came back to handle the sale of Napa Pines and Wines.
Adele left the card on the sofa and shimmied back to the tree.
Monique fondled the card and reread it, brushing her fingers over Trace’s handwriting. The crinkly sound of paper ripping made her turn. Adele broke into a fit of laughter, holding up a box with a picture of a pink guitar covered with daises. “My own guitar.” She jumped up and down. “My own guitar.”
Monique grabbed a Christmas tree cookie and bit down. Sugary morsels melted in her mouth. She wiped a few crumbs off the front of her Santa hat bathrobe. She should’ve given Trace something for Christmas. Then she remembered the way he unwrapped her. He called me his gift.
“Let me help you with that, honey,” Nana said, taking the box away from Adele and opening it for her with a scissors.
Adele held her breath, clapping while she waited. Her feet came off the floor and she shrieked when Nana handed her the gloriously pink instrument.
Adele immediately tucked it under her arm, strummed the strings and started dancing. “What should I name her?”
“You can dream about it when you sleep tonight. And let’s not forget to thank Trace. Come, my little elf, let’s bring it upstairs.”
After tucking Adele in bed with Daisy the guitar beside her under the covers, Monique said goodnight to Nana in the hallway. She moseyed into the living room and finished preparing for Santa’s big arrival. She wished she could’ve done more for Adele, and held out hope Jarod might drop by with something. A card would be nice. She tried not to think about Jarod’s shoddy behavior and counted her blessings.
Adele had more love than a lot of children and plenty of gifts. Several festively dressed packages from Nana and Monique’s parents were under the tree. Of course, Trace had already made quite an impression. Monique made a path from the fireplace to the tree, using the few brightly wrapped goodies she’d bought for Adele over the months. Then she scattered cooled coals around the hearth, making it look like Santa’s boots had traipsed over them delivering presents. After filling Adele’s stocking with a chocolate Santa and candy, she plunked onto the sofa.
Monique eyed the present Trace left for her and gave in to temptation. She crept to it, picked it up and analyzed the shape. Bringing it up to her nose, she sniffed, but smelled only the ink from the Christmas tree covered wrapping paper. Holding it in both hands, she shook it. There was something, or things rattling and brushing against the inside of the box, but she didn’t have a clue what it was. Monique felt for the seam in the cardboard under the wrapping. Cramming her nose into the crevice, she took another whiff. Nada. Scolding herself for acting like a crushing teenager, she put the box down and shoved it back under the tree. She’d keep her promise to Trace and wait to unveil the mysterious gift until tomorrow morning at eight.
Christmas Day
The mattress bounced from the weight of a small person who smelled of strawberries. The sleepyhead crawled on top of her and pried her eyelids open with two little fingers.
“Mommy.” Adele’s breath caressed her nose. “Mommy, wake up.” Tiny hands massaged her back and pushed. The mattress wiggled again. “I wonder if he came.”
Monique rolled over. The red Christmas elf pajamas made Adele’s cheeks look extra rosy. Her curls dangled every which way.
Adele brought her hands to her face and laughed. “Hurry, Mommy!”
Thrilled that her daughter remembered the rule to not go downstairs without her, Monique threw off the covers. “Merry Christmas, sweetheart.” She tore after Adele, caught her by the waist, picked her up and covered her with kisses. “You’ve been so good this year, let’s see if he came.”
Holding her elf tight, Monique reached the bottom of the stairs and let Adele scramble to the tree. Early morning light filtered into the room.
“Merry Christmas.” Nana’s eyes twinkled. “I’ve been up since seven.”
Adele gave her a smooch on the way to the tree. “He came! He came! And look, he ate the cookie. And the reindeers chewed on the carrots!”
Monique eyed the platter of gingerbread cake and coffee, then deposited a kiss on Nana’s cheek. “Merry Christmas.” She sat on the couch and watched Adele open her presents: two Fabulista dolls with two sets of fashion packs from her grandparents in Arizona, a Harold Bear plush doll from Santa, a set of books from her and purple pansy covered plastic dinner plates, cups and saucers from Nana. Thankfully, Adele didn’t seem to notice there wasn’t anything under the tree from her father. While Adele decided which toy to play with first, Monique grabbed the carafe of coffee from the table and shuffled into the kitchen to refill the pot.
“Ho, ho, ho, Merry Christmas,” rang from the umbrella stand. The bell clanged on the door. Holding the pot of coffee, Monique rushed down the hall and gasped. Bright-eyed and energized, like he’d been awake since dawn, Trace stood in the doorway wearing a navy blue sweater, jeans and a grin.
“W-What?”
Before she heard an answer he rushed over and kissed her. Instead of dropping the coffee pot she set it on an entry table and locked him in her arms.
“I don’t understand what’s happening.” She squeezed him.
He beamed down at her. “I made it to the Napa Palace Hotel.”
“Thank you for my guitar, Trace.” The bells on her toes rang and her elf hoodie bounced as Adele jumped for him.
He scooped her up, planting a kiss on her cheek. “Merry Christmas.” Flabbergasted, Monique stood gawking. “The hotel had room, it was practically empty. Never made it to the airport.”
Monique circled her arms around his waist, and ushered him to the living room. “I don’t understand.”
Nana gathered a few play cups and saucers off the floor. “Merry Christmas, Trace. Happy to have you back.” She winked. “Come on, Adele. Let’s put your new dishes in the kitchen, we’ll find a special place for them.”
“Please sit down.” Monique wasn’t about to give him space. She stayed glued to his side and snuggled next to him the second their bottoms hit the couch. She had to stop herself from climbing on Trace’s lap, straddling him and covering him with kisses. She waited until Adele and Nana left the room and asked, “What about Dirty Harry?”
“He’s fine.” He tucked an arm around her shoulder and squeezed. “The neighbors will watch him for a few more days, weeks, or until I go back and get him.”
Smiling so hard her cheeks ached, Monique tried to process the situation. She gaped at the tree, nodding with her mouth open. “So you’re staying?”
“I don’t have another tour planned, Monique. I have to put another album out first. There’s nothing keeping me in New York, nothing that matters anyway.” He moved his hand to the nape of her neck and tangled his fingers in her hair. “I thought I’d sit tight for a while. I have more important issues to focus on.” He shifted to face her.
The flirty sparks of fire in his eyes held an answer. Hummingbirds launched in her stomach, waiting to hear what he said next.
“I’ve been thinking about us, about everything. I even did preliminary research on the effect of music on trees.” He laughed. “Lola and I had some alone time at the hotel.” He kissed her forehead. “Did you know some botanists believe trees grow faster when they listen to music?”
Delicious surges of excitement raced through her. “So, you’re...?”
“And I thought about the last time we said good-bye.” Trace shook his head, hesitating. “It was because I left on tour and you wanted to stay here. Instead of asking you to leave, Monique, maybe I shouldn’t have gone. If I hadn’t, I have no doubt we’d still be together. I’m not making the same mistake twice.” He grasped her other hand. “So, yes, I’m staying. If that’s what you’re as
king.” He glanced at the box under the tree. “Now, open your gift.”
Monique scooped up the big box and brought it back to the couch. She checked with him and he squinted his eyes at his watch chuckling.
“It’s eight. I like your time zone much better.”
She considered unwrapping the present neatly, then tore the gift wrap off and opened the box. Monique’s heart did a pirouette and twirled. Hundreds of mistletoe sprigs tied with red ribbon filled the box to the rim. She couldn’t stop smiling. “It’s real?”
“I asked our friendly agriculture major, Kyle, to help me find it, so I can guarantee it’s genuine mistletoe.” He gave her a sexy lopsided grin. “Now, you’ll never need an excuse to kiss me.”
Her eyes filled with tears. Monique couldn’t blink fast enough to hold them back. “Now, look what you did.” Trace snatched a white envelope from the pile of discarded wrapping paper. “You didn’t even read the card. Good thing.” He shoved it in his pocket and pulled out another. “That one only said Merry Christmas, which is fine.” He pulled her closer and covered Monique’s cheeks with kisses.
She closed her eyes for an instant, wanting to take in every second of the magic. “Merry Christmas, my love,” he whispered.
“Merry Christmas, Love?” Monique leaned and kissed him on the lips.
“This is your real card.” Trace brought the envelope to his lips and kissed it. The corners of his lips curved up, making his eyes crinkle at the edges. “Remember when we walked to where the bungalow used to be and you said I need to think about the future when we were at the Christmas tree farm?”