Winter Hearts

by A. E. Radley

  “Merry Christmas, Ren,” Liv said as she locked the door behind her.

  Serenity smiled even wider. “Did you do all that?”

  “Of course not,” Liv said. “They all wanted to support you - all I did was organize them. They love you and your bakery, and they all want you to know that you better not be thinking about taking that jerk’s offer.”

  She came around the end of the counter and Serenity wrapped her arms around Liv’s neck. She kissed her, inhaling the citrus of her hair and tasting her cherry lip balm – they’d become such familiar sensations already and Serenity didn’t know how she’d ever live without them now. “I can’t believe you did that for me.”

  Liv tucked a tendril of hair behind Serenity’s ear and said, “You can send me away if you want, but I’m not going anywhere, and neither is the Sugar Plum.”

  DECEMBER 25

  Serenity got up on Christmas morning feeling lighter than she had in weeks. No matter what happened with Abbott’s, she knew that she would have the town on her side, and more importantly, Liv.

  She got dressed in a turquoise dress and Mary Jane heels, then curled her hair and let it hang down over her shoulders as she put on a plush Santa hat to complete the look. It took her a few minutes to wrap Liv’s present, something she’d ordered a couple weeks ago, as well as the last-minute items she’d picked up for the rest of her family. Then she packed it all up, grabbed a couple purple bakery boxes from where she’d left them on the kitchen counter last night, and headed outside.

  Snow was falling in big flakes and Serenity could see her breath with each exhale. The whole town was quiet and blanketed in snow, and she reveled in her newfound feeling of peace as she drove to Liv’s parents’ house. They always ate their Christmas meal in the afternoon and Liv wouldn’t take no for an answer when she’d invited Serenity to join them.

  “It actually works out perfectly,” Serenity had said, “because my family eats Christmas dinner in the evening. You’ve got to come to my family’s meal if I’m invited to yours.”

  “Of course,” Liv had said, then she kissed Serenity playfully on the tip of her nose.

  Serenity brought cinnamon rolls slathered with maple icing as a gift for her hosts. She sat proudly beside Liv at the table and told her family all about the incredible thing that Liv had done for her last night at the bakery. Serenity enjoyed getting to know Liv’s parents as more than just Mr. and Mrs. Winters, who she’d known since high school and whose bakery order she had memorized.

  When the meal was over, they made their way through the tray of cinnamon rolls, with cups of coffee to wash it down. Then Serenity and Liv drove down the street to Serenity’s parents’ house.

  There, they did the whole thing all over again and Serenity did just as much bragging about the show of support that Liv had orchestrated for her at the bakery. Then, when Serenity’s family was relaxing in front of the fireplace, she led Liv into the den.

  She kissed Liv, then went to her purse hanging near the door and pulled a thin, rectangular gift out of her purse. It was wrapped in butcher paper and tied with a red and white ribbon. She handed it to Liv and said, “Merry Christmas, Olivia.”

  “Merry Christmas, Serenity,” Liv said. She opened the package to find a paperback copy of Ice Castles.

  “I figured you could use it to enjoy some of that elusive relaxation time,” Serenity told her with a wry smile. “Maybe you can get some reading done before you go back to Westbrook.”

  “Thank you, but I don’t know if that’ll work,” Liv said. Serenity frowned as Liv set the book down and pulled a folded piece of paper out of the back pocket of her pants. “My gift to you is a little unconventional. Here.”

  She handed the paper to Serenity. It was thick, at least a couple sheets, and Serenity unfolded it. On top was a copy of a resignation letter addressed to the county prosecutor’s office. Serenity furrowed her brow and looked up at Liv.

  “You’re quitting your job?”

  Liv nodded, then said, “Look at the second page.”

  Serenity did, and found Liv’s resume.

  “I don’t have a lot of experience in a bakery,” Liv said. “It’s all pretty recent, really. But I’m a quick study and I think my boss will give me a good reference. What do you say – will you hire me?”

  “I can’t hire you full-time,” Serenity said.

  “I know,” Liv answered. “But you’re smart and resourceful, and I want to help you any way I can. Together, we can grow your business back up and take back the business that Abbott’s stole from you. What do you say?”

  Serenity threw her arms around Liv and smothered her with kisses. “That’s the best Christmas gift I could ask for. This whole holiday season has been amazing thanks to you.”

  “And many more to come,” Liv said.

  After a minute, they headed back into the living room to rejoin Serenity’s family. Serenity pulled Liv into an oversized love seat and wrapped her arm around her shoulder, and her mother came around with a tray full of hot chocolate.

  They sipped cocoa and listened to the crackling of the fire. Serenity stole frequent glances at Liv, wondering how she’d gotten so lucky.

  NOVEMBER 23, ONE YEAR LATER

  Black Friday marked the beginning of the Christmas season and the Sugar Plum Bakery’s busiest time. It was barely eight in the morning and already there were twenty people standing in the front of the shop, picking up orders and then lingering to drink coffee and chat.

  The little radio on the counter was playing holiday music beneath the din of conversation, and the coffee maker had never worked so hard before. Liv had made at least two pots already and it was beginning to get low again. Serenity knew Liv had it under control, though, so she could focus on the baking.

  “Ashley, can you check the gingerbread?” she called across the kitchen.

  “Sure thing, boss,” Ashley said, weaving her way past the part-time assistant that Serenity and Liv had hired just before the seasonal rush. The shop was feeling a little cramped lately, but no matter how much Ashley and Liv tried to convince Serenity it was time to upgrade to a bigger facility, she couldn’t bear to leave her quaint bakery behind so they all had to make do.

  “Abbott’s is expecting the fruitcakes next week, right?” Serenity asked as she mixed batter for the cakes that would go in the oven next.

  “No, they go out December first,” Liv corrected as she came around the corner. She paused at Serenity’s work space to give her a quick peck on the cheek, then went over to the twin racks of orders all in their purple Sugar Plum boxes and grabbed one for a waiting customer.

  “What would I do without you, babe?” Serenity asked.

  “You’d bake a bunch of fruitcakes a week early,” Liv answered. Ashley chuckled as she pulled the gingerbread for this year’s window display out of the oven. Liv gave Serenity another drive-by kiss on her way back to the front of the shop, saying quietly just for her, “I love you, Ren.”

  “Love you, too,” Serenity said. She turned to grab a cake pan and bumped into her new assistant, then said, “Maybe we really do need a bigger workspace.”

  “Yes, we do,” Ashley said. “We’ve been tripping over each other for weeks and it’s not like you’d even have to pay for the space yourself. If Joseph Abbott wants you to supply all the baked goods for his grocery store, he can pay for the facility where you produce them.”

  “I don’t think I could ever close the Sugar Plum completely,” Serenity said. “Maybe we’ll keep the shop for wedding cake orders and the day-to-day stuff. People seem to really like gathering here for coffee ever since Liv added the bistro tables up front.”

  It had been almost six months since Liv helped Serenity broker the deal with Joseph Abbott and it was working out well for all of them. He saw lower overheads without bakery employees, Serenity had enough income to hire Ashley back, and she got to keep both her business and her autonomy. With the extra money the Sugar Plum was bringing in now, she’d hired
Liv full-time, too, making sure that the two of them found plenty of time for rest and relaxation in the evenings so that she wouldn’t get overworked again.

  The phone began to ring and Liv called into the kitchen, “I’ve got a lot of customers. Can one of you get that?”

  “I will,” Serenity called. “I’ll take it in the office.”

  She wiped her hands and went into the small office at the back of the bakery. It had a tiny desk and no windows, and that was exactly why she hardly ever used it. It had become a storage closet over the years, although now that her staff was growing, she thought it might be time to clear it out and let Liv use it for things like tracking payroll and making the schedule.

  Serenity picked up the receiver mounted on the wall and said, “Sugar Plum Bakery, this is Serenity. How can I help you?”

  “You can stay right there and pretend you’re on a very important call,” Liv said. Serenity smiled and kept the receiver to her ear. A moment later, Liv appeared in the office, sliding the door shut behind her.

  “I thought you had customers,” Serenity said, hanging up the phone.

  “They’ve all been served,” Liv said. “What I really need is a little sugar.”

  Serenity rolled her eyes at the cheesy line, but she put her arms around Liv’s neck and said, “That’s one thing I have in abundance.”

  They kissed, Liv’s arms going around Serenity’s waist and holding her close. After a minute, she released her and said, “That’s all I wanted – just a taste to hold me over until later.”

  “Are you ready for another Christmas season at the Sugar Plum?” Serenity asked.

  “I can’t wait,” Liv said. “I have a feeling it’s going to be our best year yet.”

  ABOUT CARA MALONE

  Cara Malone writes contemporary lesbian fiction with drama, depth, and plenty of heat, including the bestselling medical romance The Origins of Heartbreak and 2017 Rainbow Award Honorable Mention The Rules of Love.

  She can be found writing – and caffeinating – in coffee shops around Northeast Ohio, and when she’s not working, there’s a good chance she’s fixing up her 1950s ranch or curled up on the couch with her house rabbits, Ivan and Scout.

  http://caramalonebooks.com

  A CHRISTMAS MIRACLE BY TB MARKINSON

  CHAPTER 1

  The cold and dampness made it difficult for my brain to comprehend what Steve had just said.

  I replayed the significant words in my head and managed to ask, “You’re leaving?”

  He shuffled on his feet, accidentally stepping in goose droppings. “I can’t do it anymore, Dag.”

  I peered across the water at the Winter Wonderland lights on the other side of the Serpentine. The white and purple colors illuminating the Ferris wheel, rainbow colors for the roller coasters, and a bit of sensory overload for all the other carnival displays, including a creepy ginormous robot man moving his arms and lips, although I couldn’t hear if he was saying anything. My eyes zeroed in on a ride that reminded me of The Tower of Doom. It began its death-defying drop, initiating the riders to screen in glee or fear.

  “We don’t have to go. Are you afraid of roller coasters?” Or creepy robots? I tossed two feckless hands in the air. Steve wasn’t scared of anything.

  He ran his calloused hand down his face. “It’s not the rides. It’s… it’s you. Us. I can’t do it anymore.”

  I staggered back a step, stabbing a finger into the darkness. “Hold on a sec. You’re leaving… me?”

  “Dag, you’re a great girl, but this is a lot more than I bargained for. We’ve been together for ten years—”

  “Twelve,” I corrected him.

  “Yeah, twelve. And”—his arm made a sweeping motion—“look at this. There’s a whole world out there.” His eyes landed on the holiday lights making a mockery of the misery kindling inside the pit of my stomach.

  “Let me see if I’m understanding what is actually happening. You flew me all the way from New York to dump me outside Winter Wonderland in London on Christmas Eve?” The import of the words had a muted effect since I still wasn’t entirely sure this was happening. It had to be a dream. Steve would never do this. Not like this. He wasn’t a cruel man. Teddy Bear. That was how people back home described him. Everyone was always telling me I had bagged the one good man on the entire planet.

  And that good man wouldn’t take me on my dream vacation simply to dump my ass.

  This wasn’t happening.

  It couldn’t be happening.

  “I’m sorry. So, so, so sorry.” His voice expressed genuine grief. “I wanted this trip to fix the feelings inside.” Steve clutched his wool sweater over his heart. “Reignite my feelings for you. But…” He shrugged helplessly. “I’m dying inside.”

  “It’s Christmas Eve.”

  He nodded solemnly.

  I cradled my forehead with my gloved hand. “What do you expect me to do? Sleep out here?” I waved to the darkness on this side of the water. “Like a homeless person?”

  “What? No. You can stay in the hotel. It’s paid for. Your flight home on the thirtieth is paid for as well. Here.” He handed me a wad of British money. “I want you to have this.” He motioned to Winter Wonderland, the festive lights increasingly becoming more sinister, mocking me. How close I came to the perfect holiday. “You’ve always wanted to spend Christmas in London.”

  “With you!” My voice pierced the darkness and landed with impact, given the way he flinched. “You’ve always been a part of all my hopes and dreams. You’re my family. My only family.”

  Several seconds ticked by before he whispered, “I know. I’m sorry.”

  “This can’t be happening. Must be a dream. A nightmare. This can’t be happening,” I muttered repeatedly, walking in a circle, beating my forehead with my hand.

  “Dagny.” Steve wrestled me into his arms. “Shhhh.” He held me tightly, the protruding belly of his two-hundred-and-seventy-pound frame offering me the comfort I’d grown used to when he quit playing football after tearing his ACL his fifth year in the pros. “This is for the best. Once the shock has worn off, you’ll realize we don’t fit together anymore.”

  “You’re still leaving.” I broke free from his embrace. “How could you do this?” I sucked in a deep breath, waving my hands to get air into my oxygen-deprived body. Then another. My brow crinkled, and I couldn’t believe it took me this long to figure out the truth. “Who is she?”

  Steve looked deeply into my eyes. “It’s not what you think.”

  “Who is she?” I repeated with venom.

  He held my gaze, but his determination started to wilt.

  “Who the fuck is she?” My voice was reaching jilted-woman hysterical.

  A hundred feet away, a couple stopped and craned their necks to see the source of the disturbance, perhaps monitoring the situation to see if they should call the authorities.

  Steve straightened, his massive body towering over my five-six frame. It was intended to intimidate the onlookers, not me. His protective side hadn’t disappeared. Only his love. For me. Apparently.

  Steve didn’t love me.

  Not like he used to.

  Had he ever?

  Surely, he had.

  We’d been together for twelve years. Not legally married but cohabitating ten of those years.

  “Who?” I squeaked in a tiny voice.

  His eyes sought out the lights behind my head as if he needed them for strength. “You don’t know her.”

  I sucked my lips into my mouth. “I see.” My vision blurred. Flipping toward the water, I also stared at the lights and listened to the sounds across the way to ground myself into the now and to blunt the emotions whirling inside. “I want to be a-alone.” My voice cracked, and I swallowed the bile back down.

  “Dagny.” He sighed. “Let me walk you back to the hotel.”

  I shook my head. “I want to be alone.”

  His meaty hand was on the shoulder of my pea coat. “I’d never forg
ive myself if anything happened to you. I still love you.”

  I let my shoulder go limp to force his hand to fall, secretly hoping the ground would open up and swallow his cheating ass. “But you’re not in love with me. That’s becoming clearer by the second. You’re a fucking cheater.” I wrapped my arms around my chest, the cold coming off the water penetrating deeper into my pores even through the winter clothing. “Leave me be, please. It’s the least you can do.”

  “It’s dark. You’re alone.”

  He’d never said truer words. The crushing aloneness seeping into every fiber of my being swamped me, nearly knocking the breath out of my lungs. “I am. Utterly alone. Thanks to you. Merry fucking Christmas, Steve Laird. This will be one I won’t likely forget.”

  “I can’t leave you here. Not like this.” I couldn’t see him, but I sensed his brow creasing with worry.

  I pivoted in my newly purchased winter boots. He’d bought them for me during a shopping spree on Oxford Street two days ago. Was it the guilt for having an affair that had opened his wallet? He’d never been cheap, but on this trip he’d gone above and beyond, buying me everything I pointed out.

  “Would it be all that different if the sun were streaming down? I’d still be numb.”

  Steve’s eyes darted to a group of boys, none of them older than twenty, chasing each other on their way around the café at the tip of the Serpentine, heading to the entrance of the Christmas festivities. “It’s not safe. You. Here. Alone.”

  “Maybe you should have thought of that ten minutes ago. Before…” What? Dumping me? No, he’d done more than that. He’d shaken my life like I was an inhabitant in a Christmas snow globe, stirring everything violently around so nothing would settle back into any kind of normalcy.

  Never again.

  Not wanting him to witness my devastation, I said, “I’ll be fine. Just go.”

  He shook his head. “I’m not leaving you here. Not alone.”