Candlelight Christmas lc-10

by Susan Wiggs

  “Dive into work,” Suzanne suggested. “That’s what I do.”

  “What, to escape your humdrum existence?” Adam asked. “I’ll be sure to tell Jeff that.”

  “Hey.” She swatted him with a coat hanger.

  “Diving into my work isn’t exactly an escape,” said Logan.

  “You’re a good businessman,” Adam pointed out. “That must feel good, right? Everybody I know uses you.”

  “‘For all your insurance needs,’” Logan finished, quoting his own slogan. “I’m so freaking bored with my business, I can’t even tell you. I got into it because I wanted to be near Charlie. It’s a stable, predictable racket with regular hours. But since he moved away with his mom, it’s just a job.”

  “Then find a job you like,” Adam said simply. “That’s what I did.” He’d been an executive for a big multinational corporation, but seemed a lot more content these days as a firefighter and an arson investigator.

  “I’m thinking about taking over Saddle Mountain,” said Logan. Every time he thought about it, the idea fixed itself more firmly in his mind.

  “The ski resort?” asked Suzanne. “You’re joking.”

  “Maybe not.”

  “You’re crazy,” she said.

  “I bet people told you that when you said you were opening your shop,” Adam pointed out.

  “You’d lose,” she retorted, though she seemed to like his teasing.

  “I’d better catch up with Charlie,” said Logan.

  “I’ll join you,” Adam said. “Hungry again. And I want to hear more about your new plan.”

  They found Charlie waiting at the bakery, seated at a painted enamel table and eyeing the fragrant, glistening contents in the display case. The café seating area was busy with its morning crowd of locals and tourists. The walls featured a series of stunning photographs by Daisy Bellamy—Logan’s ex. Even though she’d moved away, reminders of her lingered everywhere. She was a Bellamy, after all; in Avalon, they were ubiquitous.

  As he studied the beautifully photographed nature scenes, Logan felt a curious detachment. He didn’t miss her. He didn’t still love her. But he missed the life of the family they’d made, the day-to-day routines, the companionship, the fun they’d had with Charlie.

  Adam went to the counter and ordered coffee and kolaches, and Charlie’s usual—an iced maple bar and a mug of hot chocolate. “So, when are you going to set this new plan in motion?” he asked Logan.

  “New plan doing what?” Charlie asked, then took a big bite of the soft pastry.

  Logan gave a slight shake of his head. Not now.

  “His new plan to be as awesome as me,” Adam said, clinking cups with Charlie. “Your dad says he needs a cooler job.” He consumed half a kolache in one bite.

  “Yeah, like a time traveler or a shape-shifter,” Charlie suggested.

  “I already do that,” said Logan. “But don’t tell anybody.”

  “Really?”

  “You don’t think I sit at a desk all day studying actuary tables, do you? That’s just a cover for my true identity.”

  “What’s your true identity?”

  “The Silver Snowboarder.”

  “You like snowboarding with your dad?” Adam asked him.

  Charlie nodded. “It’s the best.”

  “Better than that maple bar?”

  “Well...almost.”

  Adam finished his coffee. “I need to roll, my brothers.” He bumped knuckles with Charlie, then gravely shook his hand. “You take care, now. Work hard in school, and I’ll see you when you come back around.”

  “Okay, Adam. Don’t let the place burn down while I’m gone.”

  “Never happen.” He left a tip on the table. “MTB later?” he asked Logan.

  “Indubitably.” Mountain-biking was exactly what he’d need later in the day, when Charlie’s departure for Oklahoma hurt like a fresh, gaping wound in his chest. He and Adam had begun a tradition of tearing up the trails in the hills above Avalon after work, in all kinds of weather.

  Charlie dawdled over finishing his snack, and Logan didn’t rush him. Though neither had mentioned it, they both knew they were only minutes away from the dreaded long goodbye.

  As soon as they left the bakery, the inevitable process would begin. Charlie’s mom was waiting for him at the Inn at Willow Lake, which was owned by her folks. Daisy always stayed there when she came to town. Logan’s duty was to hand the kid over and pretend it was great, a big adventure for Charlie. “Coparenting” was one of those terms that sounded like a good idea until it was actually put into practice. In actual fact, every time he said goodbye to Charlie, it ripped out a piece of his heart.

  His phone vibrated, signaling a text message. Daisy’s ID came up. We’re hoping to make the noon train to the city. Possible?

  Shit.

  “We need to go, buddy.” Logan added to the tip on the table. “Don’t forget your stuff.”

  Charlie grabbed his Camp Kioga baseball cap and put it on. “Ready,” he said.

  They got in the car. Logan drove a banana-yellow Jeep, good for getting around when the winter snows came.

  Avalon looked like one of his ex-wife’s flawless photos today, the leaves just starting to turn, the lake placid and flat, the covered bridge over the Schuyler River drawing the last of the summer tourists. It would still be hot in Oklahoma, flat and scrubby around the air force base.

  “Excited about fifth grade?” Logan asked.

  “Oh yeah. Can’t wait.”

  “I know, buddy. School’s your job. You’ll do great. You’re going out for soccer this fall?”

  “Sure. Soccer’s cool.”

  Soccer had been Logan’s life when he was a kid, right up through high school. He still remembered the rush of a good play, the euphoria of drilling a goal home. His father rarely missed a game. It was the one thing that kept them close. Ultimately, though, the sport had become too important. Logan’s need to perform superseded common sense. In high school, his determination to impress his father had pushed him to play injured, and that had led to a ripped-up knee, multiple surgeries and a dangerous dependence on painkillers.

  Logan resigned himself to missing all of Charlie’s games. Maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing. He would find other activities to do with Charlie. Kioga in the summer, snowboarding or Florida in winter, daily phone calls, being there for his son whenever he could. He hoped like hell their time together would be enough.

  They pulled up at the inn, a historic property in a grand mansion by the lake. The main building, with its wraparound porch and belvedere tower, was reflected in the glassy water. Hiding the heaviness in his heart, Logan grabbed Charlie’s duffel bag and backpack and went up the walk. Charlie’s mom came out the door.

  Daisy looked amazing, no surprise. She’d always been smoking hot, even in high school, and she’d been as reckless and rebellious as Logan, which had led to the unplanned pregnancy in the first place. She wore her blond hair short, and her face was wreathed in smiles. Now, however, there was something new about her. The angry, reckless girl had turned into a woman—a mom. She was holding a baby on her hip. Behind her was her husband, Air Force Captain Julian Gastineaux, tall and dark, casual in civilian clothes today.

  “Charlie boy!” Daisy flung her free arm around Charlie and hugged him close to both her and the baby.

  Logan stood back, watching. An outsider.

  “Look at your sister,” Daisy said. “She’s grown so much.”

  Charlie grinned and kissed the down-fuzz head. “Hiya, Princess Caroline,” he said, then looked back at Logan. “Dad, check it out, she’s really cute.”

  “Totally cute,” Logan agreed.

  Charlie broke away to give Julian a hug. “Hi, Daddy-boy.” His nickname for Julian had always been Daddy-boy. Logan hated that.

  “Man, look at you,” Julian said. “You’re tall, my man.”

  Logan and Julian acknowledged each other with a nod. The two of them were not exactly frie
nds, but they shared a mutual respect and a love for Charlie.

  “Congratulations,” Logan said. “Your baby’s really cute.”

  “Thanks.”

  Charlie took command of his sister, holding her with care. He showed her and Julian the paddle he’d painted and all the campers had autographed. Each camper went home with one.

  “So, his stuff is here,” Logan said to Daisy. “He’s all set.”

  “Thanks.” She gazed up at him, her blue eyes a stranger’s eyes now. “How are you?”

  “Good.” It still felt surreal, talking to this person who had once been his whole world. He used to be on intimate terms with her not just physically, but with her every thought, her every dream and desire. Now she was just someone he didn’t really know anymore. She had truly moved on. The baby was stark evidence of that. Daisy had made a new life for herself.

  Logan couldn’t say for certain that he’d done the same. He still lived in the house he and Daisy had bought together and remodeled, dreaming of the future. He still had the same job. Same friends. Same life—minus the family.

  “You look good,” she said. “Summer camp agrees with you and Charlie both.”

  That, at least, was gratifying. Toward the end of his marriage, Logan had let himself go, not bothering to pay attention to his diet, forgetting to exercise. Once he emerged from the fog of divorce, he’d taken out his frustration by mountain-biking, rowing on the lake, scrambling up rocks and mountainsides. He’d embraced single fatherhood with a vengeance, studying nutrition and cooking as if his son’s life depended on it. Cool that Daisy had noticed the improvement.

  “Charlie had a great time at Camp Kioga. Be sure he tells you about all his adventures.”

  “I will.”

  Julian was already loading things into the car. Daisy’s stepmother, Nina, came out on the porch and gave Logan a wave. She had a baby of her own, a little boy about a year old. One big happy family. Logan felt like a chump, standing there, a complete outsider, his connection to the Bellamys now so tenuous. There had been a time when he’d come here for holiday gatherings, dinners and picnics on the lawn. Now his only role was to hand over Charlie and walk away.

  “Um, so Julian got new orders,” Daisy said. Her gaze shifted from side to side, then to the ground.

  Logan still knew her well enough to read nervousness in her manner. “What’s that mean?”

  “We’re moving.”

  “Why do I sense this is not good news?”

  “The new assignment’s Yokota Air Force Base.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Where the hell is that?”

  She swallowed visibly. “It’s in Fussa. Er, that’s in Japan.”

  “Fuck.”

  She winced, and he didn’t even bother to apologize for the profanity. To Logan, the real profanity was losing his son.

  “The custody arrangement will still work the same,” she hurriedly stated. “He’s with you holidays and summers. It’s just...the travel time will be longer.”

  “That’s great, Daze. Just freaking great.”

  “There are daily nonstops from Tokyo to the States. I checked. We’ll make it work, Logan. I swear we will.”

  He shot a glare in Julian’s direction. As an officer in the air force, he had an exciting career. Good for him. But not so good for Logan and Charlie. “When?” he demanded.

  “Right after Christmas break. Charlie will go to school on base. He’ll learn a new culture, a new language. I’ve already found him a tutor to give him Japanese lessons. He’ll see a whole new world over there. It’s an amazing opportunity for him.” She spoke hurriedly, enumerating the advantages as if she’d memorized them, one by one.

  “More amazing than spending time with his dad?”

  “You’ll still have him for the same number of days.”

  “Have you told him yet?”

  “No. We will today.”

  Logan raked a hand through his hair. “Jesus.”

  “We need to make this a positive thing for Charlie.”

  “Right.” Composing himself with an effort, he went to say goodbye to his son. He walked over to Charlie and sank down on one knee. “I sure had a great time with you,” he said. “What an awesome summer.”

  “Yep. Um, can you keep my paddle? There’s no room to take it with me.”

  The kid had no idea that he was destined to move half a world away. He’d probably have to leave a lot more behind. “Sure. I’ll keep it safe for you, buddy.”

  Charlie stared down at the ground. His chin trembled. “Thanks, Dad.”

  Goodbyes were always the hardest. Logan’s job was to assure his son that everything was perfectly fine—even if it wasn’t. “You’re going to have the time of your life in fifth grade, buddy. And you’ve got a new little sister to play with.”

  “I guess.”

  “We’ll talk every day,” he said. “Just like always.”

  “And I’ll see you at Thanksgiving.” Charlie’s effort at being positive was heartbreaking.

  “Indubitably.”

  “And then we’ll be together at Christmas.”

  “That’s right. Maybe we’ll have Christmas in Avalon instead of Florida this year. I could get us season passes at Saddle Mountain. Maybe I’ll just get us the whole resort.”

  “Okay.” A tremulous smile curved Charlie’s mouth.

  Logan took the little boy in his arms. Despite everyone’s exclamations over how he’d grown, Charlie felt so small and fragile. He was being taken away to the other side of the world, where Logan couldn’t see him or touch him, inhale the little boy smell of him, lie next to him while he fell asleep at night. “I’ll miss you, buddy.”

  “Me, too.”

  “Okay. One more kiss and a hug.”

  A big squeeze. Logan pressed his lips to his son’s warm, silky red hair. “So long, pal.” He pasted on a smile and pretended a piece of his heart was not being torn out. Then he stood up and headed for his car. At the edge of the parking lot, he turned and watched Charlie and his other family bustling around. Just for a moment, Charlie paused and looked back. He offered a big smile, and then their special salute, index finger and pinky in the air as if at a rock concert. Then Charlie turned back to the family and was swept into the business of leaving.

  The hole in Logan’s chest felt as big and jagged as the Grand Canyon.

  “Fuck,” he said again, and without thinking, broke the painted paddle in two.

  “You look as if you could use a friend,” said a voice behind him.

  He swung around. Darcy Fitzgerald was walking toward him, carrying an overnight bag. “Or an anger-management class,” she added, eyeing the broken paddle.

  “Just handed my son off to his mom,” Logan said. “Never the best start to the day.”

  “I’m sorry. I know it’s hard.”

  Hell no, she had no idea. He wasn’t going to argue with her, though. “I’ll deal,” he said, picking up the pieces of Charlie’s paddle, the paddle he’d promised to safeguard. To change the subject, he asked, “You’re going back to the city?”

  “That’s right.” She tilted her face to the sun. “Hard to leave on a day like today.”

  He kind of hated it that Darcy had come upon him in such a vulnerable moment, his emotions raw from having Charlie ripped from him.

  “India said Charlie lives part-time in Oklahoma.”

  “That’s right.”

  “Must be so challenging for you.”

  “Every time I say goodbye to Charlie, it kills me a little bit.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I need to get going,” he said.

  “Back to work?”

  “That’s right.”

  “So, your sister said you’re in business for yourself?”

  She was probably just making polite conversation. But her question annoyed him. Maybe she was fishing for information on him. Did he have a steady, stable job? Was he a good prospect? A catch?

  Some devil made him reply
, “As a matter of fact, I’m just about to change jobs. That local ski area I mentioned? I’ll be taking it over.”

  He had no idea where those words had come from. Probably the idea had been simmering on the back burner of his mind for a long time. But all of a sudden it was the truest thing he’d said since telling Daisy Bellamy, “Let’s have the baby and raise it together,” eleven years ago.

  Hearing a guy declare he was going to take on such a risky enterprise was bound to send a woman running for cover. Trying to make a living by running a ski resort was like betting on horses or playing the lottery.

  Darcy’s reaction was the last thing he’d expected. “That’s awesome,” she said.

  “Awesome as in a wise investment, or awesome as in bat-shit crazy?”

  She laughed. “Depends on who you ask.”

  “I’m asking you.”

  “Why? Does my opinion matter?”

  Not really, he thought. There had been a time, long ago, when he’d put great stock in opinions—of parents, teachers, coaches. There had been a time when his father’s opinion had mattered so much that Logan had lost himself. He could admit that now. He had been lost in some mythic quest for perfect—on the soccer field, in school, in business.

  Then out of the worst thing to happen in his life had come the best thing he’d ever done—Charlie. Since he became a dad, every move he made had been for Charlie’s sake.

  Telling Darcy about the ski resort made Logan feel a spark of...something. That touch or spike that happened when an idea struck a chord. He hadn’t felt it in a long time. Since Charlie had left, Logan had tried to do the right thing—take care of his business and his life, contribute to his 401(k), go to the dentist for regular checkups. He’d done everything by the book and look what it had brought him. Charlie was moving farther away—proof that doing the right thing did not automatically cause the right thing to happen. For all of his efforts, he had nothing but routine predictability. It was time to shake things up. He’d been good long enough.

  “I’m ready to take the risk,” he told Darcy. “Are you a risk taker?”

  “I have been.” She touched her bottom lip with her finger, an absent gesture. “Not lately, though. I used to be a frequent flier when it comes to taking risks. But sometimes that means you come crashing down. Still, I think I liked myself better when I was a risk taker.”