by Sydney Logan
“Happy Thanksgiving,” she replied softly. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m good, thanks. I was just checking on dinner while Lucas showed his parents around the house. How are you? Are you with your folks?”
She sighed tiredly. “We decided to just stay home for Thanksgiving. Tommy was out late at the hospital and the police station. We just weren’t in the mood to be sociable today.”
“How are Matt and Patrick?”
“Patrick is resting comfortably for now. They’ll have to do surgery on his jaw, so he has a long road ahead of him.”
His jaw?
“Matt’s home,” she continued. “Tommy paid his bail, so at least he gets to spend Thanksgiving with his family.”
I was stunned. “That was really nice of Tommy—of both of you, actually.”
She grew quiet then. By now, I was sure Tommy had told her about our argument in the principal’s office.
“Tommy didn’t want any of this to happen,” she said softly.
“I know he didn’t.”
More silence, and it finally became so awkward that I faked a baking emergency and wished her a happy Thanksgiving before hanging up.
“Everything was delicious,” Jonathan bragged, placing his fork on his now-empty plate.
“And the stuffing!” Olivia gushed. “I never would have thought to add apples and cranberries.”
Taking my hand, Lucas and I shared a smile.
Thanks, Grandma.
Despite my initial nerves, it had truly turned out to be wonderful day. Lucas’s parents were kind and soft-spoken (although his mother’s voice did tend to raise an octave or two when something excited her, which was often). They obviously adored each other and were quietly affectionate.
It made me smile.
They reminded me so much of my parents.
Lucas leaned close, sliding his hand along the nape of my neck before softly kissing my cheek.
They reminded me so much of us.
Everyone offered to help with the dishes, but I insisted Lucas take his dad into the living room to watch whatever football game they could find.
“I’d like to help,” Olivia said as she carried some plates over to the island. “Besides, they need some quality time together. Jonathan would never admit it, but he’s missed his son.”
I smiled. “I’m sure he has.”
She handed me a bowl. “I’ve never understood the male fascination with football. It’s a very confusing sport. So many positions and rules . . .”
I laughed while opening the dishwasher. “I always preferred basketball. I played in high school.”
“Oh, did you?”
She seemed genuinely interested, so I told her a little about my very short career as a point guard, which had come to an abrupt end when I was sixteen.
“It sounds as if you loved it. Why did you stop playing?”
“My parents died. I stopped doing . . . pretty much everything.”
Her eyes were full of sympathy for me. “I can’t imagine how hard that must have been for you.”
I nodded and focused on filling the dishwasher, desperately trying to ignore the melancholy that filled my heart. Sensing my need to change the subject, Olivia started talking about Lucas’s teenage years, and her tone was warm and affectionate.
“He was so smart. Too smart for his age, really. Growing up in a city like Manhattan tends to make a child grow up a little quicker than they should. Despite your best efforts, you just can’t shield your children from everything.”
“I think that’s true no matter where you live, though. It’s impossible to protect them from everything.”
We both grew quiet, and the roar of the dishwasher filled the silence. It wasn’t uncomfortable or awkward, but the compassion radiating from her was making me a little teary-eyed.
“You miss your mom.”
It wasn’t a question.
“Every day.”
Olivia pulled me by the hand and led me over to the kitchen table.
“I still find myself picking up the phone to call mine,” she said quietly, squeezing my hand. “She passed away five years ago.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry for you, too.” Her eyes were shining with tears, too. “I didn’t mean for things to get so heavy.”
“It’s okay,” I replied, and I meant it. It was nice to talk about all of this with someone a little older . . . a little wiser.
With a mom.
She held my hand tightly in her own while I spilled my guts to this woman I’d met only hours earlier. Olivia listened patiently and intently, but it was when I told her about Memphis, that she finally dissolved into tears.
“You’ve endured so much,” Olivia whispered through her sobs, “and yet you’re still this wonderfully sweet young woman.”
Embarrassed, I hastily jumped up from my chair to hunt for a box of tissues just as Lucas stuck his head inside the kitchen. Worriedly, he glanced between me and his mother.
“Is everything okay in here?”
“Oh, we’re fine,” his mother chuckled when I placed the box on the table. “Sarah and I were just getting to know each other.”
Olivia dabbed at her eyes.
“You’re okay?” he whispered, pulling me close.
Burying my face against his chest, I snuggled against him. “I’m fine.”
Sighing heavily, he kissed the top of my hair before gazing down at me.
“I hate to see you cry,” he murmured, brushing my wet cheeks with the back of his hand. “It kills me, every single time.”
His sweet words made his mother weep even harder.
“This is a good cry, though. Just emotional girl talk, that’s all.”
Nodding, he kissed me softly before turning toward his mother. She offered him a watery smile when he leaned down to kiss her cheek. After taking one last glimpse at each of us, Lucas headed back toward the living room.
“He’s a worrywart,” I said, offering another tissue before sitting down with her once again.
Olivia looked proud. “He didn’t used to be. You are so precious to him.”
She was going to make me cry again. Bowing my head, I toyed with the tissue in my hand.
“We need tea,” she announced, springing from her chair. “Do you have tea?”
I tried not to laugh as she swung open the doors of my pantry.
“I have sweet tea, and it’s in the fridge.”
Olivia made a face. “Sweet tea?”
Giggling, I rose from my chair and walked over to the cabinets. Without thinking twice, I wrapped my arms around her, hugging her tightly.
“He’s precious to me, too.”
It was very important she understood this.
Gazing down at me, her blue eyes welled with tears once again.
“I know, sweet girl. I know.”
Chapter 21
Three weeks. I can do anything for three weeks.
Chanting my mantra in my head, I passed out the copies of the novel we’d be reading between now and Christmas vacation.
“Thank goodness it isn’t Shakespeare,” Carrie muttered, flipping through the pages of the book.
Amen.
With a heavy heart, my eyes settled onto Matt’s empty chair. He’d been expelled, of course. Beating Patrick with a metal pipe had given Principal Mullins all the ammunition he needed to toss Matt out of school. Because he was a senior, the school board was allowing him to finish the year in alternative school, ensuring he’ll still graduate in May.
It was something, at least.
Patrick was still recovering from his injuries and officially listed as a homebound student. His jaw was broken, and another surgery had already been scheduled to repair more of the damage. Lucas still refused to give me the gory details of that day, and a small part of me was thankful.
I’d witnessed enough disturbing images to last me a lifetime.
“Do you think it’ll snow, Miss Bray?” Howie asked f
rom his desk. Every head swiveled toward the windows, desperately seeking visual proof that December had indeed arrived.
“Snow is forecasted for this afternoon.”
I couldn’t deny it. I was a little excited to see my first mountain snow in years. I made a mental note to stop by the grocery store to stock up, just in case.
“Maybe we’ll get a snow day tomorrow!” Carrie gushed excitedly.
This made me curious. “Did you get many snow days last year?”
Growing up, our community would sometimes come to a standstill with only a little snow. Small towns like Sycamore Falls rarely had the budget necessary to employ a large road crew to deal with the icy roads. A simple inch or two of snow usually resulted in a few days off from school.
“We had an entire week off last year,” Howie explained. “A big storm hit in January.”
Visions of being snowed-in for a week with Lucas danced in my head.
The bell sounded, breaking me out of my daydream. The class filed out and I turned toward my computer, quickly checking my school email. I was stunned to find a message from Matt’s mom waiting for me in my inbox, asking if Lucas and I would consider tutoring Matt in the afternoons.
Was that even allowed? I had no idea, and I certainly couldn’t ask Principal Mullins. His frosty glare had greeted me in the office this morning, pretty much reaffirming my belief I’d be looking for a new job next year.
Sighing heavily, I closed my eyes and rolled my head from side-to-side. It was my vain attempt to relieve the tension that always seemed to settle in my shoulders whenever I thought about Matt, the principal, or my future unemployment.
Suddenly, my hair was being pushed to one side, and I smiled when his gentle hands settled along my neck.
“How do you always know when I need your hands on me?”
Lucas laughed softly.
“Maybe I just always need my hands on you,” he whispered, massaging my aching shoulders.
I hummed contently. “Maybe that’s why we’re so perfect for each other.”
“Maybe so.”
The tension of the day slipped away as his touch continued working its magic. Grabbing his hand, I kissed the back of his knuckles before twisting around in my seat. After glancing over my shoulder to make sure we were alone, I playfully tugged his tie and pulled his body toward mine. He took the hint and lowered his head, kissing me softly.
“Thank you.”
“Anytime, sweetheart. Feel better?”
“Much.”
He grabbed a nearby chair and pulled it closer to the computer. “Have you eaten lunch?”
“Not yet,” I replied, glancing at my screen. “I was actually just checking my email.”
“Did you get a message from Debbie Stuart?”
I nodded.
“Me too. What do you think?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted quietly. “I mean, I’d love to help Matt. I’m just not sure if it would even be allowed, and Principal Mullins hates me as it is.”
Lucas shrugged. “I really don’t know what he could say. It’s our personal time, and it wouldn’t be on school grounds.”
I grabbed his hand, squeezing it softly.
“I think you should talk to Principal Mullins. Make sure it’s okay before you say yes.”
“What about you?”
“I don’t expect to be rehired, anyway. What more could he possibly do to me?”
Lucas carefully searched my face. “You’re really worried about your job, aren’t you?”
“I am non-tenured, and I was insubordinate. If he wants rid of me, he has the perfect excuse to do so.”
“But you’re a good teacher, Sarah.”
“Good teachers get fired all the time.”
He considered this before sighing softly.
“What would we do?” Lucas suddenly asked, his voice low and gentle.
“What do you mean?”
“If you don’t get rehired.” His eyes fixated on my left hand. I watched, fascinated, as his pinky gently stroked my bare ring finger. “Where would we go?”
Where would we go?
There was no question about it. I’d have to leave Sycamore Falls. I didn’t have a mortgage, but I’d still need to work, and there were zero jobs in our little town. Besides, I wanted to teach, and if the only high school in town refused to rehire me, I was out of luck.
“You wouldn’t have to go anywhere. You’ll be rehired, Lucas. Your evaluations have been great and the principal loves you.”
He looked up at me with his big blue eyes and shook his head.
“How is it possible you still completely underestimate my feelings for you?”
I blinked rapidly.
“I don’t. I know how much you love me.”
“Do you really?”
“Of course I do,” I replied, squeezing his hand. “I just don’t expect you to quit your job and follow me wherever I go.”
“Would you do it for me?”
“Absolutely,” I answered without hesitation.
He smiled and tugged my hand, pulling me out of my chair and into his lap. I looked nervously toward the door and wrapped my arms around his neck.
“Wherever you are is where I want to be,” Lucas whispered. “I’d follow you anywhere, Sarah.”
“But you love it here.”
“I love you more.”
He made it sound so simple.
I gently cupped his cheek, and without giving one glance toward the door, I brushed my lips against his.
Maybe it was just that simple.
The next morning, I was awakened by warm lips brushing across my cold shoulder, causing me to shiver and reach blindly for my blanket.
“Wake up, baby,” Lucas whispered against my skin. “There’s something you have to see.”
Groaning, I opened my eyes, expecting to have to shield my eyes from the sunlight. Instead, a pale, wintry light streamed through the windows. I shuddered again, and Lucas’s body covered mine.
“Am I dreaming?” I murmured as his lips nuzzled my neck.
“You’re wide awake, Sarah.”
“But you didn’t spend the night.”
“I know. I used my key,” he said softly, gliding his nose along mine. “I really want to show you something.”
I grinned and tilted my pelvis toward his.
He smirked. “Not that.”
I pouted.
“Okay, maybe that, but first things first.” Lucas crawled off the bed and pulled me upright.
“What time is it? Are we late for school?”
Grinning widely, he tugged me by the hand until I was standing on the floor. Following him over to the window, I couldn’t contain my excited gasp when I looked outside.
A blanket of beautiful snow covered the earth, and it was still falling.
“No school today,” he murmured against my ear.
“Oh!”
Mountain snow was just as pretty as I remembered it. Everything shimmered, and I had to blink rapidly so my eyes could adjust to the glistening white.
“The roads are terrible,” Lucas said. “I’d never driven in snow before. It was definitely an experience.”
I peered through the frosty glass. “How much is out there?”
“About four inches. We’re supposed to get another three by tonight.”
“That means no school tomorrow, either.”
“Wow, schools rarely close in New York.” His lips brushed against my ear. “Are you smiling, Miss Bray?”
“I am, Mr. Miller.” Slowly, I turned around in his arms. “You braved the icy roads just to be snowed-in with me?”
“Of course. It’s our first snow day.”
I smiled. “We just had our first Thanksgiving. Pretty soon it’ll be our first Christmas.”
“That’s a lot of firsts.” His eyes then flickered with emotion as his voice became a whisper. “The first of many, I hope.”
Gently, I pulled him toward the bed. Lucas fell back
against the mattress as I crawled over his body, my hair falling around us when I teased his lips with mine. His quiet groan vibrated through me as we slowly undressed each other. Goosebumps erupted on my flesh, but I hardly noticed. All I could feel was the warmth of his body against mine as we made love in the early morning light.
It was only later, after he’d drifted off to sleep in my arms, did the enormity of his words weave their way into my heart.
The first of many.
His words were thrilling because I knew, deep in my soul, they weren’t just words. It was also terrifying, for that very same reason.
Lucas was ready for more.
Was I ready to give it to him?
As if he sensed my anxiety, his arm tightened around my waist. I closed my eyes and forced myself to focus on the man whose head was snuggled against my chest. I concentrated on the warmth of his breath against my skin and the quiet peacefulness of his snores, and I desperately tried to ignore the nagging voice in my head that was trying to convince me I was far too wounded and not at all worthy of this wonderful man.
“I love you, baby.” His soft voice was like a beacon, and it was exactly what I needed to hear.
A quiet reminder.
A tender promise.
Lucas snuggled deeper into my arms. Pulling the blanket around us, I closed my eyes and prayed when the day finally arrived, I would be ready.
“Something smells good.”
After sleeping until noon, we’d finally showered and spent the rest of the afternoon downstairs. He’d spent a few hours on his laptop while I’d finished grading some papers.
“Beef stew.” I smiled as he wrapped his arms around my waist, resting his chin on my shoulder. “Grandma always made it whenever it snowed.”
“And it’s still falling,” he said. I continued stirring as we gazed out the window. “I think the meteorologist missed his prediction.”
“That sometimes happens in the mountains. We might be snowed in the rest of the week.”
Lucas kissed along my neck. “I could think of worse ways to spend the rest of the week. You might get sick of me, though.”
“Never,” I whispered, shivering as his nose inched along my skin.
Luckily, his cell rang, saving the stew from a definite scorching. I quickly removed it from the heat while he took the call.