Christmas Comes to Dickens
Page 14
“And I don’t believe that for a minute.” She lifted her chin in defiance.
“Well, you don’t have to.” He quickly zipped his coat. “Be careful traveling home, Ariana. I hope you got what you came for.”
He left, the door slamming a little too hard behind him, and she jumped. Tears filled her eyes as she watched his shadow stalk down the brick walk and across the parking area to his truck.
“I didn’t know...” she whispered.
Turning, she noticed Kat standing beside her. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” she said.
“I need to go after him.” She bolted forward.
“No. Let him go.”
Whirling back, she looked Kat square in the eyes. “I need to explain. We can’t let him just go off like this. Things just feel...undone.”
Kat grasped Ariana by both shoulders and gave her a little shake. “Ariana, this is Matt’s problem to work out. Not yours. And not mine either. You and I have both done all we can. He’s the one who has to work through these issues.”
“And what issues are those, Kat?”
She glanced off and exhaled. “The picture triggered a bad memory.”
“How was I to know?”
“You couldn’t. But it was in the cabinet for a reason. I put it there a few years ago when he had a similar reaction. I made the same mistake back then.”
She studied Kat’s face. “Tell me. What happened to your parents?”
Kat let out a long sigh. “The picture... That was the last day we saw our parents alive, Ariana. Right before our lives changed forever.”
She could see the pain in Kat’s eyes, after all this time. “I know losing your parents hurts, and I don’t mean to make light of your pain at all, but I have to wonder why Matt has taken this so much harder, even to this day?” Ariana wasn’t sure how Kat would take the question, but she meant it in the sincerest way possible.
“It’s simple, Ariana.” Kat stared into her eyes. “He thinks their deaths are his fault.”
Chapter 7
BY THE NEXT MORNING, Ariana had made her decision. Her bags packed, she parked them by the front door. After laying her coat, purse, and camera bag on the bench, she made her way to the kitchen. According to the local news station, the storm had moved out of the valley and toward the coast, and the roads were gradually opening. A quick call to the local law enforcement agency informed her the county roads were open again between the inn and downtown Dickens, and in the surrounding areas.
She could likely make it to Boston easily over the next day or so and get a flight home. She’d make further travel arrangements once she was clear of Dickens and found a room for the night. She was in no hurry, really, and could use the hotel time to write and upload her blog posts.
There was no reason to stay at the inn, and every reason to leave. She had experienced Dickens, taken pictures and recorded story ideas, and had a great stay. Now, it was time to go back home and get to work on next-year’s Christmas article pitch to the national magazine.
Stepping into the kitchen, Ariana noticed Kat glance her way as she stood flipping pancakes. Aimee bounded off her stool at the kitchen island and rushed toward her. Dylan looked up from his coffee.
“Well there she is,” Kat said. “Coffee?”
“I would love some. Do you have a to-go cup?”
Kat stared at her. “You’re not leaving.”
It wasn’t a question. Approaching her, Ariana said, “It’s time. I thought about it last night. I made a mess of things and it’s best I go now. I hope you understand.”
“But we haven’t made the gingerbread houses yet. And tonight is Christmas Eve. You don’t want to be alone on Christmas Eve, Ariana....”
To be honest, she may not have thought her plan through. Tomorrow was Christmas. Nevertheless, she’d decided. It would be fine, and she could use the alone time to think. She stepped closer to Kat. “If I can be honest, I don’t think I have it in me to be festive and cheery today. I wouldn’t be good gingerbread house making company.”
“Well, I’ve never seen a gingerbread house making session where people are all doom and gloom. It might do you good, Ariana.”
She shook her head. “No. It’s okay. I have writing to get done and I can do it in the hotel room.”
“And you can also write upstairs in the room you’ve stayed in the for the past two days. Forget the gingerbread. Just stay. If you leave, you’ll wake up tomorrow morning alone in a hotel bed on Christmas day. I’ll not have that.”
Dylan stood up and went to the coffee maker. “It’s settled. You’re not going anywhere.” He poured another cup and then took a sip, looking over his cup at her.
She appreciated their efforts and their words, but her mind was set.
“Thank you both, but I’ve already made my plans. This is for the best. Besides, the three of you deserve some family time, and I don’t want to interfere.”
Aimee sidled up beside her and tucked her little hand in Ariana’s. “But you’re family. I don’t want you to go. I have a stocking for you and everything.” Small tears formed on Aimee’s lower lids.
Crouching, she searched Aimee’s eyes. “Oh sweetie. That’s so nice of you. I would love to share your Christmas Eve tonight but I’m just not able to. I need to start heading home to my own family.”
“But we are your family too. Right?” Aimee looked at her mother.
Ariana followed her gaze. “What?”
Kat let out a breath. “It’s something Aimee asked for in her prayers last night. For you to be part of our family.”
Aimee nodded. “And it’s on my wish list for Santa.”
To say she was overwhelmed would be an understatement. Ariana blinked back tears and reached for Aimee, holding her tight. “You are such a sweet girl. I love you to pieces.”
“I love you back, Ariana,” she said. “Please stay?”
Standing, she swiped at her tears with one hand, and held Aimee’s small hand with the other. “Aimee, I can’t stay this time, but I do hope I can come back and visit again. Maybe another Christmas?”
The girl teared up more. “Okay. Promise?”
It was all Ariana could do to hold back a sob. “I promise.”
“But how do I know?” Aimee looked up at her with expectant eyes.
Ariana bent again and whispered. “Just believe, little one. Just believe.”
Aimee nodded and smiled.
“Now, back to your breakfast.”
Aimee climbed onto her barstool and Ariana turned to Kat. “Can you meet me at the front desk? I still need you to sign the photography waiver.”
She dried her hands on a dishtowel. “Of course. I forgot all about that.”
Ariana kissed Aimee on the cheek. “Goodbye. I’ll see you again.” Then she looked at Dylan. “It was so nice to meet you, Dylan.”
“Likewise. Please come back again. I mean that.”
“I will.”
She headed for the entryway. Once there, she turned to Kat. “I left the waiver on the desk. You can sign and return to me by email when you get a chance. But Kat, there is one thing I want to say before I leave.”
“Ariana?”
“I am truly sorry. I meant no harm. I wish... I wish I could rewind the whole scenario and make it better. My heart aches that I did something to hurt Matt. And you. I would never intentionally hurt either of you. And, well....” She paused, glancing away. Words were escaping her.
Kat grasped both her hands. “Ariana, it’s okay. I understand.”
“Matt doesn’t.”
“He will.”
“I’m not so sure.”
Turning, she pulled away from Kat and reached for her coat. “I can’t thank you enough for the beautiful stay, and for your hospitality. I’ll be sure and send you a link to my blog posts and I assure you they will all be positive.”
Kat smiled. “Please do. I look forward to reading them.”
Ariana swung her purse and camera bag over her shou
lder, and then grasped the handle of her roller bag. “When you see Matt, please tell him goodbye for me, too.”
“Why don’t you say goodbye yourself? I can tell you how to get to his farm.”
She knew what Kat was doing. “No. I’m the last person he wants to see.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure.”
She fished her car keys out of her purse. “I’m sure. He was quite upset.” Tears stung her eyes again. “He wouldn’t let me explain. I tried to apologize but he was not hearing anything I said. I feel like things are left undone... But Kat? Now is not the time. I’m not sure my heart can take it.”
She turned and twisted the doorknob, not wanting Kat to see the tears streaming down her face.
“I think his heart is broken, too.”
She glanced back. “Is that what I’m feeling? A broken heart?”
“That’s for you to decide, Ariana.”
She sniffed and then nodded.
“Stay around a while and think about it.”
Shaking her head, she said, “No. This is not the place for me to wallow in what I did wrong and how I feel. I need to go, Kat. Again, thank you so much.”
Moving out the door, she rolled her luggage across the porch and down the brick sidewalk. She was leaving Holly Hill Inn on a much clearer day than the one when she’d arrived. As she circled the drive and drove away, she watched the red clapboard home fade in her rear-view mirror between tears and a few hiccup-y sobs.
What a mess she’d made of things.
MATT PULLED ANOTHER box off the shelf and set it on the floor. This one was full of garland. The one before was full of red ribbons. And the one before that, held lots and lots of glittery plastic balls in assorted colors.
His mother used to string the garland across the front of the store, and the big plastic balls would hang right underneath it. The bows were for the front windows. And somewhere in this backroom, there were some giant wooden cut-outs of elves, Santa and Mrs. Claus, a big red sleigh, and all the reindeer, including Rudolf.
He dug deeper, pushing aside a couple of old, artificial trees. And then he spied them leaning against the back wall.
“Well, hello Santa. It’s good to see you again.”
He’d been up all night. Hadn’t even been to bed. In fact, he didn’t go home, but came straight to the hardware store after leaving the inn, and Ariana. Here, in the back storage room of the hardware, where his mom had stored years and years of Christmas paraphernalia, he’d literally had a come-to-Jesus meeting about Christmas, his parents, and his stubborn Scrooge attitude during this time of year. It was a pretty serious meeting that included himself, the absent Santa, and probably his Maker, about how it was time to get his head on straight about all of the above—and even more importantly, about why he’s been avoiding anything to do with the holiday for way too many years.
Oh, he knew why. He kept playing the same tapes over and over in his head every holiday season. And it was time to forgive himself.
Besides, now he had a good reason—and her name was Ariana.
If she could ever forgive him.
With every box he pulled off the shelf and rummaged through, he saw Ariana pilfering through the boxes in the attic at the inn. Her smiling face, full of cheer and happiness, graced his thoughts and poked as his emotions.
She was an unending bundle of joy...and he’d squashed her without a backward glance.
He’d been wrong last night, and he needed to apologize. Wanted to apologize.
But first, he had a few things he needed to do, and then he’d head back to the inn. She was staying through Christmas so there was time. Hopefully, he could make amends with Ariana, and see if they could try, once more, to get off to a better start.
They’d barely had a chance.
But there was one more thing he wanted to locate if he could.
Pushing through the stacks of boxes, he stood back and glanced over the dusty shelves, his gaze spanning the back half of the room. Finally, there, about midway up on a shelf, was the old hat box he’d been looking for. He pulled it down, dust drifting from the shelf. He blew off another layer of grit from the top and set the box on a nearby table. Carefully removing the lid, he then pulled out a handful of old photographs.
He sat on a nearby chair, suddenly exhausted, but determined. One by one, he looked at every picture in the box of Christmases past. Remembrances flew by through tears and even some laughter. He could only hope by facing some of the happy Christmases he’d had, could he somehow carve out happier Christmases in his future.
EVEN WITH ALL THE CHAOS of last evening, Ariana couldn’t resist one last visit to downtown Dickens. Her heart was heavy, and maybe, another look at Dickens would soften the hurt she felt inside—just a little. After all, she’d come all this way. Right? Even though the situation with Matt was weighing heavily on her, there was something about the town, some sort of magnetic pull, that drew her in.
Perhaps a small bit of Christmas cheer would help.
She parked near the gazebo this time, rather than on the other end of town like before. Pulling into a parking spot, she glanced about the square and focused on the holly-draped wooden structure off to the side. Town workers had been busy clearing snow from the sidewalks and the gazebo, and she decided right then and there, that she needed the perspective of looking down Main Street from the gazebo steps, for her blog. She had not taken that angle the other day.
Removing the camera from its case, she changed out the lens and exited her car. She approached the gazebo, climbed the few steps up to the landing, and turned around to look down Main Street. A few people were milling about—last minute, after the snowstorm, Christmas Eve shoppers, she suspected. Taking a deep breath, she inhaled both sights and smells of the day. Fresh coffee was brewing somewhere. The air was crisp. The sky clear. And the day just beginning.
Ariana raised her camera, focused, and took the first picture looking straight down the street. She angled herself a little to the right, shifted perspectives slightly, and snapped again. Moving the camera along the street, she focused on a man and woman heading into Leslie’s Bakes & More. She snapped another picture. Then past the pastry shop, she panned the camera lens down the street, rounded the corner and grazed over a couple of shops at the end.
Wait. She backed the camera up and looked again, focusing on the shop near the corner. Pointing the lens a little higher up on the building, she pulled the camera away from her face and blinked.
“No. It couldn’t be.”
She brought the camera to her eye again. Yes, it is.
Dickens Hardware popped into her sight, all decked out for Christmas with Santa, his reindeer, and more.
“Well, I’ll be.”
The smell of coffee suddenly became stronger. “I figure it’s better late than never.”
Ariana turned. “Matt?”
“Hi, Ariana.”
“Are you talking about the decorations?”
“Partly.”
“What are you doing here?”
His gaze drifted off, looking down the street. “I suppose I could ask you the same question. I just came from the inn, and was coming back into town, when I saw you park your car. Kat said you left and were heading to Boston to go home.”
“That’s right. I am.”
“But you’re here. In Dickens.”
She nodded. “I, uh...” Glancing to her camera, she wondered if what she was about to say would sound superficial to him, then figured she’d deal with it if it was. “I came to see the town one more time, and well...to take some more pictures. I know you think it’s weird and commercial or something, but Matt, it’s my business. It’s how I pay my bills. And frankly, it’s my passion. Besides, other people enjoy my writing and my photography.”
He stepped closer. “I’m sure they do. And I’m sure I was a jerk about it. To be honest, I don’t remember everything I said to you last night, and if you could spare me a few minutes, I’d like to apologize.”
“What if I want you to?”
“Do you?”
He took a moment before answering—still, his eyes never left hers. “Ariana, can we talk? It’s just a short walk down to the store. Do you have the time? I’d like to explain a few things.”
Ariana bit her lip. She had all the time in the world so why not?
“Matt. I don’t know.”
He took one step down and reached for her hand. “Please?”
Chapter 8
MATT UNLOCKED THE FRONT door to the hardware store and stepped back to let Ariana go inside first. Blinking as she moved into the building, her eyes worked to adjust to the absence of light inside, then Matt flipped on a switch and overhead lights flickered to life.
“Wow. What a neat old building,” she said, looking around and turning to Matt. “Like something you might see in a movie.” Her gaze drifted up from aisles of old shelves and drawers, to the exposed wooden beams and rafters above.
He glanced about. “It is rather cool. There are days I’m sure I don’t appreciate it enough.”
Ariana eyed him, wondering what he meant.
“Follow me.” He took her hand and led her through the center aisle.
The heels of her boots made only a soft sound on the worn wooden floor planks as they walked. Still fascinated by the store and its contents, she took in as much as possible as they approached the rear of the store.
Matt opened a door and led them inside another room.
“It’s a mess. Sorry about the dust. I hope you don’t have allergies.”
“I’m fine.” She followed him to a table. Matt pulled out two chairs and motioned for her to sit. She did, and he sat in the opposite chair.
For a moment, he just sat there looking at her, then reached for her hands and held them. With a lengthy sigh, he peered directly into her eyes.