Merry Ex-Mas

by Sheila Roberts

  She spent the next hour updating the store’s website and Facebook page, trying to ignore her mismatched shoes and her mixed-up feelings, then got busy ordering merchandise. There was always plenty to do in a small shop. Sadly, nothing she did was enough to take her mind off Jake. She could still remember the touch of his lips on hers, the feel of his arms around her.... Oh, stop, she scolded herself, you sound like one of your romance novels.

  And what was wrong with that?

  Plenty, when you were romancing the wrong man.

  Sigh.

  * * *

  Jake had finished cleaning up the kitchen. Not so much as a speck of dirt anywhere. That would make Ella happy. He’d done the laundry, too. He could never fold clothes right, but he hoped she’d be pleased that he’d tried. And now the house stuff was finished, or at least all that he could see. He had several hours until Curt Whalen came for his after-school guitar lesson. Jake wished he could pop on over to the shop and take Ella out to lunch. He used to do that when he was working at the music store. They’d go to Big Brats and grab something. Sometimes they’d eaten sandwiches at the shop while she was between customers. Those had been good times, living simply and loving it while they waited for him to catch a break, sell a song.

  Last night it was like it had been when they were first married—no worries, no disagreements, no mother-in-law telling lies about him. Why couldn’t they go back in time?

  Back in time. Was there an idea in there? He went in search of his guitar. Two hours later he’d poured his heart into a kick-ass song, perfect for Lady Antebellum. He went to the spare room downstairs, where he’d set up a small recording studio with secondhand equipment, and got to work on a song demo. Any day now a publisher would pick up one of his songs. He was getting closer all the time. Little Big Town Publishing had been encouraging. A song picked up by a Nashville publisher—maybe that would be enough to win Ella back. A guy could dream.

  * * *

  Cecily called Ella’s cell shortly before lunch. “Want to get a salad at Zelda’s?”

  No way was Ella going out in public dressed like this. ‘Um, I’m working at the shop.”

  “On a Monday?”

  “I had a lot to do.” And a lot to run away from.

  “Oh. Well, how about I pick up something and come by?” Before Ella could think up some excuse to keep her away, Cecily said a breezy, “See you in a bit,” and ended the call.

  Ella looked at her mismatched shoes and frowned. She should’ve told Cecily she didn’t have time for lunch. The last thing she needed was her friend the matchmaker coming by. Cecily could be unnervingly astute, and Ella was already unnerved enough.

  Half an hour later Cecily was tapping on the shop door. Ella opened it and she walked in bearing a big take-out bag, the aroma of chicken dancing in with her. “I got a couple of hot chicken salads,” she said just in case Ella’s nose wasn’t working.

  “That sounds good.” Ella hurried back to the other side of the counter to hide her feet.

  Cecily allowed her a moment to savor her first bite, then said, “We missed you last night.”

  Ella could feel her face catching fire. “We got busy putting up a tree. I thought it might help sell the house.”

  “Uh-huh,” Cecily said diplomatically. She took a bite of salad, then picked up the multibead red necklace Ella had put on the counter earlier. “This would be cute for the holidays.” She checked the price tag. “I think I’ll get it for Mom. Even though you’re not open, you wouldn’t mind ringing it up, would you?”

  Ella could feel her friend’s assessing gaze on her. Oh, this was awkward. She gnawed her bottom lip as she rang up the sale.

  “Everything okay?” Cecily asked.

  Ella slipped the necklace in a gift bag. “I think I made a mistake.”

  “Which time? When you got divorced or when you slept with Jake last night?”

  Ella stared at her friend in wide-eyed shock. “Are you psychic?”

  “When we called and Jake said you’d been drinking eggnog and couldn’t drive, it wasn’t too hard to figure out something was up.”

  Ella groaned. “I was stupid. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

  “I guess you weren’t thinking of Axel.”

  Axel. She’d forgotten all about him. “Oh, if he found out…”

  “Don’t worry,” Cecily said. “Nobody’s going to tell him.”

  Except maybe Jake. “I should never have slept with him,” Ella said. “And I’m sure not going to do it again.”

  “Never say never.” Cecily leaned over the counter and looked at Ella’s feet. “By the way, am I hallucinating or are you wearing two different shoes?”

  “You’re hallucinating.”

  “Uh-huh,” Cecily said, and left it at that.

  * * *

  The bakery was closed on Mondays, so after Willie was out the door for school, Cass and Dani and Amber (who’d been allowed to miss school so she could be part of the all-important mission) had made the trek to Special Day Bridal in Seattle. Now Cass and Amber waited in the seating area for Dani to model the dress of her dreams.

  The shop was a feast for the eyes, with celebrity-worthy bridesmaids’ dresses and white gowns fit for a princess hanging everywhere. Lace, organza, satin—money, money, money. The velveteen chair Cass was sitting on probably cost more than all her living room furniture put together. She wouldn’t be surprised if this dress cost more than all the furniture in her house. And the appliances.

  Amber hadn’t stopped prowling the place since they arrived. “Look at this one, Mom.” She pulled out a tiered organza number.

  “It’s beautiful,” Cass acknowledged. Everything here was.

  Dani came out of the dressing area, followed by the shop owner, who’d had been hustling in and out with goodies.

  “Oh, my,” Cass breathed. A montage of scenes flashed through her mind: Dani as a smiling baby, jumping up and down in her crib with excitement, waiting for Cass to lift her out; five-year-old Dani blowing out the candles on the doll-shaped birthday cake Cass had made her; Dani at seventeen, wearing her first prom dress. Her daughter had grown up overnight. Now, here she stood, a beautiful woman in her bridal gown, every mother’s dream come true. She wore an off-the-shoulder long-sleeved white silk taffeta dress with a formfitting bodice and sweeping, full skirt. The cuff, neckline and hem were trimmed with white angora to match the white angora hat. Scalloped layers of tulle trimmed with lace and silver sequins added bling. Cass could see why her daughter had fallen in love with the dress.

  Dani looked at her hopefully. “Well, what do you think?”

  “Wow,” Amber said.

  “It’s stunning,” Cass said.

  Dani beamed. “I love it so much.”

  Cass swallowed and asked, “How much is it?”

  Dani brushed a hand along the soft trim. “Twelve hundred and sixty dollars for the dress.”

  “It’s on sale, thirty percent off,” the store’s owner threw in. “And we won’t have to do any alteration, which is unusual.”

  “And the hat?” Cass asked weakly.

  “Two hundred dollars.”

  So, fourteen hundred and sixty dollars. Plus tax. She’d pay it, though. It was worth every penny to see that radiant smile on her daughter’s face.

  “Don’t worry, Mom,” Dani said. “Daddy’s going to pay for it.”

  He was? “Oh.”

  “I talked to him yesterday.”

  Without telling her. Be glad he’s picking up the tab, Cass advised herself. Be glad he wants to be involved.

  “That’s…great,” she said, injecting goodwill into her voice.

  “He said to call him and he’ll give you his Visa number,” Dani told the woman.

  “That was really cool of Daddy,” Amber said.

  “Yes, it was.” In spite of the pep talk she’d just given herself, Cass found it difficult to get the words past the jealous bone caught in her throat. She’d worked so hard, done every
thing for her kids, and now she felt like she was being displaced. Bought out and squeezed out.

  “I know it’s not rational,” she said to Dot later that day when she was back in Icicle Falls. “But, damn, it bugs me that he gets to ride in on his white horse after being such an absent father. And it’s so…passive-aggressive. He doesn’t talk to me at all, discuss what he will and won’t pay for. He just cherry-picks and coughs up the money for the big, high-drama items.”

  Dot’s bunion surgery had been a success and now she sat enthroned on her couch, her foot propped up on a pillow. The coffee table in front of her hosted a get-well box of Sweet Dreams chocolates from Dot’s friend Muriel Sterling, a glass of water, a crossword puzzle book and the TV remote. And now a bowl of the chicken stew Cass had brought.

  “Come on, kiddo,” Dot said. “Everything’s a high-drama item when you’re planning a wedding. You know that. And if your ex is like most men, he’s clueless. He wouldn’t think to offer—he just waits around with his checkbook. Your daughter’s got his number, in more ways than one. She calls and says, ‘Daddy, I need money,’ and he forks it over. The silver lining is that you don’t have to pay.”

  And Dani had the gown of her dreams. Still… “I feel like I’m paying in other ways.”

  “Everything has a cost. I know it’s hard to share when you’ve pulled most of the load and had the kids all to yourself for so long, but it looks like that’s changing and there’s nothing you can do about it. It’s all part of the for-better-or-worse thing.”

  “Well, it shouldn’t be, since we’re not married anymore,” Cass said grumpily.

  “Divorce doesn’t cancel out for better or worse, not when you’ve got kids.”

  Dot was right, Cass told herself as she drove home. She had to come to grips with the fact that Mason was in her children’s lives (and hers) to stay. Why was that so hard to do?

  Because it wasn’t fair, that was why.

  How many times had the kids said that to her over the years? And how many times had she replied, “Who said life is fair?” Of course, it wasn’t, and now she’d have to follow her own advice: make the best of it.

  She remembered how happy Dani had looked standing in that bridal shop in her wedding gown. Her daughter was getting married and she got to be a part of it. If she couldn’t make the best of that, she had something seriously wrong with her.

  * * *

  “I’m not going to keep encouraging Richard,” Charley told her reflection. The woman looking back at her was all dressed to party in charcoal slacks, a black sweater and a diamond pendant necklace—the very necklace Richard had given her for Valentine’s Day three years ago.

  Not going to encourage him, huh? That was why she’d let him play footsie with her on Saturday night. That was why she’d bought mistletoe and hung it up. That was why she was wearing a Victoria’s Secret black bra under her sweater. Planning on removing your sweater later tonight?

  She frowned at her reflection. “You are pathetic.” She had to stop being pathetic. Didn’t she?

  No, she answered herself. Everyone deserved a second chance. Richard really was sorry and he was doing everything he could to prove it. And she was sticking with Victoria.

  The doorbell rang, sending butterflies swirling in her stomach. Silly. She felt like a teenager getting ready to go to the prom instead of a woman about to go out to dinner. She opened the door and he stepped in, smelling like Armani cologne.

  “You’re gorgeous,” he said.

  “It’s just pants and a sweater,” she said, feeling ridiculously pleased.

  “I wasn’t talking about the clothes.” He held out a small box.

  “What’s this?”

  “Just a little something I thought you might like.”

  She opened the box to find a pair of etched silver open teardrop earrings. “They’re lovely.”

  “I thought they’d look good on you.”

  Pricy earrings, sleigh rides, expensive brunches, pitching in to help during a crisis—no man went to all that trouble unless he was truly sorry for his wicked ways.

  And now they were off to the Orchard House Bed and Breakfast several miles outside of town for a five-course dinner sponsored by one of the local wineries. Another pricy bit of penance, and a penance she was happy to let him pay.

  Zelda’s was closed on Sunday and Monday evenings, and after the crazy weekend they’d had, a spectacular dinner that she didn’t have to plan and prepare was exactly what the doctor ordered—although a heart specialist might have suggested she attend with someone else.

  The Orchard House’s restaurant was a feast for the senses, with a fire burning in the river rock fireplace, sparkling silver and crystal on linen tablecloths and holiday floral arrangements that must have cost an arm and a leg. In addition to a treat for the eyes, diners were given a treat for their ears with a harpist in one corner of the room, playing Christmas carols. Charley took it all in, making mental notes on how she could improve her own place.

  The food was incredible, from the first course, which offered caramelized apple with brie and red wine cherry glaze, to the dessert—white chocolate strawberry shortcake paired with a cabernet sauvignon.

  “That was fabulous,” she said as they drove back.

  “Like the woman I’m with.” He smiled at her in a way that turned her poor insides to mush.

  She was a goner. Tonight she was going to cave. She knew it, Richard knew it. A woman could only hold out for so long. Anyway, it didn’t feel right to hold out any longer. Driving home together, sharing this intimate space while Aerosmith serenaded them with “I Don’t Want to Miss a Thing” felt like the good old days when they were happy together. They could be happy again, couldn’t they? Heck, they were happy right now.

  Still, she was going to make him fight for this last bit of ground. When they pulled up in front of the house she didn’t invite him inside. She knew she didn’t need to, anyway. Just as he’d been doing since he hit town, he’d invite himself in.

  Sure enough. “Can I talk you into a nightcap?” he asked softly.

  “I’m stuffed.”

  “How about some conversation, then?”

  “Talking is good.”

  Talking was, indeed, good. They took a stroll down memory lane and then his hand took a stroll along her arm. A minute later he was kissing her. “You are an amazing woman. You know that?” he murmured.

  “You’re just now realizing?”

  “I knew it all along. Take me back.”

  She pretended to consider. “I might. Depends on whether you’re still any good in bed.”

  He grinned and proceeded to show her.

  They’d gotten as far as playing show and tell with her Victoria’s Secret bra when she heard sirens. “Do you hear that?”

  “Hmm?” he said as he kissed his way down her neck.

  “Sirens,” she said, stating the obvious.

  “Someone probably left a candle burning.”

  One of her friends or neighbors. She pushed Richard away and sat up, straining to hear. A fire right before Christmas would be a nightmare. She made a mental note to give whoever was dealing with it a gift certificate to Zelda’s.

  “They’re nowhere near us.” Richard ran a hand up her back.

  She ignored the flutter it caused in her chest. “It sounds like they’re somewhere downtown. If that’s the case, it’s someone’s business.”

  She’d barely finished speaking when her phone rang. Suddenly, she knew who the fire victim was.

  13

  Charley stood across the street in shock, watching as her baby went up in flames. She’d poured everything into this restaurant—her money, her time, her heart and soul—and now it was dying before her eyes. So was a part of her.

  The flames lit the night and the faces of bystanders as firefighters scrambled to put out the blaze. The heat blew in her face, taunting her. It took the chill from the night but Charley couldn’t stop shivering. How could this be happening
? She stood rooted to the street, hardly noticing Richard’s arm around her, watching the place that had hosted so many people, so many events, turn black.

  As the fire hoses did their work, the flames evolved into giant plumes of smoke. That was even worse than the flames, a real-life illustration of what was happening to her dreams.

  It was difficult to see past the tears, but she became aware of her friends, coming to stand by her. Cass positioned herself on Charley’s other side, opposite Richard, and Samantha and Cecily fell in line next to Cass. Finally, Ella slipped behind her and draped a big blanket over her shoulders. They stood around her like palace guards, deflecting inquisitive townspeople and curious tourists alike, wrapping her in love.

  Fire Chief Berg came up to her. “I’m sorry, Charley.”

  “What caused it?” she asked, barely able to speak.

  “We won’t be able to tell for a while. Once the fire is completely out, we’ll do salvage and investigate the area of origination. I’ll call you as soon as we know something, I promise.”

  She nodded and managed to thank him.

  “You can’t do any good here and tomorrow will be busy,” Richard said, attempting to lead her away.

  She resisted. “No. I’m going to stay until the fire is out.”

  “Charley.”

  “I’m staying,” she said through gritted teeth.

  He gave up. “Okay.”

  People began to drift away, but her friends remained until Zelda’s restaurant was nothing but a charred shell.

  “Now we need to go home,” Richard said.

  This time she didn’t resist. There was nothing more to see.

  She didn’t cry until she got home. Then she curled up in her bed and sobbed. Richard climbed in behind her. Pulling the blankets over them both, he wrapped her in his arms and let her have at it. She cried until her head throbbed and she was hoarse. Finally, exhausted, she fell into a fitful sleep. But with dawn she was awake and staring at the ceiling while the tears slid down her cheeks.