“No problem, sport.” He stops short of ruffling my hair. I feel foolish. Ami’s pretty intuitive and every few years since junior high, she’s accused me of being in love with Garrett. Even if I could ever bring myself to admit she’s right, it’s definitely one-sided. Garrett will always think of me as a buddy and nothing more. Which, considering my record for broken engagements, is probably pretty smart of him.
Then why kiss a buddy? That’s a question that’s kept me awake a few nights. I glance at his brown curls bent over my computer. Maybe he felt sorry for me because it was Christmas and I was feeling down? Surely if that was the case, he would have just bought me a cup of hot chocolate. A little peck on the lips, I could possibly attribute to living in California for so long where they seem to kiss on the lips as often as we hug in the south. But that kiss. . .it was no little peck on the lips. It was the stuff memories are made of, unfortunately. “Do you see the problem?” I ask.
He looks up, his green eyes sparkling. “It seems to be working fine.”
Yeah, for you maybe. Casual kisses may be something you don’t give a second thought to, but—I rein in my crazy thought process and remind myself we’re talking about the computer. “It takes forever to boot up.”
He rolls his chair back and motions toward the monitor. “I deleted your temporary files and cleaned things up a little. But it comes up pretty fast now.”
“Okay, great then.” Just in case he’s under the delusion that I called him over for a repeat of Christmas Day, I add, “Thanks for coming.”
He picks up my new price list from the desk. “I thought I’d go ahead and update your Website, add in your clearance prices.”
“You can take the list and do that from your own computer, right?”
“In a hurry to get rid of me?”
“No, not at all.” I’d like for him to stay and talk with me about this elephant in the room, but the only thing worse than ignoring the beast is worrying that I’m the only one who can see it.
He pats the chair beside him. “Then sit down and help me do the Website. We’ll knock it out in no time.”
I sit beside him and call out prices as he makes the changes. After we finish, he leans back and looks up. I follow his gaze to the place where the mistletoe had been.
“Hmm. . .” he says, smiling. “So much for Christmas all year round.”
I take a deep breath. Garrett and I have always shot straight with each other. I’m tired of playing games. “I guess I decided that if someone was going to kiss me, I’d rather know it was because of who I am and not because of what’s over my head.”
He looks into my eyes. “I can’t imagine anyone ever kissing you for any reason besides who you are.”
“I don’t have all that good a track record with reading people’s true emotions.”
He puts his hand on mine. “I’m sorry you had to go through what you did with those guys. Sorry I wasn’t around to pick you up and dust you off. At least the second time.”
I shrug, the warmth of his hand burning into my skin. “What can I say? I have trust issues. But with Nathan, I brought it on myself. I could see early on it was a rebound relationship, but I told myself I could make it work.”
“Remember how uncomplicated life was when we were kids?” he says. “When we knew what we needed and could easily get it if we tried?”
I blink at the apparent subject change and pull my hand from his to push my hair back. “Vaguely.”
“Sometimes I wish it could be that way again.”
His eyes are haunted. My heart physically hurts for him. “What do you need, Garrett?”
“If I knew, I guess that would help, huh?” He half-laughs, but it sounds hollow.
“You and God doing okay?” He hasn’t missed a church service since he got back from California, but I’m not naïve enough to believe that means he’s automatically doing fine spiritually.
He nods. “I’m pretty sure He understands me.”
“Then everything else is just gravy, isn’t it?” That’s what he used to tell me when we were in youth group together. ‘If you’ve got God, everything else is just gravy.’
His slow smile spreads across his face. “That’s right, sport. Maybe I just need to spend a little more time on my knees.”
“Maybe we all do,” I say softly, keenly aware of my own tendency to try to handle things on my own.
“The Website sales still holding steady?” he asks.
“They keep my lights on.”
“I’m glad about that. Wish you could have the success you deserve.”
“I’ll settle for paying the bills.”
He pushes to his feet, so I stand, too. “I’d better go.”
“Okay, thanks again.”
He leans toward me and brushes my hair back from my face. His gaze is locked on mine and my heart races. But he drops a chaste kiss on my forehead. “See you later, sport.”
“Yep. Or sooner.”
“Even better.” He walks out the door and I collapse onto my chair. We didn’t exactly discuss the elephant, but maybe we at least made it to the jungle.
~~~~~
The next afternoon, the door chimes and several women come in. “Welcome to Forever Christmas, ladies,” I call from behind the counter.
“Ami told us you had a clearance sale too good to resist,” a stocky redheaded woman says.
“So we decided to be fair to each other and all come at once,” the older woman behind her adds. She lifts her glasses that are hanging around her neck and looks at a price tag.
I recognize a couple of the others as Ami’s fellow teachers and smile. Apparently, my sweet friend went on a business-finding mission on my behalf. The ladies swarm the clearance tables, some of them wandering off into the full-price sections. This is what the store should be like all the time. How it was before the town began to die.
“What will you do if the name change goes through?” A slender blonde asks me casually.
Such a simple question. But it stumps me. I glance at the calendar. Today’s my parents’ deadline, so it won’t be law school, unless I want to pay for it myself, which I wouldn’t mind if I wanted to go, but I don’t. I shrug. “I’m not sure, actually.”
Starbucks, as I’d told my mom? Not a bad job, but not my dream of running this store either. Of course, I could keep the store and hope that the novelty of having a Christmas store in a summer-themed town would be enough. Except I’d have to lose the bitterness. I can see me at sixty, running Forever Christmas in Summer Valley, grumbling about how it used to be when the town went by its proper name of Jingle Bells. Not a pretty picture.
“It sure would be weird not to live in Jingle Bells, wouldn’t it?” the woman with the reading glasses says softly, while she’s examining a nativity scene.
My phone rings and keeps me from having to respond to her rhetorical question. I pick it up and paste on a smile. “Forever Christmas.”
“Hello, Kristianna.”
My heart sinks as I hear my dad’s voice. I was hoping today would pass unmentioned. Surely they hadn’t really held out any hope that I would respond to their ultimatum favorably. Not after I was so blunt.
“Hi, Dad.”
“I’m assuming since we haven’t heard otherwise that you decided against law school.”
“Yes. Sorry.”
He sighs. “Me, too. This is really hard on us, but especially on your mother. She had to fight to get to where she is. And she doesn’t want to see you waste your talent. Neither of us do.”
“I know. But it’s the things we work hard for that we value. And if I ever. . .” have a brain transplant and. . . “decide I want to go to law school, it will be better if I have to fight for it myself. Right now, I’m working hard for what’s important to me.”
“Even though I don’t really understand your motivation, I’m proud of you for that.”
Tears edge my eyes. “Thanks, Dad. That means a lot to me.”
“Since I have to
give your mother the bad news about law school, how about letting me have some consolation good news for her?”
“What do you mean?” I glance out at the store, where the teachers are still shopping hard. Go, Ami!
“I know it would please her if you’d come to the Valentine’s Dinner at the Peabody. It’s a benefit for that new museum and she’s on the fundraising committee.”
Too bad I don’t have a dentist appointment so I could have a good excuse not to go. But it’s for a good cause and after he said he was proud of me, how can I say no? And as an added bonus, it will fill in the night that unattached singles everywhere dread. “Sure, I’ll come.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful. We’ll see you then.” He hangs up the phone without a good-bye, same as always.
I turn back to help the teachers finalize their selections. Twenty minutes later, they’ve all left with their purchases and I’m staring at my cash register. Who knew seven teachers could pick business up that much? I owe Ami bigtime.
The door chime rings again and the by now familiar teenage delivery boy comes in carrying a large box. The wrapping paper is printed with sand dollars and seashells.
He plunks it down on the counter in front of me and runs out the door.
I lean toward the box. It’s not ticking. So I’m guessing he was afraid of me, not the package. Probably thought I might torture him to tell who hired him. If I’d been prepared, I might have tried to bribe him with cookies and milk. But since I’m pretty sure who the sender is, that might be a waste of a good snack.
I pluck the note from the small envelope on top and open it. Kristianna, Dreams are the glue that hold sandcastles together. You can hold onto your dreams no matter how much your world ends up being changed by the tide.
I read it over again. And again. How does he go right to the core of my soul every time? This one’s a little different. More about helping me accept the inevitable than trying to convince me. On one level, that comforts me. On the other, it makes me more determined than ever to fight.
I open the large box carefully and pull out a shimmering sandcastle. Amazed, I stand back to absorb the beauty, but the detail draws me in closer. I spend a good ten minutes, examining each turret and flag, every set of stairs. What a fascinating work of art. I pick up the note and reread it. You can hold onto your dreams.
Is it true? Can I? Could I have a store called Forever Christmas in a town named Summer Valley? Maybe. But what about my neighbors and fellow shopkeepers? What about their dreams?
Regardless of the poetic nature of the note, anybody knows the best way to keep a sandcastle together is to keep the tide from reaching it.
The phone rings and I grab it. “Forever Christmas.”
“Kristianna, it’s your mother.”
Mother always starts our conversations that way, like I wouldn’t recognize her voice. “Hi.”
“Your father tells me you aren’t going to law school. You’ll be lucky if he doesn’t end up having a heart attack over this decision of yours.”
Typical. They both try to make me feel guilty for displeasing the other. “I’ll be praying he doesn’t.”
She pauses like she always does when I mention prayer or God. I think she doesn’t know what to do with that part of my life. “Well, speaking of decisions, he also said that you’d be attending the Valentine’s Dinner with us.”
Before I can confirm, she rushes on, “So I wanted to remind you that when you’re with us, you represent us. Please buy something new to wear. You can go to GiGi’s or Ferdinand’s either one and put it on my account.”
I open my mouth to say I’ll buy my own dress, but then I think of my bank account balance. Plus if she’s demanding I wear something new, when I have perfectly good dresses in my closet, then why shouldn’t she pay for it? “Fine. Thank you.”
“Also I’m sure your father told you that we bought a table for four, so you’ll be expected to bring a date.”
Inward groan. Part of the reason I’d agreed to go was to avoid sitting home dateless on Valentine’s Day. “No. He didn’t mention that.”
She huffs. “Men. The details always escape them. Why don’t you ask that nice young lawyer?”
I run my hand over the sandcastle. “I might.”
“Well, make sure whoever you bring wears a tux. And has good table manners.”
“I think I can handle that, Mother.”
“Good. Then we’ll see you on the fourteenth at a quarter till seven.”
“Okay, see you then.” I say the words to dead air. Something my parents have in common. Too busy to waste time on trivial things like good-byes.
Chapter Nineteen
“So which one are you going to ask?” Ami pulls a long blue gown from the rack. “This matches your eyes.”
I nod and the saleslady takes it back to the dressing room to put with the others. “I don’t know. My parents would rather I ask Shawn. But. . .”
“But you’d rather be with Garrett?”
I shrug. “Probably just because we’ve been best friends so long.”
She rolls her eyes. “Honey, you and Garrett have always had more chemistry than a high school science lab. No worries on that front.”
Maybe on my part. But not his. Ami’s rewriting history to suit herself. I nudge her. “You’re crazy.”
“Why do you think I’ve brought it up through the years? Sometimes the sparks beneath the surface of your friendship are just too bright to ignore.”
“Oh that sounds like a country and western song. If you ever get tired of teaching, you might have a second career there,” I say, as I look at a cute little red dress.
She raises her eyebrows. “That’s fine. Make fun of me. But I’m right and you know it.”
“So what? I should just call Garrett up and ask him to go with me to the Valentine’s Dinner?”
“Well, first ask him if he has a tux.” She reaches over and plucks my cell phone from the outside pocket of my purse.
“You mean right now?”
She flips it open. “It’s considered premature to buy the dress before you line up a date.”
“Thank you, Emily Post.”
“Any time.” She motions to the phone.
I shift from foot to foot then turn my back to her and punch in Garrett’s number.
“Hello?” His deep voice calms my nerves so I turn back around.
“Hey. How’s it going today?”
Ami rolls her eyes again and I glare at her. I never claimed to be a brilliant conversationalist. Especially under pressure.
“Pretty good. You doing okay?”
“Yes, fine. I wanted to ask you something. But if you’d rather not, it’s perfectly okay, really.”
Ami makes a “move on” motion with her hand.
“What?”
“My parents want me to go to a Valentine’s dinner and I thought you might go with me. It’s a benefit for that new museum, and my parents already have the tickets. But you’d have to wear a tux. And like I said, if you’d rather not go. . .” I stop talking--not because I have sense enough to quit rambling but because I’m completely out of breath.
“Sounds good.”
“It does?”
“Sure, sport, I’d love to go. What time should I pick you up?”
We arrange the details and I hang up quickly.
“So?” Ami says.
“So he said he wants to go. He thanked me for asking him. Do you think he heard me when I said he needed to wear a tux?”
She nods. “I don’t think he’ll have a problem with it. He wore one for my wedding.”
“True. Do you think he felt cornered?”
“He’s thrilled to go. Trust me.” She pushes me toward another rack of dresses. “Now that you have a date, let’s find you the dress of your dreams.”
“You said you’d try on some, too,” I remind her. “For your first married Valentine’s date with Mark.”
She shoots me a saucy grin. “Going to Buon Natal
e doesn’t require quite as nice a dress as a museum benefit.”
“Hey, I love Italian food.” Buon Natale means Merry Christmas in Italian, and it’s one of my very favorite restaurants in Jingle Bells.
“Me, too, actually. So maybe a new dress is in order.” She lowers her voice to a whisper. “But we’ll have to look on the clearance rack for me since my mother’s not footing the bill.”
“Oh, yes, lucky me. Of course, she is the one who demanded I get a new dress.”
“Then c’mon, missy, time to mind your mama.”
Two hours later, we’re on a first-name basis with Barbara, our saleslady. She neatly tucks a clear plastic bag over my new blue dress. “I can’t get over how this brings out your eyes. You look so beautiful in it.”
“Thanks. I appreciate your help.”
“I enjoyed visiting with you girls. Makes me wish my daughters weren’t so far away.” She shakes out the little pink number Ami found on the clearance rack. “This is a good deal.”
Ami’s eyes sparkle. “My husband will like it twice as much that way. He’s an accountant.”
Barbara turns around to bag it and I nudge Ami. “You just like to say ‘my husband’, don’t you?”
She nods and grins. “Yep.”
Barbara hands us our dresses and we leave happy.
“So you’re going to call and make us appointments at Angel Hair and Nails?” Ami asks as we walk out to the car.
“I feel silly making a big deal out of this. And you know it’ll be packed on Valentine’s Day.”
“Angel was your gran’s best friend. Pull some strings and get us into the back room.”
The back room is usually reserved for wedding parties and celebrities like Miss Jingle Bells or the May Queen. “I’ll do my best.”
“Tell her Garrett is your date. That’ll do it.”
I laugh, but I know it’s true. Everyone loves Garrett. “No, I think we’ll keep that little fact to ourselves.”
“I won’t tell a soul, but never underestimate the Jingle Bells grapevine. Sometimes it’s almost scary how quickly news gets around.”
“You’re right. But as much as the whole town likes Garrett, I’m afraid they’ll be upset to hear he’s going out with the runaway bride.”
Forever Christmas Page 14