Chapter Eleven
THE NEXT DAY, THE DAY BEFORE Christmas Eve, was blocked out for decorating the City Building.
Paisley stopped in at work to check her email and her voicemail. She also accepted the keys to Tom’s hippie VW van. Unlike the soccer-mom vans Paisley’s friends had to drive to the Friday night football games in high school, this one didn’t have rows of seats. Instead, there was a small kitchenette along the side behind the driver and a bench across the back, which left a whole lot of floor space. She transferred the punch bowl and other decorations she’d picked up in Billings from her car to the van. Then, she slid the door shut, confident the supplies would fit in the mustard yellow monster.
“I’ll be over around three to help with the final touches.” Small ice crystals formed on Tom’s mustache.
Paisley eyed the vehicle. “Do you think the ol’ girl will make it today? It’s been awfully cold.”
Tom shook his head. “An apocalypse couldn’t stop this baby. She fired right up this morning. I thought I’d have to hook up the cables for a jump; but she did just fine.”
The van’s longevity explained why Tom kept the monstrosity around. Paisley yanked on the handle and climbed into the ripped driver’s seat. He obviously didn’t hang on to the van because of its condition. Paisley wrinkled her nose. Or, the smell. What was that? She took a tentative sniff. Rotten banana. She twisted in her seat and gave the van a once over. No way was she going to root it out. Just the idea of a fuzz covered banana made her gag and she had to roll down the window to let in clean air.
Her first stop was the linen rental shop, then the bakery to pick up doughnuts and a five-foot deli sandwich to feed volunteers. Once she was done there, she made her way to the City Building where a small army pulled circular tables out of the storage closet and carried folding chairs in from the council room.
“Where do you want these?” asked Jared, Mr. Volunteer Coordinator, as he hefted the first table off the dolly.
Paisley rummaged through her files until she found the one with the room layout she’d agonized over for several hours. The trick was getting enough seating so people felt comfortable hanging out, but providing enough space for those who wanted to dance. She handed him the schematic encased in a sheet protector. “This is the stage area,” She pointed at the rectangle marked stage. “It’s along that wall.”
“Sweet. This shouldn’t take long.” Jared rolled the table over to the right spot and pulled the legs out with a clang.
Once Jared got the first table set up, he spent the next half hour directing the crew, which freed Paisley to meet with the decorating committee at the front doors.
“I’m so excited for the new theme. I was up all night planning center pieces.” Karen tipped her head toward her car. “I’ve got a bunch of stuff in the trunk too.”
“Awesome. I really appreciate your help.” Paisley took an armful of tablecloths out of the van and followed Karen inside.
The morning passed and before she knew it, Sawyer and the band came through the door. They carried music stands and extension cords. She held her breath, not sure what she’d say to Clay. He’d tried to call her several times and she’d let it go to voicemail. He never left a message. Why did guys do that? If whatever he had to say was important enough to make the effort to get her number from Amber or Sawyer, then wasn’t it important enough to leave a message?
She wanted to hear from him, wanted to listen to the gentle swing of his deep voice. If she could just make it through Christmas, then she could shut the door on her feelings for Clay and not ache to see him like she had been.
Amber came in, pushing Journey in her stroller. Paisley smiled and then looked past her expectantly. When Clay didn’t walk in, Paisley’s eyes went back to Amber who gave her a bright smile and a small shake of her head.
Sawyer gave her a one-armed, vice-grip hug. He was more like Dad than he thought. “Mom said to tell you she’d be here soon.”
“Thanks. You guys want some food?” Paisley motioned to the sub she’d brought in as she opened two bags of chips. “Karen, you had better come over before Bill eats everything.”
They gathered around and Jeb offered grace. Paisley forbade them from sitting at the tables for fear they’d spill on the tablecloths so they sat cross-legged on the floor.
Paisley’s mom bustled in, Peake in tow. She got Peake a plate and made sure he was settled between Sawyer and Bill before she went back to make her own. Sawyer pulled over a folding chair and Mom sat down with a sigh.
“I hear I’m going to be a grandma again.”
All eyes turned toward Amber who swallowed and took a swig from her soda can. “Not me. Paisley.” She pointed at Paisley with her drink. The room went silent as every head swiveled in her direction.
“Who told you that?” Paisley demanded.
“Peake,” replied her mom.
Paisley and Amber looked at each other and burst out laughing. “Don’t believe everything you hear.” Amber dabbed at her eyes as she laughed.
Mom put her hand on her hip. “What I want to know, is, where he got such an idea. Honestly, a boy his age shouldn’t be talking about such things.”
Paisley’s face went red and she tucked her chin down.
“Why don’t you ask Clay?” said Amber.
Paisley’s jaw dropped and she swatted at Amber who leaned away laughing.
“Someone had better tell me what’s going on.” Mom wasn’t about to let Paisley off the hook.
Paisley gritted her teeth. “Nothing.”
Amber scooted back – out of Paisley’s reach. “Paisley and Clay took Peake to the carnival the other night. I guess they got all smoochie and Peake thinks they’re going to get married and have a baby.”
Paisley put her hands on her hips. “That is not what happened!”
“So you didn’t kiss him?” Amber asked all wide-eyed.
Paisley pursed her lips.
“Ha. Guilty by silence,” Sawyer said. He and Bill fist bumped.
Paisley spread her hands as if she could smooth the situation with her palms. “If you must know-” She glared around the circle, including Karen and her daughters in the look because they paid as much attention to her family drama as Mom did. “Clay and I did take Peake to the carnival – BUT,” she held up a finger, “I got sick on the ride and since Amber gets sick when she’s pregnant, Peake thought it meant I was going to have a baby.” There, she’d set them all straight. She folded her arms and dared any of them to bring up the kiss.
“Well, I’m grateful there’s an explanation. Sawyer, you need to have a talk with Peake about what little boys should and should not discuss with their grandmothers.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Sawyer had a glint in his eye, the same glint he had the time he promised not to drag a sled behind the truck and went ahead and hooked it up behind the tractor instead.
Once they finished eating, Mom got to work unpacking the punch cups. Sawyer and the guys brought in the rest of the equipment and started the long process of attaching cords and connecting power. Peake flitted from here to there and Journey slept. Karen dove into decorating with gusto and the room started to take shape.
Paisley had several odd jobs, like unpacking the supplies in the kitchen, to keep her busy. She had just arranged the paper goods on the counter when Amber came in with Journey on her hip.
“Hey.” She filled a spill-proof cup with milk and held the baby girl close.
“You guys have what you need?” Paisley asked.
“Yeah, we should be fine.”
“Do you need help with Clay’s stuff? It was kind of rude of him to leave you all to take care of this.” Paisley slammed a roll of aluminum foil on the counter. Journey stopped drinking and gave her an appraisal. Paisley made a face and Journey dissolved into giggles.
“He’s got a meeting with the investors today – in person. They flew some guy out to Billings.”
“Two days before Christmas?” Paisley gave her a d
isbelieving look.
“They want to get the studio up and running as soon as possible.”
Paisley’s grrr smoldered.
“So ...” Amber twirled one of Journey’s pigtails around her finger. “Did you and Clay really kiss?”
Paisley put the paper towels near the zip-top bags. “What if we did?”
“That would be great. Are you guys getting together?”
“No.” Paisley shook out a plastic shopping bag and began to shove the others inside.
“Why not?” Amber blinked.
Paisley turned and leaned one hand on the counter. “One word: Brent.”
Amber softened. She placed her spare hand on Paisley’s arm. “Clay is not Brent. He’s not even close to Brent. They don’t even reside in the same county.”
Paisley tied off the plastic bag. “I know. I know. Clay’s a good guy.”
“One of the best. Paisley, he’s a keeper.”
Paisley tucked the bags into a drawer. Her eyes stung and she didn’t want to turn around. Too much stood between her and Clay. It wasn’t just the long-distance thing. “We’re just different. He’s all dreams and I’m all spreadsheets and formatting tips.”
“But your differences are what makes the two of you so great; you guys complete each other.”
“Whatever. He’d get bored with me faster than—” Paisley snapped her fingers to show how quickly the time would fly. Her tears brimmed over and she grabbed a napkin to dab at her eyes. Where was this coming from? From her deepest fears, that’s where. For two years she’d wondered what she’d done wrong with Brent. Maybe, if she’d been more exciting, more beautiful, or more exotic, Brent might have stayed.
After a time, she realized she didn’t miss Brent. She missed being someone’s someone special. Clay made her feel cherished. If she held on and he left, it would hurt too much. So, she had to let go. She couldn’t ask him to choose between her and his studio. Being forced into an ultimatum was never a good way to start a relationship.
“You don’t have to be the exact same person to get along,” said Amber.
“You and Sawyer are, and look at you two – you’re so happy it makes me sick.” Paisley half laughed and half-cried at her confession.
Amber rubbed Paisley’s arm. “Honey, Sawyer and I are as different as fire and water. He’s laid-back, happy to sit behind his drums, and I’m all about showmanship. I drive him crazy, and he mellows me out when I get frazzled. That’s why we work.”
“I never thought about the way you guys worked together.”
Journey tipped her cup upside down and several drops of milk splashed onto the counter. “So much for spill proof,” said Amber.
Paisley used a paper towel to clean up the milk.
“He deserves a chance,” Amber said to her back.
What if there was a way and Paisley cut it down before they ever had a shot? She groaned. Why did love have to be so complicated?
Amber gathered up the empty juice cup and Paisley whipped around before she could leave.
“Do you think he could ... That we could ... Does Clay...?”
Amber winked. “Yes.”
Yes. Paisley pressed her hands to her cheeks. That one three-letter word had caused more turmoil for her than all the other words in the English language combined. Leaning against the counter, Paisley wondered, could she do it? Could she say “yes” once again?
Chapter Twelve
CHRISTMAS EVE CAME AND WENT. Paisley watched Peake open his gifts and ate dinner with the family in a haze of soul searching. By the time the band met for their sound check on Christmas Day, she still hadn’t come to any conclusions and she steadfastly avoided looking at Clay as the band plugged in. They’d come in regular clothes and would change just before the dance. Paisley did the same, thrilled at the opportunity to reveal her new dress to Amber and if she didn’t think too hard about it, Clay, too.
She hadn’t decided one way or the other if she was going to take a chance on him. It just wasn’t an easy answer to come up with. She did face one Christmas ghost – Brent. Brent had messed with her, but she didn’t have to let him mess her up. What Amber said about her and Clay balancing one another made a lot of sense. She could see the advantages of being with someone who appreciated those differences. Even so, the miles between Montana and California were pretty lonely.
Instead of dwelling on the impossibilities, Paisley took in the decorations.
Besides the stunning black and white, multi-tiered cupcake display – with vinyl records hanging from the ceiling above and jars of blue, white, and silver, colored gum balls for decoration, there was an old-fashioned banner hanging across the stage, Christmas trees done up in baby blue and silver, and Christmas swag hung from the back of chairs, the edge of tables, and draped across the walls. Each table had a record centerpiece surrounded by pine sprigs and accented with glass ornaments. The guitars and drum decorations Paisley bought had been scattered throughout the room to take the theme to the right side of pizazz. What Paisley loved most were the textures. Some were visual textures, like the checkered ribbons running down the punch table or the shiny ornaments. Others were physical textures, like the glass beads, rough tulle, and hints of black leather here and there.
As the band talked through their pre-show routine, Paisley manned the soundboard, going through their levels one at a time. When she got to Clay, their eyes met briefly and Paisley saw excitement and trepidation in his gaze, though she didn’t know if it was because he was happy to see her or just happy to be on stage.
The sound check wasn’t a quick process, but it was needed and she found peace in the task. It was easy to believe her life would work out when everything did work out on the soundboard. Here was order. If she slid the mixer, then Amber’s voice sounded pitchy and Amber gave her a dirty look. If she toned it down, Amber sounded like a star – and gave her a grateful wink.
Why couldn’t life be like a soundboard, she wondered as she finished up.
Tina arrived in her bakery truck to set out the refreshments and stock the kitchen. Karen and her daughters came next. The girls agreed to keep the cupcake display and punch bowl filled and free from tampering. They’d never had problems before, but Paisley was on guard.
“If the Adams twins come, steer them clear of anything with frosting,” she warned the oldest girl, Myranda.
She heard a soft chuckle behind her and turned to see Clay, wearing his black suit with narrow lapels. Somehow, she managed to keep her composure despite Clay’s unfathomable good looks. Paisley had the urge to comb his hair off his forehead and had to press her nails into her palms to keep them from going to Clay on their own. “Be sure to keep this guy away, as well. He’s just as bad.”
Clay put his hand to his chest and gave them a look of mock innocence. A look Paisley wasn’t buying. Clay melted her angst nonetheless and she gave him a real smile.
“No worries, Paisley. I can handle the Adams.” Myranda punched her fist into her other hand and Paisley felt confident in her choice of guards – er servers.
Myranda went off to find her sisters and Paisley had no choice but to face Clay. The moment she’d been dreading for two days had arrived and she was no closer to a decision than she was to scoring a ride in Santa’s sleigh.
“Can we talk?” asked Clay.
The most dangerous words in the English language.
“Sure, but you’ll have to walk with me.”
Paisley started off toward the kitchen without waiting for his answer.
Clay put both hands on the counter and leaned forward as Paisley loaded a serving tray with her sugar cookies. “I got the loan.”
She fumbled with a cookie. “That’s wonderful,” she said with true enthusiasm. Above all else, she wanted Clay to be happy and owning a studio would be his dream come true. “I’m so excited for you.”
Clay reached across the tray and touched her hand. “I couldn’t have done it without you, Paisley.”
Paisley felt her c
heeks grow hot. “All I did was make your presentation look pretty.”
“You did a lot more than formatting. You gave me the confidence I needed to push forward.”
“Well, you deserve it – you’ve worked hard enough.”
Paisley moved the cookie tray and reached for another one. Clay’s smile faltered. “What is it?” Paisley asked.
“This is just the beginning. There’s so much more to do, and ... I was hoping you’d like to help.”
Paisley shrugged. She didn’t know what more she could do, especially from a distance, but she was willing to help. “With what?”
“Organizing the business. There’s permits to file for, inspectors to schedule, artists to schmooze, production dates and deadlines.” He ran his hands through his hair and Paisley smiled when it landed in exactly the right place. Life still wasn’t fair.
“Sounds like a full-time job.”
“It would be – if you’ll take it.”
Paisley sucked in. He was asking her to go with him! For just a moment she held on to the joy rushing through her veins. Then, as she looked around the kitchen at all the donated baked goods, she knew she couldn’t leave her home. “Clay,” she said quietly. The boulder in her stomach was the sign she’d been waiting for. “I can’t go with you. Snow Valley is my home.”
Clay’s mouth dropped open, then shut, then opened again before he said, “What do you mean?”
Just then Amber burst into the kitchen wearing a stunning 1950’s ball gown in emerald green. She had her hair piled on top of her head and a string of pearls around her neck. “Paisley! Did you get the ties?”
“They’re in my purse.”
Amber grabbed Clay’s arm. “We’re on in fifteen minutes.” She pushed him out the door in front of her and called back over her shoulder. “I’ll meet you in the ladies room to put your hair up. Hurry!”
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