Our First Christmas

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Our First Christmas Page 16

by Lisa Jackson


  “I can see why you like it here, Bright,” he said. “It’s beautiful. Almost frozen in time.”

  “Why, Sawyer Drake. You sounded somewhat poetic there.”

  “And you sound surprised.”

  “You’re saying you’re a poet?”

  “And you didn’t even know it.”

  “Har har.”

  “Why don’t you stand in front of the lion’s head over there.”

  “Me? I’m not supposed to be in the pictures.”

  “Just do it.”

  “Now who’s grouchy.” Dani went and stood in front of a pair of lions’ heads flanking an entrance.

  “Would it be too much to ask you to look into the camera, and think of something that makes you happy?” Dani stared at the camera. She thought about Nate. “I said happy.” She thought about her parents, and sister, all the way in California. Sawyer put the camera down. “Are you crying?”

  “No.” Dani wiped away the tears.

  “You leave me no choice,” Sawyer said. He crossed his eyes and stuck out his tongue. Dani laughed. He snapped the picture. “From now on—two Dark and Stormy drinks are your limit, Bright.”

  “Do you have enough for now?”

  “Why? Do you want to go back to the sailboat and resist the urge to jump into bed with me?”

  “I was thinking I’d like to go to the Italian market and get a latte.”

  “That’ll do,” Sawyer said. To Dani’s surprise he took her arm and began to walk with her back toward downtown.

  “Ice cream, whiskey, and now caffeine,” Dani commented.

  “The three wise men,” Sawyer said. Despite herself, Dani laughed again. Against her better judgment, she had to admit. Sawyer Drake had charm in spades.

  The little coffeehouse was right next door to an Italian market. The market had wine, and pastas, and olive oils, and Italian dishes and delicacies. The coffeehouse was homey, with a sofa in the back and tables and chairs by the window. Local photography hung on the walls, and pretty, young college girls worked the register. Dani had always loved sitting right by the window and writing. Her favorite table was just being evacuated, and Dani practically jumped on top of it in order to save it. Sawyer snapped a picture.

  “Stop taking my picture,” Dani said.

  “You’re body-surfing a table,” Sawyer said. “Impossible not to snap that action.” Dani tried to gracefully get off the table, and then began pushing all the used cups to the side. Sawyer shook his head and picked them up. “What can I get you, ma’am?”

  “You’re buying?” she asked.

  “Adel’s buying,” he said. “I have a company credit card.”

  “She gave you a company credit card?” Adel never gave Dani a company credit card and she’d been there two years!

  “Are you going to get in a huff, or are you going to give me your order?”

  “Can’t I do both? I’m an excellent multitasker.”

  “One regular latte coming up.”

  “No, no, no. I’ll have a Pecan Pie Latte with whipped cream and caramel,” Dani said.

  “Of course you will,” Sawyer said. “Do you want that in a waffle cone?”

  “Har, har.”

  “Right back with your high-maintenance order,” he said with a wink. Dani sat back, smiling despite herself, and watched as the college girls lit up at the sight of him. Good God. It was like a superpower. So why was she so immune to it? Was it at all possible that the reason she was always so irritated by him was that she wanted to swoon just as much as everyone else, but the very thought so irked her that she pushed him away instead?

  Sawyer was right, next time two drinks would be her limit. Nate never irritated her the way Sawyer did. Oh, Nate irritated her plenty, but not in a way that made her squirm. Nate exasperated her. Especially how stubborn he was about staying in Wilmington the rest of his life. And now look at him. London of all places. She just couldn’t picture it. He’d told her it was partly because of her that he was going. Because he regretted losing her to New York. So now he was going to London because he was afraid of losing Anya. Fear wasn’t a good reason to get married and move across the pond. She was doing him a favor by trying to break up this wedding.

  Sawyer was just returning with their drinks—more whipped cream than Dani had ever been given—when a petite woman with white hair styled in a bob walked in. Dani immediately leapt to her feet, sloshing her latte on her top. Sawyer was instantly dabbing a napkin on her chest. His fingers accidentally grazed her breast, sending a tingle all the way down to Dani’s toes. She grabbed the napkin from him and stepped back.

  “Sorry,” he said. He seemed just as stunned.

  “Mrs. Hathaway,” Dani called. The woman stopped. For several minutes she stood in the middle of the coffeehouse, her back to Dani. Finally, she slowly turned around.

  “Danielle,” Ruth Hathaway said. Dani couldn’t read anything in her tone.

  “Merry Christmas,” Dani said. She stepped forward, then looked down at her blouse. Ruth had only hugged her once, anyway, the morning of that horrific Christmas Eve. And that was only because she thought Dani was about to become her grand-daughter-in-law. Ruth Hathaway’s gaze fell on Sawyer.

  “He’s a colleague,” Dani said. “A photographer.” Sawyer smiled at Ruth Hathaway and stuck out his hand.

  “Ma’am,” he said. Ruth Hathaway glanced at his hand, and then pulled hers in protectively against her stomach.

  “It’s the cold season,” she said. “I don’t shake hands during the cold season.”

  “My apologies. I don’t blame you at all.” Sawyer grinned. Ruth pursed her lips. Was she always such a snob? Danielle wondered. Probably. Dani had just never seen her through that lens.

  “Are you here to apologize to Nathaniel?” Ruth asked Danielle.

  “Mrs. Hathaway—”

  “Oh, call me Ruth.”

  Call her Ruth? That was odd. “Ruth. I’ve been apologizing to Nate for the past two years. I’ve written. I’ve called. He’s never responded to a single attempt.”

  “He’s always been sensitive. And what a fuss he went to that evening. It was an absolutely mortifying experience for him.”

  “I know. I can’t tell you how sorry I am.”

  Ruth put her hand up, then brushed a stray hair off her cheek and placed her hands back against her stomach. “That’s the past, Danielle. I’m quite sure you’ve heard of his plans for the future?”

  “Yes.” Here it came. Ruth was going to forbid Dani from coming anywhere near Nate until he was married.

  “And I assume you’re as displeased as I am?”

  Danielle’s head snapped up. Ruth stared at her intently. “Yes,” Dani said. “Yes, I am.”

  “And if you had the chance, a little Christmas miracle—tell me, Danielle. You wouldn’t dare hurt my Nathaniel again, would you?”

  “No. No, I wouldn’t. Of course not. But he—”

  “And would you drop all this New York nonsense and settle down here with Nate, where you both belong?”

  “Yes. Yes, I would.”

  “Very well, then. What are we going to do to run off these British imperialists?”

  “What are we going to do to run off these British imperialists?” Sawyer said. It was in perfect imitation of Ruth Hathaway. They were sitting in the lower cabin of the sailboat. It was large enough for two small sofas facing each other and a small kitchen. Danielle had to laugh when Sawyer did his imitation, he even had the facial expression—pursed lips, drawn cheekbones, raised eyebrow—down to a tee.

  “You have to cut her some slack,” Dani said after she’d finished laughing. “Her family has deep roots here. To her the American Revolution was yesterday.”

  “So I assume their family kept slaves, as well?”

  “Ouch.”

  “It’s an honest question.”

  “She doesn’t speak of it, but there are plantations in her family, so of course they did.”

  “Grim.”

/>   “Indeed. Wilmington is part of the South when it comes to that. But the town does its best to own up to their history. The Bellamy Mansion, and the Latimer House, and Burgwin-Wright House, all talk about slavery on their tours, as well as give tours of the slave quarters.”

  “Can’t wait.”

  “I think it’s important to remember.”

  “Of course. It’s also important to recognize every time we are prejudiced against someone, no matter who, we are backsliding into the mentality of our horrific past.”

  “I agree a hundred—wait a minute. Are you talking about Anya?”

  “Do you think it’s fair that Ruth Hathaway is judging the poor girl just because she’s British?”

  Danielle just looked at him. “I’m sure there’s a lot more wrong with her than that.”

  “Oh, you are, are you? Based on what? The fact that she’s helped his career? Encouraged him to move outside his comfort zone?”

  “Encouraged him? He’s moving to London out of fear.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “He told me! He told me it was because of me that he was moving. He said he regretted not moving to New York City to be with me and he doesn’t want to make the same mistake with her.”

  “I see.”

  “What do you see?”

  “What’s next on our list of things to shoot?”

  Danielle didn’t know why Sawyer suddenly put the brakes on their conversation about Nate, but she didn’t understand men in general and she wasn’t going to belabor it. “We can go to Airlee Gardens tonight.”

  “Great. I’m going to take a nap. Wake me when it’s dark.” The sailboat had two bedrooms: one to the right of the living room, and the other on the opposite side past the kitchen and the bathroom.

  Danielle stood as Sawyer made a move to the smaller bedroom. “Wait. What did I say?”

  “Nothing. I need a nap. And if you don’t mind, I didn’t exactly come here to discuss Nate Hathaway ad nauseam.”

  “Our assignment is to see if I can get him back.”

  “Our assignment is ‘A Southern Christmas’.”

  “You think I should be nicer to Anya, is that it?”

  Sawyer didn’t answer. He disappeared into the bedroom and slid the door shut. Danielle was too wound up to sleep. She went up to the deck with her cell phone. The water was calm, and in the distance lights twinkled on the Cape Fear Memorial Bridge. The USS North Carolina was stark against the afternoon sky. Danielle took a deep breath and called Nate. His voice mail kicked on. Was he screening?

  “Nate. Hi, it’s Danielle. I was wondering if you and Anya would like to meet me at Airlee Gardens this evening. We have to do a shoot for the magazine and so I can get us in free. I thought it might be nice to get to know Anya. I think featuring not only your artwork in the magazine but your wedding, as well, would be great for our feature. I ran into your grandmother today and she was thrilled with the idea—” His phone cut her off. There, she’d done it. Invited him. And lied to him about his grandmother.

  Sawyer was right about one thing. Dani hated Anya just because she loved and was marrying Nate. She had no idea whether or not Anya was a good person. Maybe if she had met her without knowing who she was, she would have assumed she was a good person until proven otherwise. But why did Sawyer have to be so judgmental himself? Wasn’t all fair in love and war? Wasn’t Dani at war? So in a way, she was doing a feature on The War on Christmas anyway. Except hers was personal. Didn’t this woman realize that Nate had suggested they marry on Christmas Eve because he was terrified of another woman rejecting him on the same date? Didn’t that tell her something about Nate’s state of mind? And if Dani and Nate were meant to be together, wasn’t she actually doing Anya a big favor even if she didn’t see it that way? And why, if she was so in love with Nate, was Dani picturing Sawyer Drake all by himself in that little bed, behind a door that would be so easy to slide open?

  Chapter 8

  Danielle had grown up a bit of a local history buff. She kept an extensive diary with research of local places. Airlee Gardens had been no exception. On the drive there, she filled Sawyer in on the origins of the public gardens. It was, as were most of her favorite historical stories, a love story at heart.

  Because Wilmington wouldn’t have Airlee Gardens if it weren’t for Sarah Green and Pembroke Jones falling in love. The year was 1884. Pembroke was the son of a captain, and Sarah grew up on a vineyard north of Fayetteville. Prior to the wedding, Sarah purchased the fifty-two-acre Seaside Park Improvement Company for $5,000. Later, she would acquire the adjoining land, bringing it up to 155 acres. Pembroke named it Airlee in honor of family in Scotland, and Sarah called it Airlee-on-the-Sound. On the site they built a mansion boasting hardwood floors, arched ceilings, and a myriad of windows. They also enjoyed a covered tennis court, a ballroom, a banquet hall, and thirty-eight guest apartments. The gardens surrounded the house. Sarah had visions for the gardens that couldn’t be satisfied by just anyone. She hired a German kaiser’s gardener, Rudolph Topel, to bring life to the garden of her dreams.

  “Rudolph,” Sawyer interrupted. “That’s very Christmas-y.”

  “Funny,” Danielle said. “But truth be known, Sarah and Pembroke loved to entertain. They were a bit like the Gatsbys, holding one extravaganza after another, flaunting their Southern hospitality. Once their guests arrived on a special train of trolley cars. Chefs came from the North, entire orchestras were hired to entertain, and get this—party favors were gold watches for the men, and diamond jewelry for the women.” Danielle sighed.

  “You so want to go back in time and be at one of those parties, don’t you?” Sawyer said.

  “Oh God. I so do,” Dani said. “You have no idea. They once built a spiral staircase on the grounds leading up to picnic platforms erected in the oak trees. Once up there the guests would find the tables adorned in white linen tablecloths and real silverware.”

  “Fancy,” Sawyer said. They had pulled into the grounds now, waved on by kids wielding glowing orange sticks.

  “It was even rumored that on some of the hunts—they dressed squirrels up in little red jackets. Squirrels!”

  “I would definitely post that on my Facebook page.”

  “And the holidays? They would burn barrels of tar just for the glow, and line the drive with Japanese lanterns. If I close my eyes I can hear laughter and singing, and watch as carriages come and go with the guests. It’s rumored that they were the original ‘Joneses’ behind the saying ‘Keeping up with the Joneses’.”

  “You are full of fun facts this evening, Bright,” Sawyer said. “Are we getting out of the car?”

  “Not until I finish my story. Your photographs will be richer if you know the history of the grounds.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “While partying is one thing, Sarah’s real love was for the gardens. One day, while walking through the woods, she discovered a clump of azaleas. She had the gardeners transplant them near the house. The main garden consisted of magnolias, azaleas, camellias, and wisteria. They also planted 500 live oaks, 1,200 longleaf pines, 5,000 camellias, and a quarter million azaleas.”

  “That is a boatload of azaleas,” Sawyer said.

  “The land is surrounded by Bradley Creek, a lake reclaimed from a salt lagoon, and marshes. Some of the oaks are now 467 years old.” Sawyer whistled. “Some of them reach fifty feet high, and their canopies spread 100 feet.”

  “You’re pretty passionate about this place,” Sawyer said.

  “I’m passionate about the history of a place, or people,” Dani said. “You were right, earlier. I have been hard on Anya. But Nate and I—we have a history. I can’t let Anya shatter that.”

  “By definition, darling, history is in the past. It would be like Sarah coming back to life and demanding her gardens back this instant.”

  “If that woman came back to life right now, I think we’d be smart to give her anything she wanted.”

  Sawyer roared wi
th laughter. That made Danielle laugh, too. It felt good.

  “You’re the Ghost of Christmas Past,” Sawyer said.

  “Technically, yes. But what if I’m also the Ghost of Christmas Future?”

  “What if you stop being a ghost and just live your life?”

  “Because Anya has my life!”

  “That’s where you have a screw loose. Anya has her life. With Nate.”

  “I want a future with Nate. The one I always knew we’d have.”

  Sawyer must have given up on his lecture for he turned and looked out the window instead of throwing any more wisdom her way. “Is the mansion still here?”

  “Unfortunately, no. The Corbett family bought the property next and dismantled it when it became too much for them. They built their own house, but sold sixty-seven acres to New Hanover County. And that’s when Airlee Gardens came to be.” Sawyer clapped. Dani gave a half bow from the car seat. “And at Christmastime a light show transforms it into Enchanted Airlee. You’ll soon see why.” Dani couldn’t help but smile.

  Sawyer smiled back and shook his head. “You’re lit up yourself, darling. And this time it’s not from rum and whiskey.”

  “I just—used to love Christmas so much. It’s been a while since I could enjoy it again.”

  “That’s a shame. Joy suits you.”

  “It’s magical here.”

  “You can say that again.”

  Dani could feel it, that heat between them again as he stared at her. She looked away and started to get out of the car. Sawyer hurried around, opened her car door, and offered her his arm.

 

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