Christmas Miracles

by Ashley Ladd

  “What are we doing here? Did I screw this up, too?”

  Just how many people had she adversely affected? How many sins was she to be held accountable for?

  She racked her brain, trying to think how she’d let down her cousin. Had she been a rotten child? Had she said something mean and unforgivable? Try as she might, she couldn’t come up with anything she’d done wrong.

  A teenage Terri walked into the spotlight, dressed in jeans and a baggy t-shirt sporting a silly grinning reindeer. Terri’s hair, the same colour as Tiffany’s, coppery with a few golden highlights, swung from a high ponytail. Red, green, and gold Christmas ribbons tied it up. Christmas bells jingled from her ears.

  A couple years younger than Tiffany, Terri had tagged after her whenever the family got together. Ditto for the summers she’d stayed with Tiffany’s family.

  Tiffany watched as Terri bounded up to her younger self with a gaily wrapped present and a huge smile. “Here, open it. It’s from me.”

  Her former self smiled politely and accepted the gift. Carefully so as not to tear the pretty silver foil, she unwrapped the present. She spied a copy of a Beatles record she’d already owned and swallowed her disappointment. Then she smiled as best she could, hugged her cousin, and said, “Thank you. I love the Beatles.”

  “Let’s go and listen to it. I have a record player in my room.” Terri grabbed her hand and tugged it.

  But her younger self pulled back. “I’m afraid I can’t. I have a date tonight, and I have to get going.” She slung her pouch over her shoulder and stood, eyeing the exit, obviously eager to escape.

  Terri’s shoulders slumped, and most of the sunniness faded from her smile. “On Christmas? This is family time.”

  The younger version of herself looked at Terri as if she was a vapid child. “We’ll get together soon and listen to the record. I promise. But I can’t break this date.” The boy had been Russ Curtis, who she’d drooled over the past year, but who hadn’t looked at her until the past month. As she recalled, he’d stood her up that night, and she’d never seen him again.

  “Please?” Terri held her hand. “We hardly spend time together anymore.”

  Annoyance flashed across her eyes. “I really can’t. I have to go, or he’ll think I stood him up.”

  Tiffany snorted and, again, cursed her younger self. “Fool.”

  Her younger self squeezed Terri’s hand then pulled away. She’d skipped out the door, forgetting to take Terri’s gift.

  With tears in her eyes, Terri picked up the record and turned it over in her hands. Terri’s mother, Tiffany’s Aunt Hannah, gave the girl’s shoulders a squeeze. “I’m sorry, pumpkin. She’s just a little boy-crazy. She’ll get over it.”

  “All I want is to be close to her. You’d think since we’re both only children, and we have no other cousins, we’d be as close as sisters.”

  “You can’t force people, honey,” Aunt Hannah murmured, laying her head against Terri’s. “You can only make yourself available and be a friend.”

  Terri hugged her mother, buried her face against her breast and cried.

  Tiffany felt like dirt. She wanted to chase down her younger self and tell her off then drag her back to spend time with Terri.

  Furious and spent, Tiffany marched up to the ghost and planted her fists on her hips. She stood at parade rest and glared at the apparition. “Okay, I get it. I was a first-class idiot. I’ll spend a lot more time with my cousin from now on.” If Terri would forgive her.

  The ghost’s lips lifted a notch, but it quirked its brows as if asking, “And what else will you do?”

  Frowning, she wasn’t sure what else she could do after so many years. Making amends with a still in-touch cousin was entirely different than hunting down an ex-boyfriend or ex-friend and doing what? She didn’t know.

  Chapter Three

  Tiffany awoke on the couch in a crumpled clothes, her eyes caked with mascara. A major headache blinded her, and it took her several moments to unglue her eyes and focus on the clock.

  Four p.m.?

  Eek!

  She’d slept all day.

  But then she’d been up all night. Or had she?

  Remembering the wild dream, she moaned. What else could it be?

  Why had she ever watched Scrooged? Of all nights, why on Christmas Eve?

  The phone rang, and she groped around for it as it blurted close by. She finally found it buried between the couch cushions.

  She just missed the call and hurriedly looked to see who’d rung. When she read Terri’s name on the caller ID, she hissed. Miffed at herself, she said, “Shit!” Again, she’d been too late.

  Not anymore, she vowed. She didn’t need the Ghost of Christmas Present and especially not the creepy one for Christmas Future to visit. She was a quick learner—at least when a brick wall was shoved on her head.

  She wasn’t going to be so self-absorbed anymore. She would focus more on other people instead of herself. Making an instant decision, she dialled her boss. When the answering machine picked up, Tiffany wasn’t surprised. She left a message on the voicemail box, “I’m taking three weeks of my vacation now. I need some time off.”

  If they fired her, she didn’t care. She had a little money put aside, and she was a good salesman. She could get another job. She couldn’t get another cousin.

  Next, she punched Terri’s phone number onto her phone. She chafed while she awaited an answer. Just as she expected the voice machine to answer, Terri said, “Hello. Tiff?”

  “Merry Christmas,” Tiffany said, tearing up. Would she ever stop feeling guilty? Would Terri truly give her a second chance? Would she muck it up again?

  “Merry Christmas. Are you okay?” Concern tinged her cousin’s voice.

  “I’m fine.” Tiffany paused and chewed her lip, remembering that Christmas so many years ago. She couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to that Beatles record she’d forgotten. She sniffed back a tear. “That’s not entirely true. I feel horrible.”

  “What’s wrong? Talk to me!” Terri’s warmth and concern winged through the phone.

  Tiffany felt a bit better already. Perhaps she’d not blown this relationship totally to smithereens. “I should be celebrating Christmas with you, my family. We should be closer. It’s my fault we’re not.”

  “That’s okay…”

  “No it’s not!” Tiffany paced the room, envisioning her cousin surrounded by her husband, children, and her children’s friends. They were a happy bunch, and she envied them. She longed to be in their loving midst. “I haven’t been a very good cousin, but I want to change that.”

  “Okay.”

  The din in the background told Tiffany Terri’s family was indeed having a merry Christmas. She could almost smell the turkey roasting in the oven and the cheese melting on the macaroni, just the way their grandma used to make it. Her mouth watered, and she had a sudden craving to taste the old family recipes.

  Tiffany gathered her courage but still had to take a deep breath. “Is it okay if I come for a visit? For about a week? Maybe a little more? Like now?”

  She held her breath, knowing Terri would be within her rights to say no.

  Terri squealed. “I’d love it. You mean right away?”

  Enthused, her heart beating a million miles a minute, Tiffany squeezed the phone so tightly she was sure she would crush it. “Yep. I’ll leave now and get there by tomorrow morning. It’ll almost still be Christmas.”

  “Don’t worry. We’ll keep Christmas going for you.”

  Love welled up in Tiffany’s heart for her closest family member. “We’ll play that Beatles record.”

  There was a pause. “I’ve still got it.”

  Tiffany kicked herself but decided that even she needed to be forgiven, and if Terri could forgive her, she could forgive herself. “Cool. You know I didn’t mean to leave it. It really did mean a lot to me.”

  “I thought you didn’t want it. That you never gave it another thought.”<
br />
  “I gave it a lot of thought,” Tiffany admitted as she sank into her lounger. “I was just embarrassed to mention it. I was afraid you were mad at me for forgetting it that night.”

  “We’re family. Don’t be embarrassed ever again. Deal?”

  Tiffany sighed in relief and relaxed further back into the oversized cushions. “Deal.”

  * * * *

  The week with Terri went fabulously well, better than Tiffany could have ever dreamed. They hung out, they chatted until the wee hours of the night, and they giggled like school girls. She bonded with Terri’s children who’d taken to calling her Aunt Tiffany.

  She hated to leave at week’s end, but she wasn’t done coming to terms with the past, and she only had two weeks left until she had to get back to the real world.

  She’d used the week she’d spent at Terri’s to have a private detective seek out Dax and Judy. To her delight, both were still alive, and Dax hadn’t remarried.

  Yearning desperately to see Dax again and find out if he still had any shred of feelings left for her, she sought him out next. Still, fright seized her, and she didn’t know how to begin.

  Feeling like an idiot, she talked to herself in the mirror. She didn’t like the answers she received and threw up her hands in dismay.

  Still mumbling to herself, she said, “How would I want him to approach me if it was the other way around? By telephone or just to show up at my front door without warning?”

  Neither particularly appealed. In the end, she decided to bump into him accidentally on purpose. So, she checked out his office building and armed with the private detective’s knowledge of what hours he usually worked, where he liked to eat lunch, and where he liked to hang out, she waited at his office building in the city and followed him from a distance, praying he wouldn’t notice her and think she was stalking him.

  Was she? Stalking him? She promised she’d bump into him now or give him a call. She hated the thought of being a stalker.

  Finally, Dax, dapper and debonair in a business suit and tie, his hair heavier with grey than when she’d seen him in the hospital, exited his building. He stole her breath, and she did a double-take. Her heart hammered her ribs so hard she feared they’d break. Her knees felt weak, and she didn’t know if she could go through with this.

  If she did, would the man thank her? Trembling all over, she raked her fingers through her hair, and wondered if she was crazy to even consider this. Twelve years was a lifetime ago. He’d probably forgotten her. Or he just plain wouldn’t care any more.

  She almost talked herself out of going after him, when he’d almost disappeared from sight. Then she remembered something her mother had told her, “You’ll regret more what you didn’t do than what you did.”

  Her mom’s voice rang so loud and clear in her mind, she blinked and looked around for her. As she was beginning to believe in ghosts, she wondered if her mother was actually talking to her, advising her what to do.

  Deciding her mother was right, whether or not she’d really contacted her just now, Tiffany decided the worst that could happen would be that Dax would reject her, and she’d be no worse off, still living without him. But if he reacted positively…

  She prayed for assistance and blessings as she dug her freezing hands deep in her coat pockets and trudged through the snow and slush after the man. Afraid she’d lose sight of him and lose her nerve to try again, she quickened her pace. But the snow sucked at her feet, preventing her from moving very quickly. When Dax rounded a corner out of view, she silently swore.

  She lifted her face to heaven. “Please help me.”

  Tingles enveloped her, and she wondered if she was imagining them or if they were real. Either way, she took it as a sign to continue and bent her head against the biting wind. Now she knew why she’d settled in South Florida. Her blood was too thin to take this abuse. She hoped Dax would appreciate what she was going through for him.

  Dax wasn’t there when she turned the corner. Downtown Cincinnati looked completely different than what she remembered, and she lost her bearings. “Oh, no,” she whispered, the cold seeping into her heart.

  She stopped and turned in a slow circle, taking in each and every building, looking for any restaurants on the private eye’s list. Finally she spied the small, almost hidden sign to the deli she recalled being in the dossier. As it was the only restaurant in view, she inhaled deeply, said another prayer and sucked in her gut. Then she made her way inside and covertly looked around.

  He was there, but darned if he wasn’t already sitting down, sipping on a hot coffee and reading a newspaper. It wouldn’t be too easy to bump into a man already seated in a booth.

  She gnawed her lip and searched her brain. When the waitress acted as if she’d repeated her greeting at least twice, she felt like an idiot. Still trying to come up with a Plan B, she asked the waitress, “Can I sit in that booth over there?” She pointed to the one in front of Dax.

  The older woman shrugged, plucked a menu from its holder and plodded to the booth. “Would you like a drink?”

  Tiffany nodded, tempted to ask for the strongest whiskey in town. Instead, she demurely asked for a diet cola.

  For several moments, she stared at the man sitting not three feet from her, so close she was getting giddy on his cologne. God, but he smelled heavenly, better than she remembered. She willed him to look up, to recognise her, to leap over the benches and claim her for his.

  But when he glanced up, she felt gauche and quickly looked away. She berated herself and lifted her eyes again. When their gazes met again, she forced a smile to her quivering lips. She wondered if he could feel the ground quaking beneath them ready to swallow her up. She was curious if he could smell the natural perfume of her wet pussy.

  It’s now or never, she thought. Just do it!

  How many more years could she kiss him in her dreams without going insane? How much longer could she take this?

  Still scared, her hands shaking so hard her coffee splashed into the saucer, she cleared her throat. “Excuse me,” she croaked. “Don’t I know you?”

  She congratulated herself on saying anything but wasn’t about to award herself the speaker of the year award.

  Dax looked around then pointed to himself. “Do you mean me?”

  Oh God! He didn’t recognise her. He had no clue. His eyes remained blank, without recognition. Had she changed that much?

  She put her hands in her lap and wrung them but made herself nod. “Aren’t you Dax DiCesare?”

  He slowly nodded, and his eyes darkened. “Guilty.”

  She waited, hoping recognition would set in. When she saw no sign, hope died in her heart. Still, she’d come this far. She had to know. This was it, their last chance. She scooted out of her booth and walked over to his and stood over him. She held out her hand in greeting and forced a friendly smile to her lips. “It’s been a long time. Imagine running into you here. I’m Tiffany Davis.”

  After another long pause, she asked on a breathless whisper, “Do you remember me?”

  His nostrils flared, and he blinked. His gaze raked her from head to toe and back, and he narrowed his eyes. “Who? Did you say Stephanie? Cecilie?”

  Her heart died a little bit. She was tempted to throw down enough money to cover her dinner and run away to lick her wounds and bury her head in the sand. She wished the floor would open up and swallow her whole.

  Dax caught his breath and couldn’t believe his eyes. He didn’t want to blink or give any indication he knew her. After all, how long had it been since they’d parted? Ten years? Twelve?

  God, but his heart twisted and tore apart as if it had been yesterday. Although he knew he’d been the one to leave, he was still raw that she hadn’t come after him—until now.

  Hell, he wasn’t merely bruised and raw, he was bleeding. Just the sight of her opened his wounds as if they hadn’t scarred over.

  He knew her name as well as his own, but he was damned if it would pass his lips. W
ho was she to waltz into his favourite deli and ruin his lunch? And what were the chances of that?

  Shock pooled in her eyes but was quickly veiled by remorse then bravado. Although she flinched, she didn’t back off. “Tif – fanny,” she clearly enunciated. “We meant a lot to each other once. At least, you meant a lot to me. Sorry I disturbed you. I’ll leave you to finish your lunch in peace. You don’t need crazy people bothering you.”

  He couldn’t agree more. Most of all, he didn’t need to join their ranks which he would if he fell into her arms. “I’m sorry. I don’t remember you.”

  When her eyes darkened, and she slumped, his heart broke, but he couldn’t afford to risk his heart again. He feared he wasn’t immune. His antibodies were weak. He needed an immunisation.

  Or he would, except he didn’t plan to see her again.

  His appetite gone, he threw a ten and a couple ones on the table and walked out with just a grunt to the waitress.

  He fumed all the way back to the office and was amazed the ice and snow didn’t sizzle beneath his feet. He didn’t want to think about her. He didn’t want to feel anything. He wished he was a robot so he could turn himself off, so he wouldn’t have any feelings in the first place.

  The pain flashing across Tiffany’s eyes wouldn’t stop taunting him, however, and he swore under his breath. Her pain was no longer his problem.

  Unfortunately, he wished it was.

  * * * *

  “Told you so,” Tiffany said to her image in the store front window. “You were so stupid to listen to that ghost. I mean, who believes in ghosts anyway?”

  A passerby ducked her head and scurried by, clutching her coat tighter against the freezing wind.

  Tiffany slipped on the ice and barely caught herself against the nearest building. Shivering, she looked about the bleak city that no longer looked like home. “I am crazy. I could be lounging on the beach.” Which was exactly where she planned to head as soon as she got back.

  She wondered if this was a sign that she should hop on a jet plane and vamoose outta here. Do not pass go, do not look up Judy, and do not set yourself up for another heartbreak.