by Lois Richer
She was sobbing.
“Hey!” Zac drew her to her feet and inspected her face. “What happened? Did you hurt yourself? Where?” He drew back to check.
“I’m f-fine. Oh, Zac.” She shifted, pressed her face into his shoulder and began sobbing all over again.
Zac couldn’t help but wrap his arms around her and try to comfort her. Finally her weeping slowed. She hiccupped once, drew away and swiped a hand across her face.
“What happened?” he asked, smoothing the damp strands away from her face.
“I’m an idiot, is what.” Brianna sniffed, accepted the tissue he offered and blew her nose. “I’m so busy trying to impress my son that I slipped off a chair and singlehandedly destroyed the ornaments that are supposed to go on the Christmas tree. Precious old things and I ruined them all.” Her face crumpled and tears began rolling down her cheeks again. “My mother will be furious when she finds out. She donated them.”
“Don’t start crying again, please?” he begged. Her tears made Zac feel helpless and awkward and useless. “Besides, they weren’t just old, they were mostly chipped and broken. And worse than that, they were ugly. People should thank you. I wish I’d done it. It’s the kind of thing I’m really good at.”
“Oh, Zac.” Brianna choked back a laugh.
“You can’t defend those ugly baubles,” he insisted, relieved to hear that laugh. “They were awful and should have been tossed years ago.”
“Well, they were sort of ugly but—”
“No buts. I’m voting we start a new tradition.” Zac wanted to hold her forever. Who cared that cars were driving slowly by, their inhabitants craning their neck to see who was embracing in front of the nativity display? With his arms wrapped around Brianna Benson he was in another world.
A world that couldn’t last, his brain reminded.
“A new tradition? Such as?” She blinked at him, her lashes spiky from her weeping.
“Wait here. Okay? I’ll be right back.” He waited for her nod, tucked one wayward strand behind her ear then turned and ran toward his car. Less than five minutes later he was back with two large boxes. “Can you help me carry these inside? And don’t you dare drop them.”
“I’m not a klutz,” Brianna replied with an inkling of her usual spirit. “What are they?”
“Remember the day we went to the Christmas farm? I made a purchase. Turned out to be a lot bigger than I realized.”
He opened the boxes and lifted out the beautiful blown glass balls he’d purchased.
“Oh.” Brianna clasped her hands to her cheeks, green eyes flaring with excitement. “I love these. But don’t you want to use them at home?”
“I did.” Zac smiled at her rapt expression. “These are what are left. Turns out I ordered a dozen of each, instead of one. When that clerk said the price I thought they sounded awfully expensive but then Cory said you loved them so I figured to heck with the expense. If Brianna—” He stopped, aware that he’d just given himself away.
“You bought them because you thought I liked them?” Brianna’s eyes grew even more round. “Really?”
Be open, Kent had charged him. Meet the other person halfway.
“Yes.”
“Oh, Zac. I’ve prayed and prayed—” She put a hand over her mouth.
“You’ve prayed for me?” he asked, and knew from her expression that it was true. “I’ve prayed for you, too. For you and Cory and your parents.” He slid his hand over hers. “I want you to be happy.”
“I’m very happy right now,” Brianna whispered, and tilted just the slightest bit forward.
Zac wasn’t stupid. He knew there was no future for them, but this was an opportunity he wasn’t going to resist. He drew her into his arms and kissed her. Her lips were soft and inviting beneath his and after a second she freed her hands to wrap them around him and drew him closer. It was as if ten years had never passed.
This was right, his brain chirped as he deepened the embrace, pouring feelings he couldn’t verbalize in his caress. This was what should be. But just as Zac tried to draw Brianna even closer, she pushed back, tilting her head away from him.
“What are we doing, Zac?” she whispered.
“Kissing.” He grinned at her. “Didn’t you like it?”
He thought she’d joke back. But her eyes darkened to a rich forest-green as she stared at him.
“I always did like kissing you,” she murmured. “You make me feel like I matter. When I’m in your arms I feel protected, as if I don’t have to be the strong one anymore.”
“You don’t,” Zac told her, a rush of confidence filling him.
“For how long?” Brianna broke eye contact then eased away from him. In one fluid motion she slipped out of his arms. With a delicate touch she slid a wire hanger through the glistening glass balls then balanced on tiptoe as she hung them all over the tree. “Sooner or later you’ll be leaving, Zac,” she whispered.
And there it was—the stark, cold truth. There was nothing he could say to contradict her. So he worked silently alongside her, placing the ornaments on the higher branches she couldn’t reach.
“Did you mean what you said?” Brianna asked sometime later.
“I always mean what I say.” He fastened the last ball, then straightened. “But which time, exactly?”
“A few weeks ago you told me that back then, when we were supposed to be getting married, you would have given up your dream for me. Was that true, Zac?”
Zac took a minute to plug in the Christmas-tree lights and admire the soft shimmer of their beauty reflected in the beautiful ornaments. He needed the time to choose his words wisely because he must not hurt her.
“I probably would have, Brianna.”
“But you would have regretted it.” She looked deflated, as if all hope had drained out of her. “I see.” She turned away but he caught her arm, urged her to look at him.
“I’ve learned some things about myself since then,” he said.
“Such as?”
Okay. Kent told him to open up. Here it was.
“I need to be validated, Brianna,” he told her. “Somewhere inside me there’s a little kid demanding I show all the people who once laughed at me.”
“Show them what?” Brianna’s smooth forehead rumpled.
“That I’m worth their respect. That I’m not a nerd. That I’ve done a lot with my life.” Zac waited for it, but Brianna wasn’t laughing at him. With a sweet rush of feeling he realized that she never had. So he continued to tell her what was in his heart. “That’s why I said it’s a good thing we didn’t get married. I couldn’t stay in Hope. I needed to prove myself.”
“But, Zac.” She stopped, frowned and then waved a hand. “Look around. Who is there to show? Everyone has moved on with their lives. They’re not noticing you or what you’ve accomplished. You’re not in high school anymore.”
The way she said it made him feel like a child.
“Why did you kiss me, Zac?” Brianna demanded. “Because I was here and handy? Because you were trying to comfort me?”
“Because you were sad, and I wanted to make you feel better. Because I care about you, Brianna.” That was about as open as Zac could get. He looked at her but she seemed to be waiting for him to continue. “I like kissing you.”
“I like kissing you, too.” A soft smile creased her lips. “But is that all there is?”
“It has to be,” he said softly.
“Because?”
“Because you’re staying here in Hope, and I’m leaving, Brianna. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but as soon as I can.” Zac squeezed her forearms then let go and took a step backward. “I wish I could offer you a future. I wish we could build on what we’ve learned about each other, but it wouldn’t be fair to you because I won’t be staying and
you can’t go.”
“No, I can’t.” She wrapped her arms around herself as if seeking comfort. “Mom and I have some kind of truce started. I have to see that through. And Cory would never forgive me if I took him away from his grandparents now.”
“I know.” Zac reached out and brushed the curling tendril away from her eyes. “I know it’s stupid, Brianna. This need I have to prove myself—I know it’s childish, that nobody cares. But I care. I need to show the world—”
“What?” she whispered when he didn’t continue.
That I’m worth loving.
The unspoken words shocked him. Zac stared at Brianna, realizing that the hole in his heart that had opened up the day she left still gaped.
And that when he left Hope, it was never going to heal.
* * *
“I think that if you try a few of those suggestions, you’ll find it a lot easier to get along with your family this Christmas.” Brianna smiled at her troubled student and escorted her to her office door. “Let me know how it turns out.”
“I will. Thanks.” She gathered up her coat. “I have to hurry. The Your World fair starts in an hour. Merry Christmas, Ms. Benson.”
“Yes, Merry Christmas to you, Trina.” Brianna sank down behind her desk only after the girl had left.
The Your World fair.
For the past three weeks she’d worked alongside Zac, preparing for today while her heart cracked and broke. Not once in all that time had he mentioned the night at the church, so neither had she. He’d escorted her home without saying anything and she’d taken her cue from his silence and kept it through every encounter.
Though his hand might brush hers, though she laughed and smiled, the approaching Christmas season left Brianna anything but happy. She missed their frank discussions, the comfort he offered whenever her mother lapsed back into her old habits. And she’d tried to explain to Cory why Zac no longer came over.
In the stillness of the night, after everyone had gone to bed, Brianna faced the certain knowledge that she loved Zac Ender with all of her heart, that she would love him until the day she died. Zac made her world sparkle and shine. Without him the day passed slowly. But Zac was leaving. And she had to stay. Her father’s health had deteriorated. Her mother was not recovering from her stroke as quickly as expected. Cory had abandoned his self-destructive behavior but to uproot him now was a chance Brianna dare not take. Her place was here.
Zac’s was not.
To keep facing him day after day when all she wanted was to throw herself in his arms and beg him to stay was torture. Everything reminded her of him—the apple pie she’d made last week was his favorite. The manger scene she’d set on a window ledge was one he’d given her eons ago. The green dress she wore today—it reminded her how he’d once admired a green outfit because he said it made her eyes mysterious. But that night at the church, when he’d held her so tenderly, then told her he would be leaving, that’s when she’d known her love would never be returned.
“Oh, Lord, this is so hard.” She squeezed her eyes against the tears. “But You are my comfort. You know how my heart hurts. You know my deepest desires and You will guide me on the best route for my life, even if it’s without Zac.” As she’d done for the past few months, she repeated, “Use me however You want, God. Let me be a living testament to You. Help me show Your love to others.”
Thus strengthened and resting in the knowledge that God would always be there for her, she gathered her jacket and her purse and headed for the school, smiling at everyone she passed.
This would be the most difficult Christmas she’d ever spent.
* * *
“Hey, Mr. E. Pretty amazing, isn’t it?” The student grinned at Zac’s openmouthed gape. “We pulled out all the stops.”
“You sure did.” Zac had already noticed the huge banner outside announcing the Your World fair. In the foyer were directive signs leading to the auditorium but it was inside that auditorium that brought surprise.
The room was divided into booths with signs hanging over each one announcing the student’s goal or dream. Charts, models, illustrations—each booth featured some practical application of their point. Students had grouped together in some cases, or gone it alone in others. The room brimmed with Christmas decorations, all handmade by the students. The total effect was amazing.
“Mr. Ender, we’ve kept folks waiting, hoping you’d do us the honor of saying a little something to open our Your World fair.” The principal smiled at him. “Would you mind?”
“I’d be happy to.” The words slipped out without thought. Then Zac caught sight of the press of people waiting outside the gym doors. He followed the principal to the small podium and took his place on it, heart in his mouth as he scanned their faces. His throat went dry. His palms began to sweat. What should he say?
He saw Brianna, standing at the rear of the group. Her eyes met his. She smiled at him and suddenly Zac felt calmer.
“Ms. Benson has been my cohort in helping create Your World,” he told the principal. “I think she should be up here, too.”
The principal agreed and sent a student to lead her forward. She stood beside him, leaned closer and said, “Congratulations, Zac. But who invited all these people to our little soiree?”
“I have no idea.” He looked at her and saw a flicker of sadness in her eyes, which she quickly concealed. “I’m going to try to make an off-the-cuff speech to open this thing,” he murmured. “When I screw up, bail me out.”
“You won’t screw up. Just speak from your heart.”
Zac got lost in her eyes. Why did she always have such confidence in him?
“Ladies and gentlemen, today we are going to w-witness our future, as seen by your children. You may consider their ideas mere flights of fancy. You may think their goals impossible.” Zac stopped, his throat desert dry from nervousness. The room was so quiet.
Brianna stepped forward.
“We ask you to suspend those thoughts and let yourself fully experience the hopes and dreams of the young people of this community,” she continued. “Examine them. Talk about them. Learn how our world looks to those who will inherit it.” She laid her hand over Zac’s, which held a huge pair of scissors. “So now, on behalf of the students of Hope schools—” She looked at Zac, waited.
A rush of confidence filled him. He could do this—with her.
“We hereby declare Hope’s Your World fair open.” He and Brianna cut the ribbon.
There was much applause then people began to stream inside.
“Thank you,” Zac said to her. “I’m glad you rescued me.”
“You didn’t need rescuing,” Brianna said. “You were speaking from your heart. People respect that.”
A man stepped in front of them, identified himself as media from Las Cruces and asked many questions. When he left there was another, and another.
“How did you hear about this?” Zac finally asked.
“Press release. Want to see it?” The reporter pulled a crumpled piece of paper from his shirt pocket and handed it over. “Smart way to drum up interest,” he said.
Zac smoothed the paper and studied it, conscious of Brianna leaning over one shoulder.
“Wait a minute. I recognize this.” She took it from him, squinted at the artwork. “Cory did this.”
“Cory? Are you sure?” But the more Zac studied the paper, the more he realized the phrasings were not those of an adult. “Your son drummed up all this interest,” he said, waving a hand as locals and strangers alike filed into the auditorium. He looked at Brianna. “You’re not crying, are you?” he asked.
“Tears of pride,” she assured him with a teary smile.
“Well, you’d better wipe them away,” he said tenderly as he dabbed at her face with his handkerchief. “You’ll embarrass him.”
Brianna laughed. And then her eyes locked with his and all Zac wanted to do was pull her close and hold her. Of its own volition, his hand reached out. His fingers grazed her sleeve but a voice stopped him.
“Excuse me? Are you Zachary Ender?”
“Yes,” he replied.
Two men introduced themselves and gave their credentials from state education.
“We were told of this plan of yours and were intrigued. It certainly seems to have interested the kids and the town.” The men explained that a letter from a student inviting them to the event had arrived at their office two days earlier. “Anyone who can generate student interest as you have certainly bears our closer inspection. Would you show us around?”
Zac wanted Brianna to come along but she excused herself. So he ushered the men inside and began telling them how Your World had started. Over the next couple of hours he caught sight of Brianna. Once she was laughing with Eve Larsen. But twice she stood in one corner, a serious expression marring her beauty as she listened to a red-faced parent.
Zac wanted to go to her, but he could not leave the state people. He could not abandon this chance to make his mark on them, to prove himself.
Brianna had been a mediator, he reminded himself. She would handle the parents with aplomb. But as the day progressed, a niggling worry kept him glancing around the room to find her.
“Is something wrong?” one of the men asked.
“Not at all.” Zac abandoned his current search of the room. “Let’s have lunch. The students’ travel club is raising funds for a trip to Hawaii. They’re selling soup and sandwiches.”
Brianna would manage without him.
* * *
“Hi, Mom.”
“Cory!” She hugged him then his two friends. “You guys and your secrets. You’re the PR behind this event, aren’t you?”
“Yeah.” Cory grinned as he high-fived his buddies. “Adam’s thinking about a career as a sports agent, and Hart’s into newspaper stuff so we put our heads together.”
“You did a marvelous job,” she told them. “I’m so proud of all three of you.”