A Very Grey Christmas

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A Very Grey Christmas Page 1

by T. A. Foster




  Smashwords Edition

  A Very Grey Christmas

  Copyright © 2014 by T.A. Foster

  ISBN-13:

  ISBN-10:

  All rights reserved.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, actual events or locales is purely coincidental.

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the author.

  Cover Art by Perfect Pear Creative Covers.

  Design and formatting by E.M. Tippetts Book Designs.

  www.emtippettsbookdesigns.com

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Notice

  Books by T.A. Foster

  Dedication

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  About the Author

  Preview of The Hazards of Mistletoe

  Fly

  Written in the Sand

  The Ivy Grace Spell Series

  Time Spell (Book One)

  Cover Spell (Book Two)

  Fire Spell (Book Three)

  Head Over Heels Collection

  London Falling

  Kissing Eden Series

  Kissing Eden

  Loving Eden

  A Very Grey Christmas

  Hollywood Kiss Collection

  Finding Haven

  To my Christmas Love

  I zipped the side of my suitcase and slouched beside it on the bed. I knew it wouldn’t be the same if I didn’t go. How could it? I had spent every holiday with my parents for twenty-one years. I couldn’t buck the trend for number twenty-two, even if it meant Grey stayed behind.

  That meant he wouldn’t be there Christmas Eve. No making Christmas cookies, or listening to my dad sing off-key while my mom bustled around wrapping last-minute gifts. No decorating the tree. No midnight Christmas kiss. No waking up in Grey’s arms. We were actually going to spend our first Christmas in different states.

  I latched the side of my carry-on. I wasn’t taking a chance on losing the presents I had purchased for everyone back home with an airport snafu. I learned my lesson over spring break. They were packed tightly in my bag, wrapped in layers of Bubble Wrap. My boots were also tucked inside. They were the most special gift Grey had given me, and I wasn’t about to check those with my regular luggage.

  “You ready, darlin’? It’s time. If we don’t get on the road, you’re going to miss your flight.” Grey stood in the doorway.

  My heart split in two. I couldn’t do this. What in the hell was I doing?

  “What’s wrong?” He strolled to the bed and sat next to me.

  “I-I don’t want to go. I can’t leave you here by yourself for Christmas. I don’t know what I was thinking.” I buried my face in my palms.

  He brushed the hair off my shoulder. “Don’t worry about me. I’m going to have dinner with Mac and Renee. I’m sure Connor will light the bonfire. He usually does that on Christmas night. It’s a little island tradition.”

  Heavy tears slid down my cheeks. “But that’s not the same.” Spending Christmas with Connor sounded depressing and bachelor-like.

  “Eden, I’ve never had big Christmases. I’m going to work and I’ll be plenty busy. It’s not a huge deal to me. But it is a huge deal to your parents that you’re home with them. So, let’s get going, or your dad is going to have a reason to be pissed at me. I’ve never met the man. I don’t need a criminal record before I see him face to face.”

  I turned toward him, not caring that my face was streaked with mascara. “Won’t you reconsider coming with me? Please, Grey.” We had talked about it twenty times, but I wasn’t ready to give up, even in the eleventh hour.

  He shook his head. “No, this is important for your family. We had Thanksgiving together, and you’ll be back for New Year’s Eve. It’s just Christmas.”

  “Just Christmas?” I didn’t like the way he said it.

  Christmas was my favorite holiday of the year. I thought it was everyone else’s too. How could he make it seem as if it was as insignificant as Presidents’ Day? This was the single most romantic holiday of the year. Valentine’s Day was too cliché for me. Christmas was about sharing special moments and taking silly pictures. It was about cuddling on the couch and watching holiday movies. Christmas was about being together. It was everything we were not going to be.

  “You know what I mean.”

  “No, I don’t. Don’t you love Christmas?”

  “I didn’t grow up like you did with parents who decorated and did the whole tree thing. I had Pops. Christmas was small.”

  “And he didn’t put up a tree?” I couldn’t imagine Grey growing up like that. I hadn’t thought about whether Christmas was a painful time of year for him either. Maybe he would rather skip the whole thing.

  “We had a tree, but it was one of those tabletop ones and it’s not like I had a fireplace, so there wasn’t a chance Santa was going to visit.”

  “What? Are you telling me Santa Claus did not visit you when you lived with Pops?” My jaw dropped. Grey had Christmas without Santa?

  He stood and reached for my suitcase. “Come on, you’re going to be late. We can talk about Santa later.”

  “Do you remember anything about Christmas with your parents? Did they believe in Santa?” I couldn’t drop this. It was a revelation about Grey’s past that was bigger than almost anything else he had told me. I stood rooted by the bed, praying his parents had enlisted Santa’s help every year. That Grey knew there was something magical about Christmas.

  “I was eight. I don’t remember much about those early Christmases. But, yes, Santa visited. I had a stocking, and we had a tree. All that traditional stuff. I’ve got pictures around here somewhere.” His eyes looked misty, but I knew Grey wasn’t going to crack reminiscing about his childhood holidays. He always glossed over the topic.

  “I want you to have that again.” I pulled on his arm, holding him back in our bedroom. “Please come home with me. My parents do all of that stuff. And it’s actually cold in North Carolina. It feels like Christmas there.” Don’t get me wrong, I loved palm trees, but they didn’t really scream Christmas spirit. We needed a good showing of Douglas firs.

  “I appreciate it, but you and I will have Christmas when you get back. Marin’s parents have that big party for New Year’s Eve. We’ve got lots of other holiday stuff planned.”

  I didn’t want to get in an argument with him during my last few hours in Texas. I knew when to give him some space.

  “All right.” I cut the lights as we walked out of the room. The little beach cottage suddenly seemed sad and depressing. I had placed a poinsettia on the coffee table, and had strung up a few lights on the railing, but we opted not to add much since we wouldn’t be together on Christmas Day. Now, I regretted it. Grey needed to know how much fun Christmas could be. Why hadn’t I decorated the cottage like a Christmas wonderland?

  I vowed right then we would never spend Christmas apart again. This would be the first and last time.

  I followed him down the flight of stairs to the parking pad under the house where his truck was parked. We had to drive to the airport in Brownsville. At least I had some time with him before I had to leave. The wind whip
ped off the beach, and I caught my hair in a side ponytail as I climbed into the truck.

  “Are we supposed to get a storm or something?” I hadn’t paid attention to the South Padre weather lately. I was too busy watching the snow report back home. The local meteorologists were calling for five to six inches of fresh powder. I couldn’t wait.

  “Nothing for you to worry about. Your flight will be out of here before it hits the beach.” He buckled his seat belt and put the truck in reverse.

  I watched the blue beach cottage fade in the door’s mirror. This was home now, but I was saying good-bye to it for an entire week. Nothing about this felt right.

  “Eden! Eden!” my parents called out from the other side of the baggage carousel. I had barely enough time to close the cap on my water bottle before they both embraced me in a bear hug.

  “Hi, Mom, Dad.” I squeezed them tightly.

  “How was your flight?” My father looked me up and down. It had been a few months, but I noticed the touches of gray around his ears and in his bangs. My father had always had almost jet-black hair.

  “Good.” How was I supposed to say the entire time I wanted to beg the pilot to turn the plane around and take me back to Texas?

  “Honey, we are so glad you’re home.” My mother gave me an extra squeeze. “Where’s your coat? You need a coat. It’s going to snow tomorrow.”

  It looked as if she had just come from the yoga studio. I could see her tight black pants peeking out from under her long wool coat. Her blond hair hung loosely around her shoulders as if she shook it out from a bun on her way into the airport.

  “I packed it. It’s not exactly cold on the island, and I didn’t want to worry about keeping up with it on the plane.”

  “I’ll get your luggage.” My father walked over to the rotating luggage, wedging himself between passengers.

  “Are you ok?” Mom slung an arm around my shoulder.

  “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” I leaned into her, needing a little motherly support.

  “I know you’re disappointed Grey’s not with you.”

  I shrugged. “We are spending the second half of the holidays together. Besides that, he can’t just up and leave the Palm. We’re getting ready to do an extensive renovation.”

  We walked under a sparkling set of candy canes hanging from one of the airport pillars. “Everyone needs time off from work. I’m just sorry we aren’t going to get to meet him. You do live together. I hoped we would have met him by now.”

  “I know, Mom. Soon. You’ll get to meet him soon. We’ll plan something.” I said it, but didn’t believe it. With the upcoming condo conversion, I had no idea when either of us would have another break again. Mason had started the reconstruction plans as soon as the ink was dry on the contract. That guy didn’t mess around.

  My father appeared triumphantly with my suitcase in hand. “Here it is, pumpkin. You girls ready?”

  We both nodded and followed him out of the airport.

  I hadn’t been home since I drove out of my parents’ driveway in September. I smiled when I saw the candles in the windows and the light-up Santa Claus my father always attached to the front porch. When I was a little girl, I thought that Santa was the most beautiful Christmas decoration on the street. All the neighbors’ houses were decorated with white and colored lights. I sighed. This felt like Christmas.

  “Come on, come on. I have to show you the tree. I’m dying for you to see what I did with it this year.” My mother slid out of the passenger side and jogged up the steps.

  My father gave me a knowing look. “You better go. I’ll get your bags.”

  I walked in the house. All the things I had missed about home hit me as I walked through the door. It was as if all the Christmases in my memory were bundled together and unwrapped in this one instant. Everything was festive and perfect, just like Christmas was supposed to be.

  “In here, Eden. Come see,” Mom called from the living room.

  “Ok, ok. What’s different with the tree this year?” I stopped in the doorway. “Wow, Mom. It’s amazing.” I stepped closer to examine her latest work of art.

  The twinkle lights sparkled all over the tree. All of our family ornaments were on display, but there were new ones. It sparkled from the inside out. There had to be at least fifty glitter snowflakes. Some made from mirror, others coated in a white shimmer.

  “I can’t believe you added all of this. Where did you get the idea?” I circled to the other side, not wanting to miss a single decoration.

  “Oh, it just hit me one morning when I was doing child’s pose. It threw off the rest of my class, because I wanted to get out of the studio and start on the ornaments.” She laughed. “I used crushed glass on most of the snowflakes. I’m hoping we’ll have a white Christmas this year. The tree should get us started.”

  My mother had always been crafty, but this looked like the work of a professional.

  “I think it’s the prettiest tree we’ve had.” I reached for my phone in my back pocket.

  “What are you doing?”

  I stepped back and snapped a photo. “Taking a picture to send to Grey. He has to see this.” I forwarded the picture along with a message.

  Wish you were here to see this in person.

  Seconds later, he wrote back.

  Me too, baby.

  Why don’t you change your mind? Promise you’ll love it.

  I bet I would.

  I sighed. There was no changing his mind once it was made up. That determination could be an amazing characteristic, but right now, it made me sad that we were in different states.

  “How about we get you settled in your room, and I’ll have dinner ready in a few minutes? I bet you’re tired from the trip.”

  “A little.” I shuffled down the hall in search of my old bedroom.

  Other than summer and holiday breaks, I hadn’t spent much time here since I graduated from high school. Pictures from school were on the walls—all the things that I didn’t pack for the Texas move. My mother had even unpacked my childhood tree and placed it on the dresser. It made me think about the tree Grey probably had with Pops. It was good to be home, but my heart hurt more now than when I got on the plane in Brownsville.

  It was only a week. I could do this for a week, right? I watched the lights on my tree change from blue to red to green. Who was I kidding? I was going to be completely miserable as long as Grey and I were apart.

  “Dinner was delicious, Mom. I’ll have to get that recipe from you. Maybe make that casserole for Grey.”

  “Ok. I’ll copy it for you.”

  I watched as she scurried around the kitchen and loaded the dishwasher. My father placed a glass of wine in front of me.

  “Here you go. I’m going to catch the end of the game. Glad you’re here, pumpkin.”

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  I took a sip and settled into the chair. There was only one week until Christmas, and my parents usually packed every night leading up to the holiday with some kind of craft, trip, or activity.

  “So, what are the plans this week?” I asked my mother.

  She slid the casserole dish with leftovers onto the bottom shelf of the refrigerator. “Oh, I thought we could carol with the neighbors tomorrow night. Then Sunday night is the pageant at church. Monday we need to get the ornaments to the hospital.” She paused and pulled a calendar off the wall. “Ok, then that means Tuesday we do cookies so we can deliver them on Wednesday. Thursday is wrapping, and then Friday is Christmas Eve and we’ll get the luminaries ready.”

  “Wow, did you leave us anytime to sleep?” I joked as I sipped on the wine.

  “You know how Christmas is here. Busy, busy. I’ve got three classes this week at the studio, but they are in the morning. You should come with me.”

  I hadn’t done yoga in at least a month. I missed it. “I think I will, but don’t criticize my tree pose.”

  “Wouldn’t dream of it.” She smiled as she returned the calendar to the wall.
“Let’s go see what your father’s team is doing. Playoff season around the holidays always confused me. It’s not really fitting with the holiday spirit, all that extra competition.”

  I giggled and carried my wine into the next room. Some things never change.

  I woke up Saturday morning stretched across my bed, noticing the empty space next to me. The sheets were cool. No note from Grey on the pillow. I frowned then peeled myself from under the covers and decided it was too cold to get out of bed just yet. I pulled my phone off the bedside stand, and sent Grey a text.

  Good morning. Miss you.

  I probably miss you more. It was lonely last night.

  I sighed. What was it going to take to get him to come up here? Mason and his damned condo project could wait another week. I knew Mason wasn’t buried in work. He planned on seeing Taylor over the holidays. She was in the midst of serious holiday scheming where he was concerned. I had never seen my best friend so head over heels in love in all the years I had known her.

  I typed to Grey.

  There’s only one thing I want for Christmas.

  What’s that, pretty girl?

  You.

  I waited. We were within the one-week Christmas window and buying a ticket now would cost a fortune, but for the first time, Grey could afford a small fortune on travel. Mason had bought in for his half of the condo deal. Grey was officially wealthy.

  It seemed like an hour passed before he finally answered.

  I’ll call you later.

  Ugh! I threw the covers off my legs. I wondered if I promised to wrap myself in nothing but a red bow if that would entice him to make the trip. There had to be a way to get him here. I trudged to the bathroom to brush my teeth and start the shower.

 

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