Christmas on Main Street

by JoAnn Ross

  “Smart thinking.” Pete tapped his temple.

  “And, Dad, thanks for talking to me man-to-man.”

  “It helped. And you know what?”

  “What?” Clint asked and then drained the last of his beer.

  “I might have played jolly old Santa every year, but this is the first time in a long while I’m really looking forward to having a merry Christmas. It’s good to have you home.”

  7

  It’s Beginning to Look a Lot like Christmas

  Ava helped Ronnie clean up the sparkles and glitter left over from several hours of ornament making with a roomful of rambunctious children. Their Saturday-afternoon Christmas Crafts for Kids workshop gave local parents a few hours to do some shopping around town, knowing their children were supervised and getting the chance to be creative. With only two weeks left before the big day, time was running out. Plus, the kids loved creating presents for their parents and friends.

  “Did anyone actually get any glitter on the ornaments?” Ronnie grumbled as she dumped a dustpan full of it into the trash.

  Ava laughed. “Good question. Hey, I can finish up here. Why don’t you head on out. I know you’ve got something better to do on a Saturday evening. You just might want to change from your elf costume first—although you do look cute in it.”

  “It’s not a costume. I am an elf.” She pointed to her pointed ears. “These are real. I bake cookies in a tree, too.”

  Ava laughed. “I believe you.”

  “Hey, I’m going over to Sully’s tonight with a bunch of girlfriends. It’s Christmas Carol Karaoke Night. It’s always a riot. Why don’t you come with us?”

  “Thanks, but I thought I might head over to make cookies with my mom.”

  Ronnie stomped her elf boot, causing the bell on the toe to jingle. “Ava, it’s Saturday night. You need to let your hair down and have some fun. Call up some friends.”

  “Most of my friends are married with kids.”

  “Well, they need to get out too.”

  “I don’t want to run into Clint,” Ava admitted. In all honesty, she was disappointed that all she’d seen of him the past two weeks was when she spotted him stopping by at Grammar’s Bakery. Pete had actually been dropping by the shop dressed as Santa.

  Ronnie hugged the broomstick to her chest. “I think you do want to run in to him.”

  “I do not!”

  Ronnie arched one eyebrow. “The man sent you flowers, bourbon balls from Rebecca Ruth, and a cinnamon cake from Grammar’s. I think he’s sending a pretty clear message. You need to call him! And the next thing on the agenda is a kiss. Then you’ll know if there’s still something there.”

  Ava caught her bottom lip between her teeth and felt a blush steal into her cheeks.

  “What?” Ronnie dropped the broom and didn’t even flinch when it clattered to the floor. “You kissed! You’ve kept this juicy little tidbit to yourself! How was it? Amazing?”

  Ava nodded glumly.

  “Well, why don’t you go after him? I bet today you get an Edible Arrangement or something. What does the man need to do? I don’t get it.”

  “Ronnie, it’s obvious that there’s still something there, but I don’t want to get hurt all over again.”

  Ronnie shrugged. “Well, if you ask me, I’d much rather get hurt than never know.”

  “I’m not asking you. Look, my wise little elf, I should never have told you about the kiss. It just sort of slipped out.”

  Ronnie put her arms akimbo. “Let me guess—because you can’t stop thinking about the kiss? About him?”

  Ava felt heat creep into her cheeks once more.

  “Thought so.”

  Ava started walking around tossing trash into a big plastic bag. “It takes more than flowers and candy. Why doesn’t he show up?”

  “Maybe he wants you to think about him, you know, and miss him.”

  “I’ve missed him for fifteen years!” Ava said and then clamped a hand over her mouth.

  “Ava,” Ronnie said gently. “You didn’t just tell me anything I hadn’t already figured out. Give this a shot. What is the worst thing that could happen?”

  “Like I said, I’ll get my heart handed to me on a silver platter.”

  “No. I’m telling you, that’s not the worst thing. Having a shot at happiness and not taking it? You’re made of stronger stuff than that. Besides, Cricket Creek is a small town. Do you seriously think you can avoid him forever?”

  Ava groaned.

  “What do you have to lose?”

  “Um, my heart, my self-esteem, my pride, my store.”

  “Your store?”

  “I threw that in for good measure.”

  Ronnie rolled her eyes. “Okay look, why don’t you come out with me tonight to Sully’s Tavern? Christmas Carol Karaoke Night really is a blast, and if Clint totally ignores you or it goes way wrong, then I’ll shut my piehole once and for all.”

  “You promise?”

  “Elf’s honor.” Ronnie made a show of crossing her heart. “So you’re coming?”

  Ava inhaled a deep breath and then gave her a level look.

  “I’ll take that as a yes.” Ronnie picked up the broom and handed it to Ava. “I’ll come by and swoop you up at eight. Oh, and wear something sexy!!” She waved her hand over her head as she hurried toward the door.

  After Ronnie breezed out the door, Ava stood there in the middle of the room holding on to the broom for support. “Now, how in the world did I just let that happen?”

  Ava tidied up the shop, pretty much going through the motions, but her thoughts were hitting all over the map like a pinball in an arcade machine. Excitement, fear, and anger were pinging around in her head until she couldn’t think straight. Ronnie, of course, was right in so many ways, but she was looking at the world through the eyes of a twenty-two-year-old. At that tender age, Prince Charming and the fairy-tale wedding were still somewhere on the horizon and on a Pinterest board. There was . . . hope of finding true love and living happily ever after . . . romantic notions that Ava had all but given up on. But were she and Clint still single for a reason? Did he deserve a second chance? Ava closed her eyes and sighed. Hope was being tossed to her like a life preserver in her sea of doubt.

  Should she grab it?

  Yes! The word rang out in her head like a giant gong. “Well, why not?” she said softly, but her voice sounded loud and clear in the empty shop. “Why the hell not.” She picked up a smiling stuffed monkey that had fallen to the floor and hugged it to her chest, reminding herself that this wasn’t about failing but about trying. This wasn’t about getting hurt but finding out and, yes, about grabbing on to and clinging to . . . hope.

  She pushed the monkey back and said to it, “Now, for that all-important question! What in the world am I going to wear?”

  Ava laughed as she locked the front door and then took the stairs up to her loft two at a time, startling Rosie, who was perched on the sofa, looking out the window. Forgetting to scold Rosie for sitting on the back of the sofa, she said, “I’m going out tonight!”

  Of course, all Rosie knew was the word “out” and bolted for the back door.

  “Okay . . . okay!” Ava laughed and opened the door, letting the cold, crisp breeze cool her cheeks and chase away the rest of her doubt. This time of year meant long hours at the shop, but instead of feeling dead on her feet, she suddenly felt energized and ready to go!

  8

  This Christmas . . .

  Clint popped the top off of a Kentucky Ale and slid it across the bar to Noah Falcon. The tavern was filling up fast, and there was a festive feel in the air that had everybody abuzz with conversation and laughter. Evidently, Christmas Carol Karaoke Night was a popular annual event in Cricket Creek. There were even prizes to be awarded.

  “Hey, let’s set up a time to get together and talk,” Noah said.

  Clint leaned closer to the baseball legend and nodded. “I’d like that. I’m living over at the high-rise
across from the stadium.”

  “Good deal,” Noah said. “Ty McKenna is home watching his kid tonight, but I’ll introduce him to you next week.”

  “Thanks, I’m looking forward to it,” Clint said. Noah Falcon was a hometown hero in more ways than one. First, for being a major-league baseball superstar and then for being a soap-opera heartthrob, but mostly for building the baseball stadium that brought prosperity back to Cricket Creek. Clint had once dreamed of following in Noah’s footsteps, well, except for the soap opera part, but he was really looking forward to this opportunity. The Cricket Creek Cougars were a step below the minor leagues and competed in an independent professional baseball league designed to give players a chance to play the game and get noticed by scouts for the big leagues. Many of them either had gotten cut at the higher level or, like Clint, never got the shot to prove themselves at the higher level.

  Clint slid a couple of beers over to another customer and then turned to his father, who was mixing a martini. “It’s getting packed in here. When does the karaoke begin?”

  “As soon as Mia Patrick steps up to the microphone and gets things under way.”

  “Isn’t she also the public relations director for the Cougars?”

  “Yeah, and married to Cameron Patrick, a Cougar player who got drafted into the minors and is doing quite well, I might add. She’s cute as a button but a tough little cookie when it comes to business. Got me to buy a big ol’ sign advertising Sully’s out in center field. Oh, here she comes now.”

  Clint looked over to see a cute blonde hurrying to the microphone. She was wearing a sparkling silver dress and high heels that looked impossible to walk in, much less hurry in. “Good evening, everybody, and welcome to the third annual Cricket Creek Christmas Carol Karaoke party!” Beer bottles and glasses were raised, and a loud collective cheer went through the crowd.

  “I just want to remind everybody that there is a big box for canned goods right here behind me.” She gestured overhead with her thumb. “We want to stock up the food bank for the holidays. And if you didn’t already know, and I’m sure you do because I don’t shut up about it, Heels for Meals—my charity with my friends Olivia, Jess, Madison, Sunny, Violet, Bella, Nicolina, and Myra—is going strong over at Violet’s Vintage Clothing or you can access us online. Ladies, we’ve got a nice collection of donated designer shoes for sale just in time for the holiday season! All of the proceeds will go directly to local families in need of some extra help during Christmas and throughout the entire year.

  “That said, here are tonight’s karaoke rules. If you want to come up here and sing a song, it will cost you five dollars, the money going to Pete Sully’s charity, Toys for Tots and Teens. Noah Falcon, Ty McKenna, and my dad, Mitch Monroe, have gotten together to donate lots of prizes including hats, T-shirts, and the grand prize of season tickets to the Cricket Creek Cougars baseball games. We’ve also got dinner at Wine and Diner, jewelry from Designs by Diamante, toys from A Touch of Whimsy, just to name a few. So dig into your wallets and whet your whistle. Oh, and if you have a little bit too much fun, if you know what I mean, there is Santa’s sleigh . . . well, Santa’s minivan, out front ready to shuttle people home.

  “And let’s not forget about the five bucks for a mistletoe kiss. If you’re under the mistletoe and you hear three dings from the tip bell over at the bar, you have to stand there and wait for your kiss from the person who put up the five bucks . . . unless you want out of it—that will cost you ten.” She waited for the whistles and applause to die down. “Let’s get this party started!”

  Clint joined the crowd and applauded. He leaned close to his father and said, “Wow, I’m impressed.”

  Pete nodded. “Our little town bands together and does big things.”

  “I agree,” Clint said. He would have added more, but when he glanced over to the front entrance and saw Ava enter with Ronnie, the rest of what he was going to say evaporated in his brain. They paused at the coat check his dad had set up to accommodate the crowd, and when Ava slipped off her long leather jacket, Clint caught himself staring. She wore a tan skirt that hit above the knee and a shimmery gold button-down sweater that exposed the smooth column of her neck and just a hint of cleavage. Her hair was piled up in a loose bun with just a few loose tendrils caressing her face. Her jewelry was minimal, and she wore dark brown leather boots with chunky heels that added to her height. The look was timeless, classy, and yet Clint didn’t think he’d ever seen a woman look so damned sexy.

  “When you pick your jaw back up off the floor, I could use two Bud Lights,” Pete requested.

  Clint nodded absently to his father, not hearing a word he’d said because in that moment, Ava looked over at him. When their eyes met she didn’t look away, but held his gaze. A slow smile spread across her face, making Clint’s heart thud. Something had changed.

  “Oh, for Pete’s sake—and I do mean me,” Clint’s father grumbled and nudged him out of the way so he could grab the beers. But then Pete must have spotted Ava looking at Clint. He grinned. “Well, I’ll be . . .”

  “We’re packed. Where’s she going to sit?” Clint asked, worried that Ava might leave before he had his chance. But then a group of girls sitting at a round table over in the corner waved to her and Ronnie.

  “Go on over and say hi. I’ll hold down the fort here at the bar,” Pete offered.

  Clint shook his head. “I’ll wait until they get settled before I head over there,” he said. In truth, he needed time to gather his wits about him and figure out something clever to say.

  “Okay. Let me know when you want to get your mistletoe kiss. It’s over there . . .”

  Clint looked over his shoulder to where his dad was pointing. “Seriously? At the hallway to the bathrooms? You can’t avoid going under it.”

  Pete chuckled as he handed another beer to Noah Falcon. “I know. At some point you have to put yourself at risk, right, Noah?”

  Noah laughed. “You got that right.”

  Clint shook his head and looked over at Noah Falcon. “It’s for a good cause. I’m guessing it becomes pretty popular later in the evening. But I’d sure hate to get turned down with the ten-buck rule.”

  “Well, unless you’re married,” Noah said with a laugh. “Olivia is over there sitting with Myra, Jessica, and Madison. She’d be pissed if another woman tried to kiss me, so I’ve got a slew of tens in my pocket.” He patted his jeans.

  “Who came up with this mistletoe craziness?” Clint wanted to know.

  “Mia did last year,” Pete replied. “She’s a money-making machine, especially when it’s for a good cause.”

  A moment later, Clint was laughing until his sides hurt when Ava, Ronnie, and her group of friends stood up and got the karaoke started with “Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer.” Ava was doing more laughing than singing, but Ronnie held her own, bringing the house down with the funny ending to the song.

  Noah chuckled and pointed to the next group heading up to the microphone. “Ty is home with his son, Ben, so Jessica could come out tonight. In case you didn’t recognize them, that’s her daughter, Madison, and of course their aunt Myra, who used to run the diner until Jess took over.”

  “Jessica doesn’t look too happy about singing,” Clint observed while he watched Myra and Madison all but drag Jessica up to the stage.

  Noah laughed and raised his phone to film the whole thing. “Ty is going to be so sorry that he missed this.”

  The trio did a very bad version of “I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus,” but still got a very big round of applause.

  “Hmmm . . .” Pete got out his clipboard and made a note. “Could win the worst performance,” he said with a chuckle.

  When Olivia stood and started singing a beautiful rendition of “Blue Christmas,” Clint observed Noah beaming with pride. During his baseball heyday, Noah Falcon had been known to be quite the playboy, but he sure looked at his wife with adoring eyes. With that in mind, Clint looked over at Ava’s table in t
ime to see her with her chin cupped in her palm, listening intently to the song. He thought about his dad’s recent admission and knew it to be true. Christmas is blue when you can’t spend it with the people you love the most. The first year after the divorce, Clint couldn’t bring himself to come home to a broken family and had stayed in his dorm and eaten a frozen turkey dinner, wishing all the while for his mom’s mashed potatoes and gravy. From that moment on, Christmas represented more sadness than joy. This Christmas, he hoped things would be different. His father nudged him and handed him a martini glass.

  “Take this over to her, Clint. I’ll get Mia over here to help me behind the bar. She gets a big kick out of ringing the tip bell.”

  Clint took the delicate glass from his father’s big hand. “Okay, but if you need me . . .”

  “Go! You’ve been working your tail off all week. Have some fun tonight.”

  When Clint hesitated, Noah said, “Hey, if you need some extra help behind the bar, I’ll step in for you.”

  “Thanks, Noah,” Clint said.

  “If you’re wondering if I’m buttering you up, I am. I played college ball with Jake Barnet and he has really good things to say about you. I really want you on my staff.” Noah winked. “Now, go get that sweet little toy store owner you’ve been staring at since she walked in.”

  “I think I will.” He put the drink down for a second and reached in his pocket for his wallet. “Dad, here’s five bucks. Ring the bell when you catch Ava beneath the mistletoe.” Clint picked the glass back up, took a deep breath, and wished he had a drink of his own for a little liquid courage. He’d approached plenty of women over the years, and no one had ever made him feel nervous jitters the way he was feeling now. But they were good jitters, the kind he always felt with the bases loaded, two out at the bottom of the ninth inning. He was halfway over to the table when he saw Ava get up from her chair. His heart pounded when he saw that she was headed in the direction of the ladies’ room.