A Girl Worth Waiting For (The Worthy Series Book 1)

by S. M. Smith

  The microphone starts to hum so I snuggle into Daphne’s extra-large lounger ready to watch the show. Stephen starts to sit down beside me, but stops and turns around.

  “I think I want some more egg nog and fudge. Would you like anything?” he asks.

  “Sure, grab me some carrots and a sugar cookie. Oh, and a piece of strawberry fudge.” He starts to walk away, but then I realize my cup is almost empty. “Oh! Wait.”

  He had just taken a step and has to turn around, with fake annoyance on his face. I hold my cup out to him and flash him my best appreciative smile. He shakes his head at me, but takes my cup anyway.

  Jason is up in his hideous sweater, singing “Let it Snow” and it is obvious that he has been enjoying Daphne’s special nog. He’s just about done with the song when Stephen returns with his arms full of goodies. After handing me mine, he sits on the arm of the chair with his back to the wall.

  “How many times do you think we’ll hear ‘Santa Claus is Coming to Town’ tonight?” he asks as Jason hands off the microphone to a man from Daphne’s spin class who’s going to sing “The Christmas Song”.

  “Daph put a three song limit on it this year. She said after the third time she’s likely to have nightmares of some creepy guy watching her all night,” I relay and nearly cause Stephen to spray egg nog through his nose.

  “Wow. Well remind me to thank her later,” he says after he catches his breath again.

  I inspect everyone’s sweaters as they walk by or get up on stage and am trying to decide who I’m going to vote for. At some point, Stephen snuggles down beside me, putting an arm around me and pulling my legs up and over his lap so we can both fit in the seat. It doesn’t take long for three people to sing “Santa Claus is coming to Town” and Daphne’s pretty prompt to announce that no one else will be singing it tonight.

  After a while I know I need to get up and stretch so I climb out of my comfy spot next to Stephen. I pick up both our cups and make my way back to the kitchen for refills. I have just gotten snuggled back into my spot when mine and Stephen’s names are called to sing. I haven’t had enough egg nog to want to sing yet, so I down my fresh cup and drag my feet getting to the stage. Shelby, who has clearly had enough egg nog already, starts chanting my name over and over while Stephen and I get settled in front of the screen. I suddenly remember I don’t know what we are supposed to be singing.

  “Alright, everybody give it up for Jessie and Stephen singing ‘Baby, It’s Cold Outside’!” Daphne announces, winking at me.

  “I’m not sure if I know all the words!” I try to whisper to Stephen.

  “That’s why there is a screen with them on it,” he tells me sarcastically as the music starts.

  I do my best to read the lyrics and stay in tune, but Stephen starts to show off by entertaining the crowd. He pulls me in to dance with him while signing and I have to squirm in his arms to be able to read the screen. We make it through the song, although I laugh through the last “Baby, it’s cold outside” because Stephen ends our little dance number by dipping me back so that I have to read the screen upside down. When he pulls me back up, I catch a glimpse of Daphne who is watching us with this slightly smug smile reminding me what she said about Stephen doing just about anything to make me smile.

  She moves on quickly though to announce the next singer and reminds everyone that the ballots for the contest are due in five minutes. So I shrug off the thought as Stephen and I walk back through the cheering crowd to our seat. I pick up my cup to take a drink, but remember I downed it already, so I get up to get some water. I don’t realize he has followed me until I turn back around from getting water from the faucet.

  “That was fun. Want to get our photos taken in the booth?” he asks.

  “Why not.” I smile at him as he reaches for my hand. I let him take it but feel the nerves respond to the touch of his hand. It sends a warm sensation up my arm. I’m relieved when he lets go as we climb behind the black curtain.

  We dig through the prop box and I find a tiara and a glittery purple masquerade mask on a stick. He takes up a top hat that is too small for his head and a mustache on a stick. We snap a cold, serious face, a silly face, a duck face, then without warning, he turns and kisses my cheek, leaving me with a slightly shocked face. We step out and wait for the printer to print out our pictures and I try to distract myself from having to talk to him by feigning interest in the singer on stage.

  I’m starting to get confused about a few things right now, and being near him isn’t helping me to clear my head. All his presence is doing is reminding me that the man I’m supposed to be in a relationship with isn’t here, making me feel guilty about all the little comfortable things that I have been allowing. I shouldn’t be holding someone else’s hand, or dancing with someone else, or practically sitting in someone else’s lap even.

  “I need some food in my system. This nog is starting to get to me,” I tell Stephen, after a quick inspection of our photos. He nods and sits back down in our spot.

  Once in the kitchen, I prop myself up against a counter and just chill. I feel some guilt fade away, having created some space in between Stephen and me. A few different people come in and we chitchat about the snacks or about if they are having fun. I must have been gone longer than I thought because Stephen comes in looking for me.

  “Hey, you. Everything okay?” he asks as he pours himself another egg nog.

  “Yeah. Just thought I’d check on things in here, making sure we aren’t running out of anything while I was here and got sidetracked by a few people,” I reply as he walks over and leans up against the counter next to me.

  We just stand there for a few minutes, not really saying anything. Daphne announces over the hum of the partiers that this will be the last song before she announces the winners of this year’s contest and the Dirty Santa game. I do another sweep of the snack table, rearranging goodies that are left to keep my hands busy.

  Before I know it, Stephen is there with his arms around me pulling me to face him. He holds my waist in his hands as he looks up. I follow his gaze to find that Daphne has strategically hung mistletoe from the ceiling in the exact spot that we are standing. When I look back at Stephen, he’s already staring at me. He leans in for the kiss and everything stops when his lips touch mine.

  He’s gentle, but firm as he pulls a little at my bottom lip. At that point, I can’t hear anything over the pounding of my heart. But I taste the remnants of rum from the egg nog on his lips and feel the weight of his hands on my hips when he gently pulls back. It takes me a minute to open my eyes and when I do, he’s gone. I’m left standing breathless at the table when Daphne comes around the corner.

  “You alright?” she asks, eyeing me suspiciously.

  I can’t form words at this point so I just nod my head and head back into the living room. He’s not at our chair so I sit down and stare straight ahead. When Daphne comes back in the room, she gives me a curious look but doesn’t say anything.

  I don’t really hear the announcements of the winners, but I do see the couple with the yellow snowman sweaters get up to accept their award. My head is reeling and I can’t slow a thought down. What did this mean? Why is he kissing me? Is what Daphne said true? Is he secretly in love with me? Or is he just tipsy on egg nog? Part of me wants to believe he’s just drunk, but another part of me says that if he is truly drunk, his kiss wouldn’t have been so…..perfect. And the latter half of me doesn’t want him to be drunk either, it wants him to kiss me again. And that’s scaring me.

  I don’t really remember drawing a number for the gift exchange, but I did. So when my number is called up, I randomly grab a small box. I’m still too distracted to keep up with who got what and seeing if I wanted to steal their gifts. The gift I unwrap is a beautifully decorated, espresso colored picture frame with a few faux pearl accents and an antique white paper flower glued to the corner. It was gorgeous and I don’t want to swap it for anything.

  I sit back in my seat
and watch others open their gifts, trying to decide if they want to steal someone else’s. I can’t help but think about the tennis bracelet that now lays in my safe at home from the man I’m in a relationship with. His gift is supposed to be special to me, but this simple picture frame is more practical a gift for me, even though I’ve received it by complete chance. I haven’t even looked to see who had made it. I pick up the paper from the floor and find the tag.

  I look up as Daphne is handing the last gift out and can’t believe where my gift has come from. Is this supposed to be some sort of sign? I sit with my thoughts, barely hearing Daphne when she announces that Dirty Santa is over and everyone has their gifts. I don’t see who got my coffee mug, but I don’t really care.

  I’m in complete shock, going over everything that has happened in the last few weeks as I walk to the kitchen to help retrieve trash bags for all the wrapping paper all over the living room. Between the first few failed dates with Caleb, to what Daphne said about Stephen, to Caleb’s and my first kiss and the following fight. Now I have a new kiss fresh in my mind, and I’m not sure how to take it. Then by a complete act of God, I randomly pick up a gift that was handmade by Stephen, and before I even realize it’s from him, think about how much more perfect it is for me than the one my boyfriend gave me. The boyfriend who isn’t here. The boyfriend who has given me reason to doubt his faithfulness to me. The boyfriend I really like and am getting comfortable with.

  Dear God, I’m so confused right now. I could really use your help right now.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Thanks to some rum laced egg nog and a certain couple of guys, I toss and turn and toss some more and successfully manage to get myself up well before 5 a.m. Since I know I’m not going to go back to sleep, I shower and change into a comfy pair of jeans and my favorite Mizzou t-shirt and hoodie. I pull my hair back as I grab a granola bar and scarf it down with a quick glass of milk, before bundling up to load my car with my gifts for my dad, my overnight bag and some baked goodies I had set aside for us to enjoy over our Christmas Eve night.

  Even though today is Sunday and Christmas Eve, the church isn’t going to have morning service today. Instead we will have a candle lit service in the evening as a whole church instead of the two separate services we would normally have. The sanctuary is likely to be packed tonight, but it will feel like home, which is something I could really use right now.

  It’s a subzero morning, but the drive to my dad’s farm is pretty peaceful. The morning sky is starting to brighten up, though the sun isn’t peeking out from behind the clouds yet. The sky is a lazy gray, letting a hint of snowflakes flutter down every once in a while. The radio DJ says we are likely to see snow by tomorrow and I can’t remember the last time we truly had a white Christmas. When he plays “Winter Wonderland” next, my heart and body melt into the seat of my car as I roll down the highway.

  Given that he had the morning off, I’m afraid I will wake my dad when I pull in a little before seven. Hoping to sneak in quietly, I pull up to the side of the house and make my way to the back door. Opening the door is awkward to say the least, since I grabbed everything out of the car and am now trying to carry it all at once. I open the old creaky, wooden door and try not to let it slam behind me. I’m confident my awkwardness is going to wake him, causing him to come storming in to what he’s going to be sure is some intruder only to find his daughter trying to squeeze a few big boxes, her luggage and a couple of Tupperware bowls through the old farm wood door all at once.

  “Want some help with that?” I’m pretty sure I jump five feet into the air, almost dropping the Tupperware when I hear my dad’s voice. Fortunately, he is right here to lend a hand, catching the bowls before they hit the floor.

  “Thanks. What are you doing up so early?” I ask as I set some stuff on the kitchen table so I can shut the door and stop the cold air from invading the toasty kitchen.

  “Chores. It looks like it’s going to snow tonight and I don’t think we’ll have enough time after church to get everyone fed before they all take shelter. Since you’re here, would you mind helping your dear ol’ dad out?”

  “Sure. Let me put this stuff away and grab my boots.” It has been a long time since I have helped prepare the farm for a snow, and even though it is tiring work, I welcome the distraction. I put my gifts under the tree and my bag in my room. I pull my boots from where they reside in the laundry room and meet my dad back in the kitchen. He peeks up at me with a cookie in his hand, caught red-handed, and a cup of coffee in the other.

  “Coffee’s ready if you want some.” He gives me a guilty smile as he holds up his cup.

  “I see. Isn’t it a little early for sweets?” I ask as I pull a to-go mug out of the cabinet.

  “Life’s uncertain.” He shrugs and I can’t help but laugh at his philosophy on eating desserts. I get my coffee and doctor it up with plenty of sugar and milk and pull my coat and head wrap back on.

  We step out into the cold and I dive right into chores, feeding the cows and checking the chicken coop lights. We make our way to the stables and Dad feeds the horses as I sweep out the stalls and lay fresh hay out for them all. I stop by Sadie’s stall and pick up her brush.

  There’s something so calming about brushing a horse. I feel all the little strings of worry slip away as I run the bristles down Sadie’s back. If Mom were still here, she would recognize that something is bothering me just by watching me do my chores and would have a glass of sweet tea waiting for me when I got done so that we could sit and talk. She was wonderfully perceptive like that. But she isn’t here and I don’t have her to tell me what to do. So when I finish brushing Sadie, all that worry just follows me back to the house.

  Although it is close to eleven when we finish our chores, Dad cooks us a hearty breakfast of eggs, sausage and toast that fill my belly enough to make me sleepy. We don’t talk much during breakfast, and honestly that is okay with me. Dad isn’t very good at girl talk and I’m not sure what exactly to say should he ask. So I’m thankful that we can enjoy this meal quietly together.

  As soon as we finish cleaning up the kitchen, I curl up on the couch, pulling a soft, New Orleans Saints blanket up around my shoulders. The Christmas tree sparkles in the morning light and I can’t help but feel warm and safe. Dad follows me into the living room a little while later and puts on a Christmas album as he curls into his recliner and picks up a book. Glad to be here with my dad and a thousand miles away from all my guy problems, I finally let myself fall into a peaceful sleep.

  ***

  “Jessie, you need to get up and start getting ready.” Dad shakes me awake.

  I stretch and check the time. I have just enough time to get ready, so I make my way upstairs to shower and get dressed. The bathroom steams up almost immediately. As I stand there, letting the warm water lull me back to sleep, reality hits me. Stephen will inevitably be at church and we will have to face what happened last night.

  All of a sudden the water is too hot and I’m ready to be done with my shower. I wash up quickly and step out within a few minutes. I have to wipe condensation off my mirror to get a good look at myself and I see terror. What am I so worried about? Oh you know, the fact that I kissed a guy who isn’t my boyfriend last night. Oh, and said guy just happens to be my best friend in the whole world, who coincidentally also happens to be like family to me. And this is a big deal because….? Because, as much as I enjoyed his kiss, I don’t want to lose my best friend. And regardless of however he is going to explain his actions, I know in the deep depths of my heart that that kiss has already changed our relationship. It can never be what it was again…

  I finally pull myself away from the mirror to get dressed. I have to come back when it’s time to do my hair and makeup, but I’m careful not to look myself in the eyes for fear that I’ll start analyzing what is really happening and make myself cry for some odd reason or another. So I think about other things, like how I’m glad to have had the foresight to check temperatures
when I was packing. My wool leggings and sage green sweater dress are the perfect outfit for an evening candle-lit church service. After putting in some light curls I slip on my brown riding boots. One last view in the mirror and I’m ready to go. Kinda. I gallop down the stairs and Dad gives me a twirl before helping me with my coat.

  “You look snug and cozy,” he says as he holds out my coat for me to slip into. “And beautiful, I might add.” I kiss his cheek.

  “Thanks, Daddy.”

  We step out into the late afternoon to find a light coating of frost all over the ground. The temperature seems colder than this morning and the wind has picked up. Snow is definitely coming and since we are most likely to be at the church until well after dark, I am very glad we were able to get all the chores done this morning. Dad will most likely still walk the barn, coop and stables after church, but at least he won’t be out here for hours trying to keep all the animals warm.

  Dad carefully drives the short distance to the church, playing more Christmas tunes the whole way. Normally his radio is set to NPR, so I’m excited that he is in such a festive mood. That means he isn’t focusing on Mom or the lack of her presence. The Cahill’s big, red farm truck is already in the parking lot when we pull in. My heart starts to race as I anticipate what he is going to say. The last time I physically saw him he was leaning in to kiss me, but he and Caleb have been marching through my mind and invading what little dreams I have had all day.

  “Honey, what’s wrong?” Dad asks as he parks the car. “You’re shivering.”

  “I’m…I’m just not looking forward to getting out of this warm car. It’s cold out there!” I’m not lying really. I really don’t want to get out in the cold either.