Twelve Nights

by Sharon Struth

  Beryl rose from the bedside, turned up the heat, and took a steamy shower. After a quick breakfast, she tossed on yoga pants and an oversized sweatshirt and went to the dining-area table to resume last night’s work on her latest book.

  Only she couldn’t concentrate. Andy Williams sang uplifting words about the most wonderful time of the year, making her wish she possessed one-tenth his happiness over the season. The provocative dream still tantalized, making her yearn for what she and Erik once had shared. Sadness over selling her childhood home loomed overhead like a dark cloud.

  Every choice she’d made in her life suddenly didn’t seem so perfect or so right, more like reactions to circumstance. The mad rush to leave Northbridge. Anger at Erik for accepting the London offer, and then walking out on him. Even interviewing for the job in Chicago was more an impulse reaction to the idea she might get fired at Global, not a real desire to start over again at another firm in an unfamiliar city. Maybe she needed to explore more options, but what?

  She stared at the comfortable overstuffed furniture and light blond wood tables in her living room, suddenly realizing she hadn’t done one bit of decorating for Christmas yet. She stood and walked over to her picture window. A gentle gray sky threatened snow. Down below on the sidewalk, a man dragged a small pine tree behind him. The church two blocks away sold them every year as a fundraiser. Maybe after lunch, she could head over there to buy a tree.

  The idea alone boosted her spirits, even though it didn’t solve any of her problems.

  * * * *

  Despite the air’s chill, the outdoor vendor stands at the market were fairly well attended by shoppers bundled in thick jackets, scarves, and gloves. Erik handed his credit card to a merchant and tucked away the antique pins he’d purchased as gifts for his mother and sisters in the front pocket of his backpack.

  Proximity to those he loved was a bonus of taking this job. He always made it to his parents’ home for Christmas Eve, no matter what country he was living in at the time. Since Mom and Dad were born in Sweden, they always celebrated the night with more fanfare than they did the next day and kept up their tree until the Epiphany, January sixth, a national holiday in their native country.

  While waiting for his credit card to be returned, he glanced at an aged-pewter bracelet. Charms representing the “Twelve Days of Christmas” were spaced evenly across the chain, each one separated by a plum-colored glass bead.

  He smiled, remembering his first Christmas with Beryl. He’d wracked his brain trying to come up with a way to make their first holiday special, and ended up with an idea based on his family’s extended European-type celebration, ending in early January.

  On Christmas, as they crawled into bed after a day spent with family, he’d handed her a present.

  “Here, you’ve got one more gift to open.”

  He’d handed her the box. Erik still remembered the little-girl joy in her beautiful face as she lifted the heart and key necklace he’d gone to five different jewelers to find.

  “On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave go me,” she’d read from the note inside the box. “A necklace with a heart key.” And then she had looked at him, no more little-girl joy, but the love of a woman. “Thank you, Erik. I’ll treasure this. Always.”

  The next night, while she brushed her teeth before bed, he’d placed another gift on her pillow. A few minutes later, she’d walked to the bed undoing the ties on her robe while he slipped between the sheets.

  Her gaze had dropped to the pillow, her smile bright at as a Christmas star. “Another one?”

  “Open it.”

  As she’d torn open the wrapping, she kept glancing at him, a shine in her eyes that made his heart bloom. The package held the leather gloves she’d been admiring while they were Christmas shopping two weeks earlier, which she had reluctantly returned to the shelf, saying they were out of her budget.

  She’d pulled them out, stretched the soft leather over her slender fingers. “Oh my God, you remembered.” After slowly taking out the note, she’d unfolded it and read, “On the second day of Christmas, my true love gave to me, two matching gloves. . . .” A wide, happy beam stretched across her face and she’d sung, “And a necklace with a heart key.”

  Then she’d shimmied across the bed to where he watched and kissed him once, twice, many times, until she finally ended up beneath the covers and in his arms.

  On it went, every night, for twelve nights. Sometimes she’d go to sleep, and around midnight, he’d tiptoe to her side of the bed and position the gift near her clock for her to find upon waking. Other nights, he’d casually slip it across the dinner table while they ate. Twelve keepsakes to show her the depth of his love.

  The love he once carried in his heart for her unexpectedly returned and made his pulse race, rushing him like a drug, leaving him intoxicated and deliriously happy. Even with the ups and downs between them, her presence these past days chipped away at an armor he’d worn for years, one that helped keep work his number one priority. Only, at this moment, what bubbled inside him waited to get out.

  Erik placed the symbolic bracelet in his palm, ran his chilly finger along the smooth beads.

  “Sir. Here’s your card.” The vendor leaned across the display table, credit card in his fingertips.

  Erik hesitated only a second before handing him the piece of jewelry. “Can you ring this up, too?”

  When his purchases were tucked safely in his backpack, Erik wandered by a few more vendor booths. The towering limestone facade of the Metropolitan Museum of Art came into view. The same building that had kicked off the start to his new life in Manhattan. He crossed Fifth Avenue, considering a trip inside the building to enjoy its many exhibits. Only an invisible force dragged him past the entrance and into Central Park. The same path he’d taken the day he ran into Beryl while jogging.

  Erik walked, looking in all directions and hoping to catch a glimpse of her again. The energy in his steps not about the crisp winter day, but driven by a deeper mission. He passed a pond, ball fields surrounded by bare trees, and didn’t stop until he stood on Central Park West, facing the Museum of Natural History. He gathered his bearings, trying to figure out the way to Beryl’s apartment based on the address the cab had taken them to after her accident.

  Cold air blasted his cheeks, making him consider a possible icy greeting if he showed up unannounced at her door. Still, finding that charm bracelet today, his sister’s remarks . . . all were signs he needed to continue. He walked south, past the museum, and kept going until he spotted her street.

  Determination pushed him forward. He wanted Beryl back. Not a one-night stand, not as a friend, but in a relationship. Her presence as part of his life felt right as anything he’d ever pursued. She made his rusty heart come alive.

  Fast snow flurries started to fall, landing on the cold ground like a dusting of powdered sugar. He rewrapped his scarf around his neck and kept moving forward. Passing a hot dog stand, Erik inhaled the familiar scent and stopped. He purchased one and lowered himself onto a stoop outside a four-story brownstone apartment building to eat. Slow down, dummy. Think this through. Impulsive moves seemed to be his downfall when it came to her.

  He enjoyed the goings-on of the residential neighborhood and ate his hot dog. A man across the street rang a handbell, trying to draw pedestrians into a church lot filled with evergreens. Above the entrance was a sign reading St. Peter’s Annual Christmas Tree Sale. Erik had been so busy unpacking boxes and working, he hadn’t even considered decorating his place.

  Just as he finished his food, a young couple wandered into the church lot. He watched them stop at a tree near the entrance and drew in a breath when he spotted Beryl standing nearby. A helper handed her change. She tucked it in her pocket, smiled, and talked to him for a minute. Erik stood, resisting the urge to scream her name and run across the street.

  She grabbed the pine tree’s stump and headed for the sidewalk. After passing
a few brownstones, the branches bumped a fire hydrant, and the tree slipped from her hand. She circled it, presumably considering how best to get it home. Furrowed brows. Strong posture. She glared at that tree like it had better not dare give her a hard time.

  He hurried along the sidewalk into an onslaught of snow flurries, crossing the street when he got closer to where she stood.

  “Want a hand?”

  She glanced up, her eyes wide beneath the brim of a thick knit hat with a pom-pom on the top. “You’re in more places than Waldo.” She grinned. “Either that, or you’re stalking me.”

  He chuckled. “Maybe I came all this way just to help you with that tree.”

  “Do I seem that gullible?”

  “I’d never call you gullible. Want the truth?”

  “Always.” She plopped her hands on the hips of her parka.

  “I was walking through the park and ended up on this side of town. Close enough to stop by and visit you.”

  “Visit me?” Her ivory cheeks and the tip of her pert nose carried a rosy glow from the icy air. “Why?

  “Because I wanted to see an old friend.”

  “We were more than friends, Erik.”

  “I know.” He softened his voice, hoping the sincerity of his word came across. “I just wanted to see you. Our last conversation at the office, I didn’t fully explain about those rumors. I didn’t know you were CFO when I considered refilling that position.”

  She shrugged one shoulder. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

  “No. It’s just to say I’ve made some bad choices along the way. With everything in front of me right now, I’m rethinking a great deal of my mistakes.” He took a step closer. “I wouldn’t want you to think that I’d give so little consideration to you. To your career.”

  She studied him. Not angry. A calm assessment. Flurries danced around her beautiful face, and one landed on her eyelash. She blinked it away as her hands slipped off her hips. A slow smile crossed her lips. “Which one of us is going to lift this thing?”

  He leaned over, grabbed the tree base, and hoisted it over his shoulder. “Ready when you are.”

  “Follow me, Paul Bunyan.”

  They talked along the way. About living in the city. About a restaurant she loved that they passed by. Not about work. Erik enjoyed the unanticipated moment, one that reminded him of a time in his life when he’d been truly happy and at peace.

  Chapter 9

  On the ninth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me—

  Nine dates romancing. . . .

  “You still have this guy?” Erik stood near the brightly lit tree and held up a glass Santa ornament, the glitter around the fringe of his jacket nearly gone.

  “He’s a little dated, but we go way back.” Beryl walked over to Erik. “I got him at a tag sale for the tree in my first apartment after college. Bet now he’d sell for big bucks at a vintage store.”

  Their hands brushed as she took it from him, and his steel-blue eyes bore through hers, stealing a little of her breath.

  She stretched on tiptoes and looped the metal hook over a sturdy branch, aware of how closely he stood behind her. “Thanks for helping me today.” She turned and faced him. He scoured her with longing, sending a brushfire of heat along her cheeks.

  “My pleasure.” Erik’s intent stare didn’t waiver, but finally he gave her a sweet smile and moved to the decoration box. He pushed up the sleeves on his thin V-necked sweater and lifted a wooden toy soldier dangling from a hook from the container. “I remember this one, too.”

  She smiled, the journey found in the annual decorating tradition always nostalgic, but even more enjoyable with someone who once shared her past.

  The air between them was familiar and easy. More relaxed than at the office. Erik dressed in faded jeans, not his power suit. Right now, it seemed like time went back to a moment when they were happy, in love, and anticipating a life together.

  “Want to see the Christmas gifts I bought for my mom and sisters today?”

  “Sure.”

  He went to his backpack and removed a tissue-paper-wrapped package. “I found them at a great street-vendor fair.” He walked toward her, undoing the paper, and displaying in his palm four gold, antique-looking broaches, each with a different scrolled design and a pearl in the center. “How’d I do?” He studied her with an expectant expression.

  “They’re perfect. You’ve always had a knack for picking out just the right gifts. It’s exactly the kind of thing all of them will love.”

  He smiled, a satisfied smile that wound around her heart. He folded the tissue paper, but hesitated before walking away. “Glad you think so.”

  Whatever made him pause, it passed. He put away the gifts and went back to the box of remaining decorations.

  “Just a few more things to hang.” His attention focused on the box contents.

  “That went fast.”

  Outside the picture window, snowy skies thinned into darkness. Other than a light streaming from the kitchen, soft golden tree lights brightened the dark room. She picked up her wineglass and walked to the window. Snow danced in a beam coming from a spotlight on the building across the street, the white crystals mounting on the sidewalks below. A long sip of her drink sent a warm rush through her chest and soothed her inner soul. There was so much comfort surrounding her right now that happiness bubbled inside her, especially from the company. She shut her eyes and relived how it felt each time Erik glanced her way with familiar desire.

  “Hungry? I was thinking if there was a place nearby, we could get dinner.”

  She opened her eyes and turned to face him. “I am. I planned to get takeout tonight. There’s a place a few blocks over that delivers.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “Let me get the menu.” As she passed him on the way to the kitchen, she grinned. “So, no blind date this weekend?”

  His eyebrows squished together, but then laughed. “How’d you know?”

  “I heard Samir asking you about it while I waited outside your office the other night.”

  “I had no idea his wife invited someone.” He went back to box. “She was nice, but not my type.”

  Beryl rummaged through a drawer for the menu, more relieved over his response than she’d expected.

  “Well, I’ll be,” he said quietly. Erik held something in his hands.

  Beryl walked over. When she spotted the ornament in his palm, a lump swelled in her throat.

  “I can’t believe you saved this.” He stared at the ornament he’d given her after they’d moved in together.

  She’d forgotten it was in the box because, even though she’d kept it, she hadn’t hung it on a tree since their last Christmas together.

  Inside a ball-shaped glass ornament, white sand mimicking snow rested on the bottom. Scattered in the fake snow was a teeny carrot nose, fake coal eyes, and round jacket buttons of a melted snowman. Silver lettering on the outside read, I melt when you’re near me.

  He extended his hand. “Please. You can have the honors.”

  She took it, stepped to the tree, and added it to an eye-level branch. He moved behind her, the gentle sound of his breath and spicy cologne rushing her senses. The day he had given her the ornament, he also stood behind her as she placed it on a branch. Only that time, his hands had roamed her hips, and his warm breath had brushed the back of her neck as he placed tender kisses along her nape.

  Erik’s voice fell near her ear. “Why’d you save that?”

  “It was a special time in my life.” She turned and found him close. “What I’d believed was the start of my future. My better senses told me to toss the ornament, but for some reason I couldn’t.”

  “You should’ve hated me. I did a horrible thing.”

  She shrugged. “I didn’t make the decision easy for you, either.”

  Erik surprised her when he reached up and touched her cheek gently, and his eyes sof
tened with a slight smile. “When I saw you at the gala the night Saul made the announcement. . . God, it took me back. I couldn’t believe my ambition owned me so much that I gave up what we once had.”

  “I think it turned into a battle of wits. We’re both headstrong. Determined. A deadly combination for compromise.”

  “Too young to consider our entire lives, only momentary gains.” The smile disappeared and he averted his gaze to the floor, shook his head.

  “Yes. It’s all I think about lately.”

  He lifted his chin. “You, too?” Erik swooped her hands into his. “I know you don’t remember our kiss in the park, but since it happened, all I can think about is how good it feels to be near you again.”

  She laughed, a bitter chortle. “Aren’t you about to fire me?”

  “That’s not true. Not entirely.” He closed his eyes for a few seconds as a pained expression crossed his face. He reopened them, but the agony didn’t fade. “How can I? You’re so damn good. Better than the guy I planned to bring in.”

  “Matt, at the Holder Group?”

  “How’d you—”

  “Your old boss suspects you might take him.”

  “Do you really want that job in Chicago?”

  She looked away to the tree they’d just decorated. Why couldn’t everything she and Erik did together be as uncomplicated as this beautiful symbol of the season? “Leaving isn’t my first choice.”

  He lifted her hand and brushed his lips to her fingertips. She met his gaze. The tree’s lights glistened in his eyes, now smoky with lust. Before she could blink, he drew her close and kissed her. Over and over. Each tender caress of his lips made heat spread through her body. He gathered her in his strong arms, pressing her close. She moved her lips to his throat, then behind his ear, places she once knew a simple stroke of her lips stirred his need. Beryl slipped her hands beneath his sweater and enjoyed the muscular plane of his back. They kissed and touched. Physical contact erased the passage of time, adding burning urgency to the need they shared for each other.