“I guess I did.” He laughed and took a sip of his coffee. “I hope it wasn’t a mistake.”
“Are you friends with this woman?”
“No. I only saw her that one time. We’ve never met officially, but we’re going to today.”
“She lives here? What a coincidence. Well, if I know you, she’s not going to know what hit her.”
Tate cracked his knuckles. “I can’t believe how nervous I am.”
Amanda followed his gaze past the boardwalk. A city bus turned the corner onto the street.
“Shoot. I’ve lost track of time, Aunt Bridgette.” He grabbed his jacket from the bench. “That’s my bus.”
“Don’t forget your tie.” She handed it to him. “Good luck on your interview. We’ll see you tonight for dinner?”
“You bet. I’m picking up my new Jeep later this afternoon. We’ll take it for a spin.”
Amanda watched Tate as he raced for the bus, his coat and tie in hand. She smiled, remembering him piecing on that very same suit while sitting next to her that morning. She had no doubt that she was sitting on that very bus. “Grandpa, he finally found me that day.”
“Yes, he did. And in a way, I think he found himself. You’ve been his inspiration for quite some time.”
“Then why do we fight like we do? Just this week he sabotaged my story—” She paused. “Well, I thought he did.”
“We suspect he’s been a little overwhelmed by the situation and afraid of this inexplicable pull he has to you. We’re sure he didn’t want to come across as a stalker.”
She let her boots sink further into the sand. “Well, I wish he would’ve had the courage to reveal himself a long time ago. We’ve done a lot of fighting this year.”
Bruce reached for her arm. “Shall we?” He guided her slowly down the boardwalk, but it was no longer the familiar wooden walkway.
They were inside a building. “Looks like you have a visitor over there.” He pointed to a red bench where another old man sat, holding a small Christmas tree. A collie lay at his feet.
“Grandpa Turner!” Amanda ran over to the bench.
“Amanda.” Grandpa Jim Turner stood and embraced her. “You gave Betty, Bruce, and me quite the scare. Come sit with me.” He motioned for her to join him on the bench.
The bench was familiar. “I think I sat on this exact same bench just yesterday. Are we at the hospital?”
Both men nodded.
“I met this man named George. We chatted for a bit.” She glanced up at Bruce. “He told me to tell you that he and Mary said hi.”
“Aw, George. He and Mary do such great work for us down there.”
“Down there?” Amanda asked.
“I’m going to leave you two to catch up,” Bruce said and headed into the fog.
Why did her grandparents keep disappearing like that? They’d have to tell her what was going on eventually, wouldn’t they?
She bent down and petted the tan collie. “Is this Charlie? Grandma Turner told the story yesterday all about how you proposed to her with a Christmas tree. Pretty romantic,” she teased.
“Yes, your grandmother could never turn down a good man with a nice trunk,” he chuckled.
She giggled. Her Grandpa Turner had always been a dirty old man. “So I’m going to assume you know Tate, too?”
“Fine young man. A bit of a putz, though.”
“I know, right?” She nodded. Finally, someone who saw Tate like she did. Leaning back on the bench, she looked around. They were definitely on the first floor of the hospital. “Okay, so if we’re going with the Christmas Carol theme, I’ve seen Tate’s and my past. Will you be showing me our present or future?”
Her grandfather stood and motioned for her to follow him. They walked down a long hallway and turned into a white, sterile room. The fog was even inside the hospital, making it difficult to see where they were going. Her grandpa led them to a room and opened the door.
She froze in horror.
Her family and Tate were huddled around a bed. There was a body hooked up to an IV machine. “Oh my God. Is that me in the bed?”
“Afraid so, pumpkin.” Grandpa Turner walked over and placed his hands on her Grandmother Turner’s shoulders. Her grandmother reached up into the air, touching the exact spot where his hands were. “I’ve been practicing that move with her for years. I think she finally senses that I’m always with her.”
Tate sat hunched over, inches from Amanda’s motionless body. He held her limp hand in his. “Jack, Diane, could I have a moment in private with your daughter?” he asked her parents, not taking his eyes off her lifeless body.
“His beautiful blue eyes, they’re so dark,” Amanda muttered. “What happened to me, Grandpa?” Tears were starting to well in her eyes. “Was there an accident? Why am I here?”
“Well, it seems both Tate and you have a propensity to get hit by cars. This time an SUV skidded on a patch of black ice. It hit you very hard, I’m afraid.”
Her eyes widened. “No! Last night? I don’t remember being in an accident.”
She remembered standing in the middle of the road and screaming at Tate. There were also bright lights. “This has to be a dream.” She closed her eyes.
When she opened them, Tate was the only one left in the room with her body. He hadn’t left her side.
He pulled her hand gently to his lips and kissed it. “Well, Ace. What a year it has been since that bus ride.”
“What is he doing? Grandpa, is he saying goodbye to me?”
Tate continued. “I want to thank you. I was floundering, so afraid to finally meet you—and then when I did, I was too afraid to tell you that I loved you. I never thought I was good enough to be in your life. The way I acted when we first met on that cold Christmas Eve night . . . But you saw past my stupidity. You gave me a reason to . . .”
He stopped. Amanda could tell he was choking back tears. “To become the man you knew I’d grow up to be. You were my first kiss. You. Not Melanie. I love you, Amanda.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out his lucky charm. Slipping the shiny rock in her palm, he closed her hand and leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “We will have Christmas dinner together one day.”
Amanda looked down. She couldn’t bear to see him in so much pain. The buff tabby had suddenly appeared and was twisting its fury body through her legs. She gently scooped up the kitty. Her Grandma and Grandpa Thompson had joined them in the hospital room.
She knew in her heart exactly where she was. “My sweet, sweet Sydney,” she said, kissing her cat who had passed away ten years ago. “I’ve missed you so much.”
“She’s missed you, too,” her grandmother said.
“That’s not fog out there, is it?” Amanda asked.
“No, it’s not. They’re clouds,” Grandpa Thompson answered. “We’re way above them.”
“Am I dead?”
Her grandmother put her arm around her. “No, dear. You’re in a coma.”
She sighed and glanced over at her body, hanging on to life. “Am I going to make it?”
A few seconds went past. Her grandmother broke the silence. “Your injuries are pretty severe. We were surprised by the news that you would be visiting us. We got our letter last month saying you would be arriving soon.”
“Letter?”
“That’s how the angels share the news about who will be next to join us. It gives families time to accept what is going to happen and prepare for the imminent arrival of their loved one.”
“Really? What did it say?”
She pulled out a velvet white envelope from her apron and handed it to Amanda.
Amanda gingerly opened the envelope, pulling out the matching velvet white paper.
Silver cursive words stated that Amanda Noel Turner would be arriving on December 24 at 11:42 P.M. The outside of the envelope was addressed to Bruce and Betty Thompson and dated November 24.
“We’ve never received a letter. We were quite shocked to
learn that it was you who would be the first in your family to join us,” Grandpa Thompson said.
“It broke our hearts to read you would be here for Christmas dinner.” Her grandmother touched her arm.
“Christmas dinner,” she repeated. Her eyes rested on the rock Tate had placed in her dying body’s hand. Tate’s special rock that now read Xmas Dinner.
This connection to him, and his link to her mortality, was just too much for her to take. “I’ve missed all of you so much.” She took a few seconds to look in the eyes of each grandparent. “But I don’t think I can stay for Christmas dinner. Not this year.”
Grandmother Thompson was the first to speak. “We know. We thought your stay would be permanent, but as you can see . . .” She motioned to the bed. “You’re quite the fighter.”
“Fighter? Is this the present or future? How long have I been in a coma?”
“Three weeks.”
“Three weeks,” Amanda repeated. This had to be so painful for Tate and her family. She snapped back into the moment. “What do I do? How do I change this?”
“Your fate will take you back to where you belong. You’ll open your eyes soon and you will go back to your family.”
Her grandmother gave Amanda a gentle squeeze and placed her hand on Amanda’s stomach. “You’ll go back and start your own family,” she whispered into hear ear.
Amanda raised an eyebrow. “My family?” She instinctively reached down and touched her stomach. She couldn’t be—could she?
“Hey, you can’t see everything that goes on down there, can you?”
Grandpa Turner gave a hearty chuckle. “Nah, we only see what the big guy in charge wants us to see.”
Amanda felt her cheeks redden, thinking about the shower tryst with Tate. “Good,” she stammered, “I mean, Tate and I have had some doozy fights. I wouldn’t want you to see us acting like children.”
Grandma Thompson squeezed her shoulders. “You ready to go home?”
Amanda blinked back tears. She’d miss her grandparents, but now was not her time. “Yes, I am.”
She walked over to Tate and sat on the edge of the bed. She hoped he could feel her ghostly presence just like her Grandma Turner had felt her granddad’s.
“Tate, I’ve been wrong about so many things. I know everything now, and I understand. I’m so in love with you.” Amanda watched as Tate got up and walked toward the door. Her heart sank. He couldn’t be leaving.
“Don’t you give up on me, Tate Ryan!” she shouted. “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me who is the better kisser—me or Melanie!” She watched in horror as he walked out the door.
“He couldn’t feel my presence,” she said. “What do I do now? How do I stop this?”
Her grandmother grabbed Amanda’s hand. “All you need to do is open your eyes. We’ll have dinner waiting for when it’s the right time for you to come back. A nice lasagna.” With that, she scooped up the little feline from the floor.
“Goodbye, Amanda,” her grandparents said in unison.
She watched as the three elderly figures disappeared into the white clouds.
“Goodbye,” she said softly. It was comforting to know her deceased grandparents were always watching over her.
She stood over the bed and stared at her lifeless body. What should she do? Open your eyes. The words from Lacy, George, and both her grandmothers echoed in her head.
Praying seemed like the appropriate thing to do. If there was any chance a prayer would be answered, the odds had to be in her favor up here. She hopped onto the bed and began to lie on top of the body. Her body.
She felt a strange sensation as if she were merging with the lifeless figure. “Open your eyes, Amanda,” she chanted over and over, determined to finally do what everyone had advised her to do all along.
She finally understood what they meant.
EPILOGUE
One Year Later
Today was the day and tonight was the night that Tate Ryan would finally do it. He would get down on one knee and ask the woman he loved to spend the rest of her life with him as his wife.
His hands were slightly trembling as he opened the blue box. He examined its sparkling contents one last time then gently shut the lid. So much had happened this year. This Christmas, he was looking forward to starting a new chapter with the woman he loved.
Amanda stormed into his office and slammed his door. “We need to talk.”
“Hey, Ace, what’s wrong?” He’d thought the days of slammed doors and narrowed eyes were behind them, but glancing at the now crooked clock above his door, apparently they weren’t. “Everything okay?”
Amanda placed both her hands on his desk and leaned forward.
“I gather not.” He put the tiny box back in his pocket.
“I cannot believe you told Melanie she was a better kisser.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Alex said that Brenda told him that Brad said—”
“Stop.” He paused and then laughed. “I know what you’re doing. You want me to admit that you’re a better kisser. You know I don’t kiss and tell.”
“Why won’t you just admit it?” She glanced up at the clock and flew out the door. “This conversation is not over.”
“It never is with you,” he called out. He was fast on her heels, fiddling with a deep red tie that matched her festive red suit perfectly. He loved it when she wore red. It accentuated everything he loved about her.
They walked into the studio. “You’re a jerk.” She took her seat and smoothed her hair.
“But you still love me.” He took his seat next to her.
“Do not.”
“Oh, I think you do.”
“You love birds at it again?” asked Ernie, aiming the camera toward them.
“Hey, I have something for you.” Tate got up from his stool and reached deep into his pants’ pocket.
Amanda put her hand up in protest. “Don’t care. Don’t want it.”
“You’ll want this, Ace. Trust me.”
“I don’t want your stupid rock with its silly Xmas Dinner saying. Keep it in your pocket because you are going to need all the luck you can get,” she warned.
Her twinkling green eyes and devilish grin were dead giveaways that she was really enjoying this banter. “You’re on diaper duty from this day forward.”
Tate laughed and leaned over, placing the robin-egg blue box in front of her. They had decided to wait to get married until Amanda fully recovered from her surgery and extensive doctor visits after the car accident last Christmas Eve. They also wanted to concentrate on her pregnancy—an unexpected gift from that night.
Now that mother and baby, Nicholas, were both fine, there was one thing left for him to do—and given their history, the Christmas season was the perfect time to do it. He realized he wasn’t on bended knee, but it somehow seemed right to do it now.
“Open it,” he said.
“Fine.” She slowly opened the box that revealed a sparkling diamond ring. She lifted it out and read the inscription inside. “Eggnog,” she said softly.
He could see tears forming in her eyes and knew it was the perfect word that bound them from their first kiss on that Christmas Eve when they were kids until today.
“Tate, it’s perfect.”
“Who knew that stupid boy would turn out to be your soul mate?”
She laughed. “My grandparents did.” She looked up at the ceiling and mouthed the words, “Thank you.”
“Marry me, Ace.” Tate held his breath for the answer.
“And three, two, one.” Ernie signaled.
“Good evening, Wilmington. I’m Tate Ryan.”
Amanda placed the engagement ring on her finger, holding her hand out to admire its perfect fit. “And I’m . . . um . . .” The teleprompter wasn’t jammed, but her answer wasn’t on it either. He knew she had this.
“And I’m going to be Amanda Ryan.” She winked at Tate while showing off her ring to the camer
a. “Your five o’clock news starts right now. Thanks for joining us.”
More from This Author
(From Destination Wedding by Robyn Neeley)
“I do. I do.” Wedding planner Kate Ashby quietly repeated her calming mantra. Paralyzed in her window seat, she stared at the illuminated fasten seatbelt sign while her hands gripped the metal buckle strap.
Please turn off. Please turn off. They had to be close to cruising altitude. Soon, she’d be able to request a strong drink to knock her out for the duration of this bumpy flight.
She sat still, trying to ignore the terror pulsating through her. Why hadn’t she bought sleeping pills before boarding a twelve-hour flight from New York City to Hawaii? Now, that would have been the smart thing to do.
Glancing out the tiny passenger window, she clutched her gold “K” necklace. It was completely irrational to be terrified and she realized the odds of her and her fellow passengers landing safely in Honolulu were more than in her favor. Still, this was her first time flying such a long duration. Departing Manhattan this evening in turbulent thunderstorms had shot her nerves. She was grateful that her boss had sprung for a first class ticket for the long flight.
A loud rattle caused her to grab hold to her armrests. “What was that?” She turned to the stranger sitting next to her. He had short blondish brown hair and was wearing a blue blazer. His face had a nice tan. She had failed to realize that her row mate was incredibly handsome. Usually the person sitting next to her was a grandparent or couldn’t speak English. Perhaps he could help her ease her nerves?
“Um … I think it’s the drink cart. Would you like something?” He folded his Wall Street Journal.
Sexy and smart.
“I’ll take a tequila and tonic,” he said to the flight attendant.
And likes his drinks strong. This could be fun.
She ran her hand along the fabric of her hem, praising herself silently for choosing to wear her white sheath dress and matching jacket. It oozed confidence with each expensive thread. At this point in her career, she had no business wearing such a costly outfit. Although she’d be making partner soon and needed to start dressing the part, at least that’s how she rationalized the purchase. It certainly was the perfect outfit for a chance encounter with a handsome businessman.
Christmas Dinner (Crimson Romance) Page 16