Macy and Molly raced into the room on their chubby legs. Thank God for pint-sized distractions. “We hungwee!” they said in unison, throwing themselves around Dylan’s and Francie’s legs.
“Grandma’s making us a really yummy breakfast,” Dylan said, scooping up both girls into his arms. He met Francie’s eyes. “We’ll talk later,” he said, then headed across the kitchen so the girls could see what Lola was cooking.
No, we won’t. Not if she could help it.
* * * *
Francie spent much of the day avoiding Dylan or being alone with him. When it was time to get the girls ready for sledding, she asked Katie Jo to give her a hand rather than ask Dylan. While on the sledding slopes, they were so busy having fun with the girls, there was no time for serious conversation. After a quick and early lunch, the siblings and Pete went snowmobiling. They invited her along, but she chose to stay back and help Lola finish up her Christmas baking, something made more difficult with two toddlers afoot. Besides, Lola tired easily and might not be up to baking and babysitting by herself.
Snowmobiling would have actually been really fun because she’d never been before, but she’d have ridden with Dylan, her body pressed against his the entire time. And knowing him, he’d have veered off course eventually with the excuse of being alone with her. And he’d want to talk about last night.
She didn’t want to talk about last night and the things she’d said. Ever.
* * * *
Later that afternoon, the family took three vehicles into town. Francie and Dylan had the girls with them, Dylan’s folks drove their big Ford F-350, and the siblings had left a little earlier in Nick’s car.
Thankfully, the girls jabbered and asked questions the entire drive into Winter Lake. Francie sensed Dylan’s eyes on her a few times, but thankfully, he didn’t bring up last night. Maybe he’d realized she was simply drunk and had said some things he just needed to ignore. God, she hoped so.
Once in town, they drove around a bit to find a place to park, but finally they found an open spot on a side street. They got the girls out, bundled them into their coats which hid their pretty Christmas dresses, and headed toward the town square where they met up with Dylan’s parents.
“You girls ready to meet Santa?” Lola said as she and Pete approached.
The girls jumped up and down and squealed. Unfortunately, the line to the Santa photos wrapped halfway down the block. The girls were excited now, but by the time they got to the front of the line, they’d be bored, irritable and hungry again.
Lola must have read Francie’s face. “Don’t worry. The line goes by faster than you’d expect. And there’s entertainment.”
Right as she said that, Katie Jo approached, looking beautiful in her Winter Festival attire. She wore a floor-length red velvet coat, trimmed in white faux fur, with a Queen of the Festival sash from shoulder to hip. A tiara on her head sparkled in the late afternoon sunshine.
“Hey girls!” Katie Jo knelt in front of the twins.
Molly and Macy’s delighted laughter made everyone around them smile. “Auntie KJ!” They clapped their hands and jumped up and down in their red boots.
“Ready to learn the Christmas princess dance?” she asked them.
“Yes, yes. We dance!” Molly squealed, and started spinning, her green velvet dress peeking out from beneath her heavy coat.
Katie Jo grabbed their hands and danced with them, just a silly little jig that had the girls giggling and squealing with delight. Katie Jo motioned for other nearby kids to join, and pretty soon, a group of about ten little kids danced around them.
“She’s great with kids,” Francie said. “And she makes a beautiful queen.”
“I’d like to see you in an outfit like that,” Dylan whispered in her ear, wrapping his arms around her from the back. “But with all those buttons undone. And you wearing nothing underneath except the red stilettos.”
She grinned and nudged him in the side, glad that he was back to his teasing, flirtatious self. There was plenty of time to talk about serious stuff after this weekend was over. But for now, she just wanted to enjoy the holiday and this fun day with her family.
* * * *
Lola was right. The line went by pretty fast, and they stood at the front before Francie knew it. Katie Jo’s entertainment certainly helped.
When they were next in line for photos, Francie bent over and asked the girls, “You ready to meet Santa Claus?” She pointed to the big, jolly-looking Santa sitting in a green velvet chair next to the tree, surrounded by oversized wrapped presents and giant candy canes. Molly clapped her hands and said yes, but Macy’s eyes went wide and she shook her head, her strawberry blond curls beneath her fuzzy ear muffs whipping into a frenzy.
“No Santa, no Santa!”
Uh oh. Tantrum alert. Francie had seen and heard other kids in the line throw tantrums as it came time to actually meet and talk to Santa, but she’d hoped her girls would be different. She should have expected this with Macy and her more introverted ways.
Macy was gearing up for a major outburst. Francie could see it in her red cheeks, her frantic eyes, and the way her body stiffened up.
Before Francie figured out her next tactic, Dylan knelt in front of Macy. “Daddy is kind of nervous to meet Santa by himself. Would you please come with me and keep me company?”
Francie held her breath to see if that would work. Lola touched her arm in solidarity as they waited for Macy’s reaction. Would it be the full-blown tantrum they expected or—
Macy’s fists unclenched and her body relaxed. She cupped Dylan’s face with her red mittened hands. “Help you, Daddy.”
Everyone let out a collective breath. Whew. Crisis averted.
Dylan stood and grabbed the girls’ hands. He met Francie’s eyes. “Let’s go meet Santa.”
The four of them followed a brightly costumed elf up to Santa Claus, who patted his lap for the girls. Molly eagerly climbed onto one red flannel knee. Macy hung back, looking terrified. “Daddy sit,” she commanded.
Dylan grinned, shrugged, then picked up Macy and sat with her on Santa’s other knee. Francie covered a smile with her hand.
“Well, if it’s going to be a family affair, let’s get Mom on my other knee,” Santa said, motioning Francie closer with his black gloved hand.
Dylan stared hard at Santa’s face, then he grinned, obviously recognizing him. “Long time no see, Santa.”
“Dylan Maguire. Welcome home, young man,” Santa said, and shook Dylan’s hand. He poked Francie’s shoulder. “This is one of the good ones, my dear. Even though he was on my naughty list more times than not in his youth.” His booming ho, ho, ho made Molly laugh and Macy shrink into Dylan’s coat.
Francie giggled. “Why am I not surprised to hear that?”
Dylan shot her a mock hurt look, but his eyes laughed with her.
Santa looked at each of the girls in turn. “So what do you want Santa to bring you this year?”
Macy squeezed her eyes shut and wouldn’t tell him, but Molly rattled off a list of things that included a horsey, a puppy and a fairy princess dress like Auntie KJ.
Santa turned to Dylan. “And you?”
Dylan’s twinkling eyes met Francie’s across Santa’s large belly, which looked real and not like a pillow stuffed inside his red suit. “What I want isn’t appropriate to say around young ears.” His brows lifted and Santa’s hearty laugh rang across the square.
“Me thinks you’re going to be on my naughty list again.” Santa turned to Francie. “And you, young lady? What do you want Santa to bring you this year?”
Francie looked from her husband, to her two beautiful girls, and to Santa, before returning her gaze to Dylan. And her answer was suddenly clear. “You don’t need to bring me anything, Santa. I have everything I want already.”
* * * *
The rest of the family materialized and they all posed for a photo with Santa—Dylan, Francie, the twins, Lola and Pete, Nick, Brianna and Que
en Katie Jo.
“Now you’re officially part of the family,” Katie Jo said, hugging Francie as they dispersed, then she headed off for more queenly duties.
Nick nodded. “Yep. It’s there in the small print. Once you have your family picture taken with Santa, you’re stuck with us for the rest of your life. So, sorry. You’re stuck with this loser for the long haul.” He punched Dylan in the arm.
“I could do worse,” she said to him, but looked at Dylan. He wore a weird expression on his face and she couldn’t tell what he was thinking.
Was he still thinking about what she’d said on Santa’s lap, or Nick’s words, or what she’d said last night when she was drunk? Was he happy about it? Mad? Indifferent?
She was tired of the topic of their marriage being the big elephant in the room between them. He’d told her he didn’t want to talk about their situation until he’d been home a few days. Well, too bad. Tonight when they got back to the house, she would get him alone and pour her heart out to him, even though that scared her to death. Dylan wasn’t like her father. Just because he’d never told her he loved her, didn’t necessarily mean he didn’t love her.
She needed to quit acting like her eight-year-old self. Darlene’s words came to her: “What if he’s waiting to see how you feel before he tells you how he feels?”
Maybe her friend had a point.
Well, tonight, she’d risk his possible rejection and her heartache by telling him how she felt. Come what may.
* * * *
They all spent the next hour or so picking out new ornaments for the tree—it was a family tradition, Lola told her. That’s why every Christmas, their tree was just a little bit taller, to hold the accumulating ornaments. “Unless we want to punch a hole into the ceiling to hold a bigger tree, one of these years I’ll have to whittle down the decorations. Give you kids back some of your ornaments so you can put them on your own trees and start your own traditions.”
Francie hoped so.
The girls were getting a little fussy and were probably hungry with a couple of hours left until dinner time. Lola wanted to visit a few more shops before the tree star ceremony, so someone suggested the men take the girls for hot chocolate and a piece of gingerbread, while the women went into the “breakables” shops, as Lola called them. She explained to Francie, “In other words, any shop inappropriate for two-year-old twin girls.”
Francie nodded her agreement, and the men and women split up. Lola was one of those shoppers who had to look down every aisle and on every shelf, so after a few minutes in the first store, Francie headed outside to wait on the sidewalk. She sat down on an open bench. Her breath fogged in front of her face. The temperature had dropped and the light was fading. All the streetlights had already come on. That meant it was almost time for the ceremony. Then they would head home, and she’d figure out a way to speak to Dylan alone.
Her stomach knotted at the idea, but it was something she had to do. Put on her big girl panties and go for it.
Brianna sat beside her. “Note to self: don’t ever agree to go shopping with Mom again.” She giggled. “I tell myself that all the time, but always forget the way she is.” She made a sound through her teeth. “How can anyone like shopping that much?”
“Unless it’s for shoes,” Francie said, thinking of the red stilettos in the suitcase at the house, and hoping she’d have the opportunity to lose the bet tonight.
Brianna fist bumped her. “Well, duh.”
They sat in companionable silence for a while, just enjoying the hustle and bustle of this busy tourist town. Maybe she and Brianna would never be best friends, but at least her sister-in-law was thawing a bit.
“There’s your family,” Brianna said, pointing down the street. Dylan and the girls stood outside a coffee stand on the corner. She didn’t see Nick or Pete anywhere.
As they watched, a young woman stepped out of the stand and came around the building to hug Dylan. Francie’s stomach clenched as he returned the hug. “Old friend, I assume?” she asked, keeping her voice light. She wasn’t normally the jealous type, so she certainly didn’t need to start now.
“That’s Sabrina.”
“As in ‘high school sweetheart’ Sabrina?” Like she had to even ask. How many Sabrina’s did Dylan know?
Brianna nodded. “I forgot she was working there again.”
Sure she had. Wait. The Gingerbread Café was right next door, and they served hot chocolate—the sign on their window said so. So… why hadn’t Dylan gone there, where he and the girls could sit inside and get warm? Why had he bypassed that place and headed all the way to the end of the block?
She knew why.
“So you must have been really disappointed when Dylan broke up with Sabrina, being that she’s your best friend and all.”
“Oh Dylan didn’t break up with her. She broke up with him.”
Francie’s heart skidded to a stop. Didn’t mean anything. It was a long time ago.
“He was devastated,” Brianna went on. “He was so in love with her.”
“Oh?” Keep your tone casual, she commanded herself.
“Sabrina used to tell me it drove her nuts how he was constantly telling her how much he loved her. Over and over again. Well, I guess you know how he is, right?” Brianna laughed.
No. Francie obviously didn’t know how he was. He’d never once told her he loved her. Not once. Nor had he hinted at it, or even joked about it. But apparently he’d told his high school sweetheart those three little words over and over again. The same woman he was talking with and laughing with right now, oblivious to his wife sitting just half a block away, with her heart breaking and spilling onto the sidewalk.
* * * *
The crowd was hushed as Katie Jo and the bucket truck operator lifted off the ground. Hundreds of people had turned out for the ceremony, and the atmosphere was festive and joyous, with smiles all around.
But Francie’s smile was forced. Her hopes dashed. She’d planned to open her heart to her husband tonight, but now she knew that was a moot point. Now she realized this whole weekend was just a fairy tale, it was an illusion, just as she and Dylan had intended all along. She’d let herself get wrapped up in his flirtations, his family’s love, this little town’s warmth, but in a couple of days, she’d be back in Boise, alone with the girls. And Dylan would be back on base. And they’d both have their separate lives. And eventually, someday soon, they’d quietly file for divorce.
Dylan wrapped his arm around her as they watched Katie Jo get closer and closer to the top of the tree. She forced herself not to stiffen and pull away. She’d keep up a false front for the girls’ sake and for Lola’s sake.
Katie Jo waved to the crowd then attached the star. The rest of the tree lit up, the town square exploded into applause, and everyone started singing We Wish You a Merry Christmas.
Francie sung along with the crowd, smiled and had all the right moves, but she was dying inside. Finally, it was time to head back to the house.
Molly tugged on her pant leg. “Go Gamma Gampa.”
Lola and Pete beamed, and Francie smiled at her daughter. “Yes, honey. We’re going back to Grandma and Grandpa’s house.”
Macy shook her head. “Gamma twuck.”
“Your car seats are in Mommy and Daddy’s car, so you can’t drive with Grandma and Grandpa.”
Dylan didn’t say anything, but stood slightly away from them, acting very aloof. Francie blinked back the stinging in her eyes. Was he thinking about Sabrina and what could have been between them?
The girls’ lower lips quivered. Francie was so not in the mood to deal with a tantrum right now, let alone two of them.
Lola must have sensed this, as she rested her hand on Francie’s arm. “Why don’t we switch cars? Pete and I will drive your Honda, and you and Dylan can drive the truck back.”
“That’s a great idea,” Dylan said, suddenly reengaging with the group. He and Pete traded keys and told the other where the vehicles were park
ed. He hooked his arm through Francie’s. “We’ll see you back at the house.”
They easily found the truck about two blocks away, and climbed inside. After a block of silence, Dylan said, “You going to tell me what’s going on?”
“What do you mean?” she said, not looking at him but continuing to stare straight ahead at the approaching lake.
“You’ve been hot and cold to me all day, and I can’t figure you out.” They turned onto Shoreline Drive. The lake was on their left and the reflection of the city lights twinkled and swirled in the dark water.
I could say the same, she thought, and wrapped her arms around herself, even though the cab was warming up nicely. “I saw you with Sabrina.”
Dylan didn’t say anything for a moment. They turned onto a forested road heading up and away from the lake. “That’s what this is about?”
“Are you still in love with her?”
“What? Why would you ask that?”
She noticed he didn’t answer the question. “Brianna told me Sabrina was the one who ended the relationship, and how devastated you were.” She shrugged. “So it makes sense that you’re still in love with her.”
Dylan slammed on the brakes, and the taut seatbelt caught her as she jerked forward. The truck practically skidded into a driveway on the right. The house ahead appeared dark and empty. Probably someone’s vacation home or a rental.
He snapped off his seatbelt and swiveled toward her on the bench seat. His dark eyes snapped and his jaw clenched. “I am not in love with Sabrina.”
Francie blinked, wanting to believe him, but she didn’t. “You wouldn’t be this angry if it didn’t touch a nerve.”
Dylan’s lips pressed together and he stared out the front window, his chest heaving, as if trying to rein in his temper. She should be the angry one, not him.
“Brianna said you used to tell Sabrina over and over how much you loved her.”
One corner of his mouth curled and he shook his head. “We were seventeen. She was a preacher’s kid. She wouldn’t sleep with me unless I told her I loved her. So yeah, I told her I loved her a lot.”
Romancing the Holidays: Twelve Christmas Romances - Benefits Breast Cancer Research Page 41