Little White Christmas

by J. Lynn Bailey

  A single tear navigated its way down Sarah Beth’s face. She wasn’t sure she could take the truth. But she had to. She wanted to know. She needed to know the truth, just so she could move on with her life. “Suppose I hear him out, then what?”

  “Well then, you know. Then, and only then, can you make a logical decision. Because, right now, best friend, you’re running on booze and a broken heart, and those two are never a good combination.” She picked up Sarah Beth’s glass from the lip of the bath and smelled it. “Oh God. Whiskey? Has it really come to this?”

  “It was the only thing I had under the sink.”

  “Well, I’d rather drink dish soap.” Josie made a face.

  Josie, Sarah Beth knew, would always give her the truth, no matter how bad or how dire the situation. And that was something she admired most about her best friend. Because, in the end, she was always there to help Sarah Beth pick up the pieces.

  “Tell you what. I’ll give you until tomorrow morning to wallow. After that, you’re going to call Shane, and you’re going to ask for his side of things. Then, you’ll make a choice.” Josie stood. Kissed her friend on the forehead. “Come on. I’ll help you get in bed.”

  Josie helped Sarah Beth out of the bath. She was a little tipsy, laughing one minute and crying the next.

  When Josie got Sarah Beth into bed, she looked up at Josie. “My parents think I’m a lesbian because I’m not married with kids yet. If I were, I’d marry you. You are my favorite friend in the whole wide world, Jo. I love you.”

  “Oh no, things are good with Tom.” Josie laughed. She did want to talk about Tom but also wanted to be funny. “Real good. We had crazy sex last night.”

  Sarah Beth sat up out of bed. “What?”

  Josie laughed. “Kidding.”

  Sarah Beth lay back down and smiled. “I really like him for you. I’m sorry I didn’t ask.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “But no crazy sex?”

  “Not yet.”

  “No nieces and nephews yet?” Sarah Beth smiled and rolled over onto her side.

  “Not yet. Someday maybe but not yet.”

  Once Sarah Beth was asleep, Josie quietly snuck out the front door.

  Sarah Beth was up early and went to work. She felt like an idiot for not allowing Shane to tell her his side of the story. She had taken a woman’s word for it. A woman she didn’t even know.

  She decided she’d call Shane after work. She needed a good eight to ten hours to get him out of her skin, out of her mind.

  But who was she kidding? She knew she couldn’t get him out of her mind.

  It was cold today. Thirty-seven degrees was the high.

  She returned voice mails from parents.

  Met with two children for disciplinary issues.

  Made copies.

  Made coffee.

  Replied to more emails.

  Cleaned out her inbox.

  Looked at budgets.

  Another reason she loved the holidays was that it was slower around work. She could take a breath. Get some air.

  She also dreaded going home today. She knew she’d have to make a call she’d rather not make, but it was the right choice.

  So, at six after six, she made it to her car. She’d driven today because it was indeed cold.

  The rain started as just a tinkle against the roof and then a downpour.

  She pulled out her phone. Clicked on Shane’s number and called him.

  “Sarah Beth,” he said breathlessly.

  She was certain the phone hadn’t rung.

  “Hey,” she said awkwardly.

  “Can I come over?” he asked.

  No, no, he couldn’t come over because then she’d see his face. Smell his smell. And wouldn’t be able to be strong. If they did things over the phone, she might be able to hold her ground. Sarah Beth was no pushover.

  “No. I can’t, Shane.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Why … why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I didn’t know, Sarah Beth. I had no idea who Mia was until she showed up at my door that night.”

  “At your door that night? I’m not following.”

  Shane sighed into the phone. “She showed up the night before at my dad’s place. Said I was the father. I-I didn’t know what to do, Sarah Beth. She looked vaguely familiar. But I honest to God don’t remember having sex with her.”

  “Go on.”

  “I planned to tell you that night at dinner. But thought better of it. Quite honestly, I was terrified I would break your heart … so I thought I’d tell you the next morning after breakfast. And then there she was.”

  The rain lightened up.

  And she could vaguely hear the Christmas music from Main Street.

  Sarah Beth wasn’t sure what to say, except, “Is the baby yours?”

  “Please don’t hang up after you hear this.”

  Oh God. Her heart shook from her chest as her stomach met her ankles.

  “I drove her into Eureka to get one of those DNA tests before the baby’s here. I told her about you and about our past and everything. Told her that I was in love with you and that you have always been the one.”

  Goddamn it, Sarah Beth’s heart couldn’t take much more. The one?

  Stay strong, Sarah Beth. Stay strong.

  Thank God he wasn’t in front of her. Thank God she couldn’t smell him or feel his skin.

  “Look, I’m not sure where this puts us. I’ll accept whatever you decide. But know this: you’ve always been the one.”

  Sarah Beth didn’t have many words for Shane because they were caught somewhere in her heart, and she wasn’t sure how to get them out without crying, so she simply said, “I need some time, Shane.”

  “I know,” he whispered. “I know.”

  The rain began again.

  “I have to go.” And with that, she hung up.

  Sarah Beth didn’t have closure. She had a few answers but no closure. What would be her closure? What would be the final straw? And then she asked herself the deepest, darkest question that she didn’t have the answer to, Would I stay with him if the baby is his?

  And on that cold, raining, wintery night, instead of drowning her heart in whiskey, she did what she loved. She went home and took out her little fake Christmas tree and her Christmas decorations. She put on Christmas music and began to decorate her little home.

  Shane stayed in the back of her mind all night. He never left. In fact, she figured, he’d never left her heart since they were kids.

  And as the evening crept on, her heart somehow felt fuller. Maybe it was the Christmas tree or the music or the decor. Or maybe it was hope.

  It was the feeling Shane gave her.

  Shane made her feel like the most important person in the room.

  As if he loved her heart more than he loved his own.

  As if he would take care of her and keep her safe.

  As if he’d loved her far longer than she loved him, but he had just been too scared to say anything.

  Now, she knew.

  Shane Sawyer was in love with Sarah Beth Dawson.

  Because, at the end of the night, as she stared at the twinkling lights on her Christmas tree and before she tucked herself in bed, she asked herself one question for the final time.

  If Shane is the father, would I be willing to stay?

  TEN

  Shane

  Shane had felt a broken heart before only once—when his mom died.

  Even at ten years old, he couldn’t figure out why his chest hurt so bad. Why it was hard to breathe. Why he felt so lonely. All he wanted was for all of this to go away and for everything to go back to normal. At age ten, Shane’s eyes were so swollen from all the crying he had done at night, in the shower, in the barn when he took care of the calves.

  He didn’t dare cry in front of his father. It wasn’t that he was scared of what would happen; it was just that he didn’t want to make his dad sadder than he already was.

  So, aft
er a week of all that grief nonsense, Shane had convinced himself that all the crying and sadness weren’t going to bring his mom back, so he’d better stop carrying on and pull his shit together.

  The current situation was no different. Seventeen years later, his chest hurt. It was hard to breathe. And all he wanted was for things to go back to normal.

  But this time?

  He didn’t cry.

  He swallowed every last ounce of his decision not to tell Sarah Beth about Mia immediately.

  Shane’s mom’s death had been out of his control.

  But he sure as hell could have prevented this one.

  What Shane wouldn’t give to go back, to rewind time.

  He’d sat at her front porch for two hours. Knocked. Pounded. Waited for her to at least give him some sign that she was all right.

  When she didn’t, Shane called Josie.

  He’d told her everything.

  Told her he just wanted someone to check on Sarah Beth. Make sure she was all right.

  But at some point in his life, he had to start making the right decisions for the right reasons and not the wrong decisions for what felt right.

  Shane played that tape back in his head from some months ago in Texas.

  Tried to remember Mia’s face. Some recollection that they’d had sex.

  If he had drunk so much.

  Allowed himself to indulge.

  Remembered to put a condom on.

  In the circuit, there are women everywhere. Beautiful women.

  Pearly white teeth.

  Big smiles.

  Long hair.

  Short hair.

  But to Shane, it didn’t matter. He felt the regret in his bones. Played the if I had just game in his head countless times.

  But facts were facts.

  They’d have the results in two weeks. Two days before Christmas. Two weeks was a long time to wait when life got flipped upside down.

  He’d just have to wait patiently and pray to God that Sarah Beth would take him back. At least give them a chance. If the kid was his, then he’d take full responsibility. He’d love his kid, just like his dad loved him. His mom loved him.

  “Hey, you want to come out here? Need your help.” His dad peeked in through his bedroom door.

  Shane stood. “Yeah.”

  He knew his dad could see his pain, see his son grappling with big decisions that lay ahead, but he tried to hide it anyway.

  Shane followed his dad out to the living room.

  Jack Sawyer, the man who had sworn off Christmas when Shane’s mom died, had set up a Christmas tree in the corner of their living room. Hung two stockings on the mantel, next to his mom’s ashes.

  Shane didn’t know what to say, but in that moment, he felt his mom. He felt every part of her in the room with them that night. It was the first time in seventeen years that he might just enjoy a tiny ounce of Christmas.

  “Dad …” Shane searched for the right words as the pressure in his chest let up just a little.

  “I’m sorry, son. I should have done this a long time ago. I denied you some of what could have been the best times in our lives because I couldn’t see what was right in front of me. This sweet little boy, thinking Christmas was just another workday. It’s not.” He paused. Stared down at the carpet. “Don’t let your grief dictate who you are. Whether you figure it out with Sarah Beth or not, don’t let your broken heart dictate the rest of your life. Because I did. I missed out on you as a kid.” His dad placed a fist to his mouth to hide his expression as the tears welled up in his eyes. “Son, no matter what, I’m always going to be there for you. And I promise, the outcome of this situation, I’ll be the best damn grandpa in the world.”

  Shane’s words got caught in his throat. He didn’t know what to say or what to do, but he’d never seen his father be so open with his emotions before.

  “Help me with the lights outside?” his dad asked.

  Shane smiled. He’d always wanted to put lights on the house. But they never did. At Christmas, their house was lit with only a dim torchlight and a whole lot of sadness.

  “Thanks,” Shane said. “Thank you, Dad.”

  And with that, the two men who’d spent years running from each other and from the pain of loss and the pain of Christmas started to create new traditions built on love.

  They stood back and admired their work. Two thousand twinkling, colorful bulbs, four big lawn ornaments, and a giant Santa on the roof, and they were done.

  “God, I forgot how much I enjoyed Christmas,” his dad said.

  “You enjoyed Christmas?”

  Jack looked at his son curiously. “Don’t you remember us doing this same thing before your mom died?”

  “No.” Shane shook his head and thought real hard, trying to recall the memories that had been locked away for so long. But in that moment, Shane realized that he’d spent years trying to forget things, so the pain didn’t hurt so bad. He’d stuffed all the good things away, so he wouldn’t remember because when he did, his chest grew heavy, and the sadness returned. So, on that day, when he was ten years old and made the choice to stop hurting, he’d also made an unconscious choice to forget the good too.

  When they walked back to the front door, there was a small gift in red wrapping paper. On the tag, it said, To my boys.

  “Did you put that there?” Shane’s dad asked.

  “No. Did you?”

  Jack shook his head. Reached down and picked up the small gift. Handed it to his son. “Here, you open it.”

  Shane took it and unwrapped it.

  Inside was a small framed picture of Shane at about six years old and his dad, arm in arm with grins on Christmas Day, in the front yard with all the Christmas lawn ornaments, Santa on the roof. His mother had obviously taken the photo.

  A note fell out.

  Shane and his dad were dumbfounded.

  Shane asked his dad, “You didn’t do this?”

  Jack shook his head. “No. And you didn’t?”

  Shane shook his head.

  Shane bent down and picked up the note.

  I’m here. You just can’t see me.

  Love,

  Mom

  Chills ran the length of Shane’s spine.

  He looked at his dad, his mouth open.

  Jack was no different. Neither of them said anything. They just stood and stared at the note and then each other for enough time to realize what had happened.

  Finally, Jack rubbed his face with his hand. “We aren’t dreaming, right?”

  Shane looked at his dad and began to giggle and then laugh. And so did his dad.

  “I have an idea.” He pulled his phone from his front pocket. “Come on.”

  His dad followed him to the spot where they’d taken the photo twenty-one years ago. Shane held up his phone. He put his arm around his dad, and his dad did the same. With tears in both their eyes, they smiled, and Shane took the picture.

  That night, Shane was truthful to his dad about what was really going on with his shoulder.

  The outlook wasn’t good, but it was better than the alternative. He couldn’t live with the lies anymore. He’d lied to protect his dad, his dreams for his son. And a lot of it was also that he was too scared to see the truth.

  But what was truth in lies?

  He’d read somewhere that a clean conscience made for a soft pillow.

  It had been thirteen days, almost two weeks. Three days before Christmas. Shane had given Sarah Beth time, as Josie had suggested.

  It just about killed him.

  In that thirteen days, he learned to slow down. He followed the doctor’s orders.

  Dad finally hired two ranch hands to help pick up the slack. Shane didn’t like it, but he had to accept it.

  Mia went back to Texas.

  The clinic said they’d put the results in the mail.

  Because Shane was on a new playing field now with right decisions, he’d started a letter for Sarah Beth on his phone. He told her ab
out his shoulder and the truth of it all. He told her about his mom and the memories he had with her and the gift she’d given him and his dad. He told her about what it felt like when he thought about leaving the pro-rodeo circuit. He told her about how he loved the way she was superstitious and how she loved Christmas and how he was surprised that the whole damn world hadn’t fallen in love with the dimple she had just below her mouth. He told her that he missed her body and how being in love and walking away were two of the hardest things he’d ever experienced. He also told her that he’d wait for as long as it took to win her back. That he wasn’t going anywhere. He told her about a few job opportunities that might require some travel. That Justin Boots, a western footwear company, had called and asked him to do several commercials for them. That Wrangler had asked if he’d be the spokesperson for the following year. And the contract was pretty hefty, but he hadn’t told Sarah Beth about that part. He knew she wouldn’t care.

  When Shane started to get truly honest about who he was and what he’d done and righted his wrongs, things began to happen.

  He received job opportunities beyond his wildest dreams.

  Sometimes, people fell into the right things at the right time.

  Shane checked the mail on his way home, and inside the mailbox was the letter he’d been waiting for. He wanted to throw up and burn it, but at the same time, he wanted to rip it open.

  He took the mail inside, and his dad was in the kitchen.

  Jack knew immediately that something was wrong. “What is it?”

  Shane tossed the mail down on the counter. “The results of the paternity test came.”

  Jack paused. Set the milk jug down on the counter.

  Jack had decided to stop drinking. It had been almost thirteen days since his last drink. Jack might have been a heavy drinker, maybe a functioning alcoholic, but he knew he had to leave it in the past with his grief.

  But Shane and Jack couldn’t keep enough milk and candy in the house. For whatever reason, those were two of Jack’s weaknesses at the moment. Shane would take that any day.

  They both stared down at the letter with the return address as LACO Laboratories.

  Jack finally spoke, “Whatever it is, son, it will be okay. And if Sarah Beth can accept you as you and maybe your unborn child, then she’s in it for all the right reasons.”