“That’s true. He still doesn’t oversee that part of the business to this day. He stays upstairs and handles the sales. But he’s very successful.”
“How is he very successful? Has there been a rash of deaths in the last four years I don’t know about?”
“No, nothing macabre like that. He started a side business and apparently makes a killing at it.”
“Doing what?”
Amelia’s eyes follow the conversation between us like she’s watching a tennis match at Wimbledon. The urge to smile is killing me, but I keep my expression neutral.
“He’s an Uber driver.”
“You’re shitting me right now.”
“I’m dead serious.”
“He doesn’t use the hearse to pick up fares, does he?”
“Yes, of course, he does. Have you seen how much room they have in the back of those cars? An entire family’s luggage will fit back there. Plus, he has the funeral home limo that he uses for special occasions—weddings, proms, stuff like that.”
“Leon Bolt is a big fat no. I’m not going on a date in a hearse or a funeral limo. That’s just wrong.”
Amelia’s purse slips off the back of her chair, with a little help from Amelia herself, and she leans over to pick it up. Even with her face hidden under the table, I can still see her shoulders jumping and hear her muffled snickers. Mallory doesn’t notice how long it takes Amelia to retrieve her purse because she’s so engrossed in the mental images of Ubering via hearse. I lift my coffee to my lips and enjoy a good, long drink, not even bothering to hide my smile. Neither of my table mates is looking at me anyway.
When Amelia finally rights herself, her face is bright red and tears shimmer in her eyes. She dabs one corner with her napkin and takes a deep breath to calm herself. The scene is a lot like having a funny thought stuck in your head while in the middle of a quiet church sermon. The harder you try to control yourself, the worse you make the situation for both yourself and everyone around you. Amelia finally makes eye contact with me, only to be overcome by yet another snigger.
“Excuse me. My coffee must’ve gone down the wrong way.” She pats her chest, playing off her ruse with expert skill. We both know she’s full of shit, but whatever. We’ll both pretend we don’t know the truth of what just happened anyway. “As fun as it’s been to try to choose a date for Mallory, can I make a suggestion?”
“I’m listening.” I tilt my head to the side, curious to hear where she’ll go with this. Mallory looks at her friend and nods, though she’s still slightly disturbed by Leon’s side-business dealings.
“Mallory, the only logical choice for your date is Hunter. He’s friends with Chad. He’s already going to talk to Chad on my behalf. It would be weird if Hunter did all the work, only for you to show up with Leon.”
“Makes sense to me. Mal, you okay with this plan?”
“Um, yeah, sure. I can’t…I can’t show up with Leon.”
“It’s settled, then. Tomorrow night good with you two ladies?”
“Tomorrow night is perfect, Hunter. Give me your phone, and I’ll text my cell to you. All you have to do is let me know what time, and I’ll make sure Mallory is ready to go.”
I hand my phone over to Amelia, but Mallory is the one who holds my attention. Thoughts of Leon and hearses are leaving her mind, while memories of her and me take their place. The slight twinge of sadness in her eyes gives away her thoughts. No, wait—it’s not sadness. It’s fear. Fear of being with me again. Fear of allowing herself to both face the past and face the future. I’m not sure which emotion is worse. Either way, my plan to erase all the bad times and remind her of the good times is underway. And the clock is ticking, because she’ll be gone again in just a couple of weeks.
“My break is over. Time to get back to playing Santa—the kids are waiting. And I’ll be impatiently waiting for tomorrow night. See you then, beautiful.”
“Good night, Santa. Don’t forget to call Chad.”
On my way to change clothes, I do just that. “Hey man, we have a double date tomorrow night. Here’s the plan.”
After a few raps on the door, I step back and wait, holding my breath to see if Mallory actually answers. She may have headed back to Georgia in the middle of the night just to avoid our forced double date tonight. Little does she know, that won’t stop me. I’ll just follow her back to Athens, and we’ll have our date Southern-style, to match her new accent. There’s no way I can right all the wrongs between us while we’re nearly a thousand miles apart.
Pete answers the door wearing a smug grin. After a firm handshake, he invites us in. “I’m sure I don’t have to tell you boys this, but the girls are still getting ready. And they’ve been bickering the entire time. Mallory says Amelia stole her shirt. Amelia says it’s always been her shirt, and Mallory only claims it because she kept it so long after she borrowed it.”
“They sound like sisters.” Chad chuckles, knowing too well what that’s like.
“You’re exactly right—they’re sisters in nearly every sense of the word. Jackie and I have all but legally adopted Amelia as our own. You two are brave to take them on a double date. You won’t have a dull moment tonight, that’s for sure.” Pete tells us to take a seat while we wait for the girls to finish dressing.
We make small talk, chatting about the number of visitors, the Christmas forecast, and how the family is doing. But I know Pete has more to say to me—something too personal to say in front of Chad. He seriously considers it a couple of times, then changes his mind again. After Mallory and I broke up, I have no idea what she told her parents happened. No matter what I did in an attempt to make her to talk to me, to be my friend again at the very least, she wouldn’t hear it. Pete and Jackie never treated me any differently, but I’m sure they resented me for their only daughter’s broken heart and choice of out-of-state college.
The girls make their grand entrance just in time, since I’m sure Pete was about to throw caution to the wind and say exactly what has been on his mind immediately before we heard their voices coming from the stairs.
“In case you’ve forgotten, this is all your fault anyway. You should give me the shirt as payment for interrupting my plans.” Mallory is arguing her case, whatever that may be.
“Interrupting your plans? You need to step away from the crack pipe, girl. Your only plans were to find the bottom of the Ben & Jerry’s container while watching sappy Lifetime movies in your pajamas. If anything, you should buy me a new shirt for making you leave the house.” Amelia fires her own jabs back at Mallory.
“Crack pipe? You’re the one who needs to quit hitting the crack pipe. I leave the house all the time—I’m leaving tonight! But what you signed me up for is just wrong. Wrong, Amelia!”
“Stop being a baby. It’s time to put on your big-girl panties and deal with life. I’m telling you this as your best friend.”
“I’d prefer you stop being such a good friend to me, then.”
They turn the corner and walk into the den where we’re waiting, unfazed by our presence and our overhearing their quarrel.
“What’s the plan for tonight, fellas?” Amelia asks, her Southern twang bleeding through her words more than usual.
“Dinner and a show.” My reply is technically correct—just possibly not in the same manner they’re expecting. Variety is the spice of life and all that bullshit. Right?
“Sounds great. We’re ready to go.” Amelia turns to Pete and hugs his neck. “Don’t worry about us, Dad. We’ll be back before you even realize we’re gone.”
“Have fun. Call me if you need anything.”
“Thank you, Daddy. Love you.” Mallory hugs him next then moves to stand beside me, though she’s just far enough away to avoid touching me.
“Love you, too, jelly bean.” Ah, the pet name he always used for her. That should create a sense of nostalgia in her.
“Dad.” She pretends to complain, but she secretly loves the way he dotes on her.
Am
elia and Chad are already waiting at the door, having a private conversation and completely ignoring the rest of us. Seems this date is working out for half of us anyway. I slide my hand down Mallory’s arm and lace our fingers together. She stares at our linked hands in surprise, but she doesn’t try to pull away from me. That’s a good sign.
“Ready to go, Mal? We’re having dinner and drinks at The Cove before the show. Our table is waiting.”
The chatter in my truck on the way to the best bar in town is warm and friendly, from everyone. We’ve talked enough about the past; now I’m learning all about their present. Their life in Athens, their time in college, and the adventures they’ve had. Amelia still swears Mallory isn’t the same person I’ve described, but she feels the same to me.
Once we’re seated inside the bar, the owner stops by our table to say hello.
“Grey McDaniels! I haven’t seen you in forever!” Mallory stands and embraces Grey.
“Well, if you’d get your skinny ass home more often, you’d see me all the time. Did you lose your passport or something?”
“I’m only in Georgia, Grey.”
“Yeah, I know. Don’t you need a passport to come back home from there, or do they just let anyone back into the state?”
“Ha-ha. You’re still so funny. Say hello to your brother for me.”
“Hang around for a while, and you may get to say hello yourself. Roan’s coming home for Christmas this year.”
“A big-time country music star back in our little town? Don’t let the tourists overhear that news!”
“He’ll be secluded enough at the cabin, but you know you’re always welcome to drop by and see us.”
“I wouldn’t crash your family Christmas, but if I just happen to be in the neighborhood…”
“Anytime, girl. Anytime.”
Grey disappears back behind the bar, and our waitress stops to take our orders. We chat and laugh over the appetizers and drinks, with Mallory loosening up more and more with each sip. Not long after our meals arrive, she’s joking and teasing everyone as if she’d never changed. As if she’d never left. Just like old times.
“What is this big show you keep talking about?” Mallory finally addresses me individually, ignoring the other couple who are completely into each other.
“I can’t wait for you to see, but it has to be a surprise.”
“I’m ready whenever you are.”
Is it wrong that I really hope she means she’s ready for more than just the show?
Chapter Seven
Mallory
When the idea of a double date was first mentioned, I was determined not to go. But the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. Coffee in Santa’s Workshop was fine, just two old friends catching up. But a real date is just what I need to remind myself why we’re not compatible. I realized Amelia was right about me during our “find Mallory a date” conversation, but not for the reason she thinks. Every guy I’ve gone out with was a terrible fit for me—that’s why I couldn’t get past even the minor annoyances. The men Hunter suggested were also horrible matches—and he knew that—but the trivial things I found wrong with those guys only confirmed my suspicions.
Trivial, except the Uber hearse thing. I just can’t.
I haven’t met my soul mate yet.
He’s out there, but he’s not anyone I’ve met yet. If he were, I’d already know.
So, that fact actually made my mind up for me. Go out with Hunter, show him and Amelia once and for all I’ve moved past our juvenile relationship, and part on better terms this time. No unresolved feelings, no unearthed secrets, and no living in the past.
We leave from dinner and drinks at The Cove, and Hunter drives east out of town, so I immediately think we’re going to the lake. But it’s not cold enough yet for it to be frozen solid, so there’s not much point of going there at night. Then I realize he has other plans when we turn north and head toward the mountain. I chance a glance over at him, the soft glow of the dash lights illuminating his face. Feeling my eyes on him, he turns his head in my direction. Even away from the lights of town, riding in his truck under the dark skies with bright twinkling stars, I can read his expression. I can hear his thoughts. I can feel the weight of his stare like fingertips caressing my skin.
“Penny for your thoughts, Snagglepuss.” His lips curl up in a triumphant smile when my bottom jaw drops to my lap.
“Oh. My. God. I can’t believe you brought up that nickname out of all the little pet names you’ve had for me over the years. I’d forgotten all about it, thankfully.”
“Are you kidding? I’ll never forget it. I’m sure I can still dig up your first-grade picture and remind you how you got that name.”
“No. That’s not necessary. All kids lose their baby teeth. I don’t know why I got a special name to commemorate the childhood rite of passage.”
“You don’t know why? Really?”
“No, I have no idea. Tell me.”
“Because even without your front teeth, you were the cutest girl in the whole school. You’re just special, Mal.”
“Yes. Snagglepuss does make me feel extra special. Really.”
Hunter laughs at my sardonic reply, his rich, deep chuckle resonating in the cab. “It should make you feel special. You’re the only one I’ve given that name to—that makes you one of a kind.”
“With good reason. Everyone else calls it snaggle-tooth…not snaggle-puss.”
“Tomato. To-mah-to. Same difference.”
“Your reasoning skills blow my mind, Hunter. They’re not even remotely close.”
His reply to my argument is the same as it’s always been—a hearty laugh at my expense. But for whatever reason, it makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside.
That shit needs to stop.
Halfway up the mountain, he turns into the parking area for Santa’s Village. The place is deserted at this time of night since the kids are all tucked into their beds by now. The thousands of twinkling lights are off, and the entry gates are locked.
“What are we doing here? The park is closed, and all the businesses are dark.” I’m positive he can see the confusion across my face and hear it in my voice.
“Yes, everything here is closed, because it’s after hours. And that’s exactly why we’re here.”
He hops out of the truck and walks around to open my door, taking my hand as I slide out of the plush leather seat. From the corner of my eye, I see Chad doing the same for Amelia, but the warmth of Hunter’s hand wrapped around mine distracts me.
“If you get me arrested for trespassing, Hunter Beckett, I will kick your ass. Chief Land will keep me in the city jail just out of spite and show my mug shot during his scared straight visits at the high school.”
“Stop worrying, Snagglepuss. I’ll take care of you if Chief Land shows up again.”
“We’re not skinny-dipping tonight, Hunter. I mean it.”
“It is a little too cold for that tonight. Maybe we’ll visit the lake this summer and avoid getting caught then. For now, I have other plans, Mal.”
Amelia and Chad appear to be in their own little world—and that world only has the two of them in it. Her arm is wrapped around his elbow, she’s glued to his side, and even their footsteps are in cadence. She’s not questioning why we’re here. I doubt she has even looked around to see where we are. Right now, she only has eyes for Chad. I have a feeling I’m going home alone tonight.
When we reach the gates, Hunter unlocks them with a key from his pocket. I take a step backward and look from the lock to his face a couple of times. “Where did you get that key?”
“I’m Santa, remember?”
“If you say so.” Okay, so that makes a little sense. He’d need access to the place to get dressed before the kids see him. But I doubt the Santa at Macy’s gets his own store key, much less a key to the entire mall. “You know Chief Land still hates me, right?”
We’re so getting arrested tonight.
He swings the m
etal gate open and motions for me to enter first. With only a slight hesitation, I step through the opening and release my held breath. At least we’ll all go to jail together. When I turn toward Hunter again, he’s locking the gate behind us. Is it odd that makes me feel safe? I mean, if I can’t get out, Chief Land can’t get in.
Hunter wraps his hand around mine again, and we stroll along the deserted footpath, heading toward the very back of the complex.
“This place is amazing. I can’t believe my parents didn’t tell me about it. It literally makes me feel like I’m at the North Pole, walking through Santa’s hometown.”
“That’s the idea. It definitely goes with the theme of the town, but this gives us the opportunity to offer the tourists more choices.”
We stop in front of a small, outdoor ice-skating rink that I didn’t even see yesterday. Hunter asks for everyone’s shoe sizes before disappearing inside to get our skates. When he returns, I’m so excited to lace mine up and hit the ice, I can hardly wait.
“Do they not have ice-skating in Georgia?” Hunter smiles, pleased with himself.
“Yes, there are ice rinks, but they’re all indoors. I miss skating on the lake in the dead of winter, but this outdoor rink will work every bit as well. There’s just something about gliding across the ice underneath the stars.”
“I know exactly what you mean.” Hunter squeezes my hand, and we rise together from the bench.
“Chad, honey, I’ll probably have to hold on to you for the first twenty or so passes until I get the hang of this. I grew up on roller blades, not ice blades.” Amelia’s excuse to stay close to Chad is a valid one—not that either of them seems to mind either way.
Hunter and I step onto the ice, and I’m instantly transported back in time to the cold winter nights when we skated together by the light of the moon. Most of the time, our lips and bodies stayed glued together, only moving our feet enough to continue the forward momentum. Even tonight, I can still feel his arms locked around my waist, his lips on mine, and the taste of him on my tongue. Sometimes, I miss those moments more than anything else—being so completely lost in someone that nothing else mattered.
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