by Teri Wilson
My face grows warm as our laughter dies down and I realize Aidan is studying my disheveled appearance.
“How did you get here? Did you roll up to the firehouse in a giant snowball?” He gives the pompom on the top of my hat a tug, and my hair spills over my shoulders in a tumble of messy waves.
“Sort of. I’ve been…playing in the snow.” I brush past him and head toward the table full of gifts, eager to get off the topic of my big fat failure of a snowman.
Plus, Aidan’s nearness is making me breathless. I can feel my pulse pounding at the base of my throat, and I need to focus on something other than his soulful blue eyes.
I pick up a boxed jigsaw puzzle. The picture on the box shows a shaggy white dog with a red velvet bow tied around his neck, sitting in a snowy field at the edge of a forest. “This is sweet. It reminds me of Fruitcake.”
“We have a lot of that particular puzzle. A card company donated them to our toy drive. Do you think you’ll still find it cute after you’ve wrapped a few dozen of them?”
“Absolutely.” I slide out of my coat, ready to get started. If my affection for Christmas dogs hasn’t waned in the twenty years since I was the Parade Sweetheart, I don’t think it’s going away anytime soon.
Aidan sits across from me, and we wrap the pile of the puzzles until each one is covered in glittery paper and smooth satin ribbon. Christmas carols are playing from the fire station’s sound system, and we work in silence for a while until Aidan picks up an action figure from the pile of gifts and holds it up to himself.
“Look, it’s my twin,” he says with a wink.
I roll my eyes. “You’re not going to let that little comment go, are you?”
He shakes his head and grabs a fresh roll of wrapping paper. “No, I’m not, mainly because you were right.”
“I was?” My hands go still, and I look up from the half-wrapped doll on the table in front of me.
Aidan is focused intently on folding his sparkly red paper into straight lines—so much so that I have a feeling he’s purposefully avoiding my gaze. “I work a lot. It’s pretty much all I do these days, so I understand where the action hero comment came from. I’m the last person who should be giving you hard time about being in a hurry to get back to your job.”
“What you do is important, though. You’re legitimately a hero.” I’m very aware of the dangers involved with being a firefighter. Before my dad retired, my mom prayed for him every single time he left for work. As a little girl, my heart would jump to my throat every time I heard a siren.
“There’s more to being brave than willingly walking into a burning building,” Aidan says quietly.
Michael Bublé’s voice swells around us, singing about kissing on a cold December night. A sparkle of gold glitter from an earlier roll of wrapping paper is stuck to Aidan’s forehead, and a lump forms in my throat because this is the first real heart-to-heart we’ve had in nearly a decade. I’ve missed talking to Aidan like this.
I’ve missed us.
When Aidan finally looks up, his smile is bittersweet. “In a way, I guess it’s easier to put my life on the line than my heart.”
Okay…wow. That’s quite an admission, and it feels like an arrow straight to the center of my chest.
Aidan shakes his head. “Don’t. I know what you’re thinking, but I didn’t mean it as any kind of slam against you. It took me a while to admit it, but you were right to say no all those years ago. We were too young to build a life together back then. We both had a lot of growing up to do, and in the end, it wasn’t just you that let our relationship die. That’s on both of us. I could have fought for you, for what we had—I could have waited, convinced you we could take things at your pace. But I didn’t. I let us drift further and further apart.”
It’s the absolution I’ve been waiting for, but somehow, I always thought it would make me feel better than I do when he says it. Honestly, the only thing I feel right now is sad.
Sad for me, sad for Aidan and sad for what could have been.
“It’s always been hard for me—you know that,” Aidan says. “After my dad died, I wanted to be the man of the family. Strong. Stoic. I’ve never had an easy time opening up to people. You were always the only one.”
I nod gingerly, because I do know. When I first met Aidan, he was closed like a book. Getting to know him, seeing him open up and share his thoughts and feelings with me, took time. While I’ve been away, I just assumed he’d found someone else he trusted with his heart. I never asked my parents if he was involved with someone else, because I was afraid of the answer—even while I was dating Jeremy.
Aidan is a good man. He’s kind in ways that make my heart twist. It’s taken me a while to realize that that sort of man is a rarity. They certainly don’t stay single forever.
He shrugs and gives me a boyish smile. “I suppose it’s something I need to work on.”
“Has there been anyone else?” I ask in a voice just shy of a whisper. “I mean, since me? Since us?”
“Not anyone serious.” Aidan averts his gaze. “You?”
“Yes. His name was Jeremy.” I swallow hard. Susan knows all about my big breakup, and I’m fairly certain she’s told Aidan at least a little about it, but he deserves to hear it from me. “It was quite serious, but we broke up right before I came home for Christmas. I was actually supposed to be in Paris with him and his family right now.”
“Paris? Wow.” Aidan glances at our surroundings. The Owl Lake Fire Department is about as far as a person could possibly get from the Champs-Élysées. “Is it okay for me to admit that I’m glad you’re here instead?”
“I’m glad, too,” I say.
And this time when I smile at him, I feel lit from within, like a thousand glittering Christmas lights. Because right here, right now, there’s no place I’d rather be.
“All done,” I say, placing a shiny green bow on the final wrapped package. The pile of gifts takes up the entire surface of the farm table even though it seems like we just got started.
Jingle, jingle.
Aidan’s saying something about the firemen delivering the gifts to the nearby children’s shelter, but I’m flipping through the charms on the bracelet. I pause when I reach the tiny silver Christmas gift, topped with a green enamel bow. My words from the video float back to me.
Dozens of Christmas presents for all the girls and boys.
“Everything okay?” Aidan asks, studying me because I’ve gone suddenly quiet.
Happiness sparkles inside me. “Everything is perfect.”
Chapter Thirteen
“You sound different,” Maya says an hour after Aidan and I’ve finished wrapping the gifts for the toy drive and loading them up into the OLFD utility vehicle.
I’m taking Fruitcake for a walk and trying to resist the urge to build another snowman while I explain to my friend that I won’t be making it back to the city, after all. Honestly, it’s weird how much she can discern simply by the tone of my voice.
“How so?” I ask, although I have to admit, I feel different than I did when I first arrived in Owl Lake. The bracelet is making me look at my life in a new light. I’m not quite sure how to explain it, but I definitely feel a little less lost than I did a few days ago.
“For starters, you haven’t mentioned Jeremy in a while.”
Right. Jeremy—the man I thought I wanted to marry. “The more I think about it, the more I realize how different Jeremy and I are. I can’t believe I didn’t see it sooner.”
“Maybe this trip home has been a good thing,” Maya says, but then she sighs. “Although, I have to ask—you’re really giving up on the promotion?”
Fruitcake romps gleefully at the end of his leash, tossing snow into the air with his nose. I should probably tell my roommate that I’ve got a dog now. She’s going to think I’m losing my mind. Maybe I am. “I’m sure.
It’s hard to explain…things have gotten sort of complicated.”
“You keep saying that and then just leaving it there, like I won’t understand, but I’m your best friend, remember? I can’t send gingerbread ice cream through the phone for us to share, but I’m right here and I’m listening. What’s going on?”
“Do you believe in magic?” I blurt.
There’s a loaded silence on the other end of the line before Maya responds. “What sort of magic?”
“Christmas magic.” I swallow. She’s going to think I hit my head or something and now I believe I’m a character in a Christmas movie. “Let me explain.”
“I’m all ears,” Maya says, and her voice is etched with concern.
I tell her everything, starting with the eventful train ride home and ending with the jingle sound that the bracelet made this morning after Aidan and I had finished wrapping the Christmas gifts for the toy drive. I don’t leave out a single detail, and even though Maya doesn’t say a word while I get it all out, it feels good to finally tell her what’s been going on.
When I’m finally finished, I slow to a stop and look around. Fruitcake pants, and his breath comes out in little puffs in the cold air. We’ve made it almost all the way around the walking trail surrounding Owl Lake. There’s a group of children having an ice-skating lesson on this side of the lake, and they look adorable as they wobble across the frozen surface of the water.
I hold my breath as I wait for Maya to say something.
“So what you’re saying is that a mystery woman who looked like Mrs. Claus left you a magical charm bracelet, and now all the wishes you made twenty years ago that are represented by the charms are coming true?” She enunciates each word with extreme care.
“That’s about it, yes.”
“I told you that you’d have the Christmas of your dreams,” she says with a definite note of triumph in her tone.
I can’t help but laugh. “You did, didn’t you?”
“So that’s the entire story? There isn’t anything else I should know, is there?”
Fruitcake goes into a play bow and wags his tail while he watches the young skaters. Everywhere the dog goes, he seems enthralled by what’s going on around him. He lives completely in the moment, awestruck by the magic of everyday life. Thanks to him—and thanks to the bracelet—I’m beginning to do the same.
“One more thing.” I rest my mittened hand on Fruitcake’s smooth head and he gazes up at me with his melting brown eyes. “I’m keeping the dog.”
After talking to Maya, I have just enough time to get home and change for classic movie night at the Palace. I’m glad it turned out this way because too much time on my hands would have given me time to debate the “date or non-date” quality of this evening’s plans.
The whole thing was Josh’s idea, so I’m certain it falls into the non-date category. But the more time I spend with Aidan, the more confused I am about my feelings for him. Because I’m definitely feeling something, and anything more than simple friendship is far too worrisome to consider. Once the holidays are over, I’ll be right back in Manhattan, at Windsor Fine Jewelry, selling silver charms. As nice as this holiday is, it’s just that—a holiday. Thanks to the magic of the bracelet, it barely even feels like real life anymore. Somewhere deep down, I’m not so sure it is. Maybe once all the wishes come true, I’ll wake up back on the train beside Betty and find out it was all a dream.
The thought makes my stomach churn, so I push it out of my mind and give Fruitcake a goodbye kiss on the head. It leaves a faint lipstick mark behind, just between his ears, and I leave it instead of trying to wipe it away. He looks ridiculously cute, like Cupid in canine form.
No Cupid necessary, I remind myself. This is simply a friendly movie outing.
But when I make my way to the living room, I find Aidan already there, chatting with my mom and dad as casually as if the past eight years never happened. And when he turns his gaze on me, his attention snags immediately on the vintage heart brooch pinned to the lapel of my coat.
“Pretty.” He reaches to give the Victorian charm hanging from the center of the pin a little tap. The heart swivels, catching the light from my mom and dad’s Christmas tree, and something swells deep in the center in my chest.
“It’s one of mine,” I say, and when he looks confused, I elaborate. “I designed it.”
“Wow, that’s incredible.” He angles his head to get a closer look. “It’s beautiful.”
All my emotions seem to bottle up inside my chest. I’m not sure why it means so much to me that he’s noticed and admired the brooch, but it does. “Thank you. The original piece was vintage. I like taking old things and making them new.”
“Ashley does lovely work.” My mom gestures to the necklace she’s wearing. It’s a rose gold locket I made for her last year for Mother’s Day. “I hope the executives in charge of Windsor realize what a great jewelry designer they have in the charms department.”
I shake my head. “It’s not like that, Mom. I help customers choose which charms to put on their bracelets and other pieces. I don’t do any real jewelry design.”
“That’s a shame.” My mom looks disappointed, even though I’m certain we’ve had this conversation before.
“It’s only a hobby,” I remind her.
“If you say so, dear. But something tells me it’s a little bit more than that.” Mom gives her locket a reverent pat.
“Shall we go?” I say to Aidan. I’m ready to leave before this conversation turns into a deep dive into my career.
Windsor Fine Jewelry oozes prestige. If I want to work with jewelry, it’s the place to be. Of course, I just willingly walked away from a chance at a promotion, but that’s okay. So what if I’m not a manager? I still have a job at one of the most legendary jewelry stores in the world. The necklace I made for my mom is just a little trinket.
Still, a warm glow of pride wraps itself around me as Aidan and I head toward the Palace. I like that he’s noticed my charm pin, and I love how much my mother’s locket means to her. I can’t help it. If I think really hard about it, I can’t remember the last time my actual paying job gave me the same feeling of creative satisfaction. As much as I love helping customers choose their charms, it’s just not the same as designing something myself.
Windsor is the last thing on my mind when we get to the movie theatre and load up on popcorn, Junior Mints and whipped eggnogs topped with a generous sprinkling of nutmeg. The showing is a double feature of classic Christmas movies—White Christmas and Holiday Inn. From the moment I nestle into my plush red velvet seat, I feel like time is moving backward. The fashion onscreen is absolutely dreamy, all full swishy skirts with nipped-in waists and glamorous, feminine silhouettes. Just the sort of retro elegance I love.
And the jewelry! There are brooches, delicate watches and intricately designed hair ornaments. I’m in heaven. I turn a smile toward Aidan, but when I do, I find him watching me instead of paying attention to the screen.
My breath catches in my throat. “What is it?”
“I’m just glad we’re doing this, that’s all,” he says, and the wistfulness in his tone makes my stomach flip.
“It’s been a long time,” I whisper.
“Too long.” His expression turns serious while a song and dance number begins on the big, flickering screen in front of us. In the periphery of my vision, Bing Crosby and Danny Kaye are singing about falling in love at Christmastime, but Aidan’s gaze holds me in a way that makes it impossible to look away.
And then, in a voice that’s scarcely more than a tremulous whisper, he says, “I should have fought for you, Ash.”
I swallow hard. “Aiden…”
But he’s not finished, and I’m not sure I want to hear the rest. I’m not sure I can stand it. Dancing around our past is much easier than facing it head-on, because the more time I spend wit
h Aidan, the more I’m beginning to wonder if I made a mistake all those years ago.
“I could have asked you to stay…or I could have waited, but I didn’t do either of those things,” he says, and his smile is suddenly so sad that I’m furiously blinking away tears.
I shake my head. Don’t say any more. Please don’t. “It wasn’t your fault. It was mine.”
“That’s not true, no matter what I tried to tell myself after you left.” He reaches to cup my face in the dark theatre. “It was easier to just close myself off. So easy that I didn’t quite realize that was the choice I’d made until you came back. Being here with you again makes me wish I’d done things differently.”
I can barely breathe. My pulse is pounding a staccato rhythm that seems to beat in time to a simple, three-word phrase.
Definitely a date.
“Sometimes I wish the same thing,” I murmur, and I’m shocked to realize I mean it.
Why am I saying this? You’re living the dream, remember? And that dream is in Manhattan, not here. But when my hands grip the soft velvet of the armrest between us, and when Aidan leans the slightest bit closer to me and his gaze flits toward my lips, I’m consumed with the thought that maybe there’s more to life than dreaming. More to life than fancy trips around the world and posh parties and priceless necklaces.
“Ashley.” Aidan’s minty breath is warm on my face, while onscreen, Bing Crosby is serenading Rosemary Clooney, singing about counting his blessings.
And I realize, now more than ever, how much of a blessing Aidan has been to me—not just yesterday, but today, too. A shiver runs up and down my spine when he leans closer, and I suddenly can’t fathom a tomorrow without him. Manhattan seems a million miles away, even farther than Paris.
My breath catches as Aidan’s gaze drops slowly to my mouth, and my heart swells. It feels as if I’ve been waiting for this kiss for the better part of the past eight years…maybe even longer. Maybe even a lifetime. But just as my eyelashes begin to flutter closed, my attention snags on a glimpse of red over Aidan’s shoulder.