Once Again In Christmas Falls (Return To Christmas Falls Book 3)

by Becky Monson

  “And how do you feel about it now?”

  “It still feels a lot like home.”

  “Well, you know what they say about home . . . it’s a place your feet may leave, but your heart will always be.” She winked at me, and I felt warmth spread like a blanket all around me.

  Christmas Falls was home to me. It had always been home.

  “But there are so many things to think about, so much that I’d need to do to be able to move here. Where would I even live? Maybe it’s too—”

  “Hard?” She cut me off, giving me a wide smile.

  “Right,” I said. That sounded an awful lot like an excuse to run away from Christmas Falls.

  “Honey, you have to put in the work for something that’s worth it.”

  That made me think of Andy. It was all new, I knew that. But wouldn’t I regret not trying? Why would I base anything in my life on whether it would work out or not? I couldn’t predict the future. And for once, I wanted to be around to see how it would pan out. Even if it didn’t turn out how I wanted.

  “And anyway, if needing a place to live is holding you back, well,” she held up her arms, palms up toward the ceiling. “I’ve got plenty of room for you here.”

  “Miss Anna Cate—”

  “Now don’t you even start. I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t mean it.”

  “That . . . thank you, Miss Anna Cate.” My eyes filled up again. I didn’t want to ask this out loud for fear that it would take me off the path that I felt I was heading down, but I asked it anyway. “Do you think that moving back here is still me running away from something?”

  “Maybe,” she said with a shrug. “But maybe it’s not running this time. Maybe it’s starting new.” She paused, looking me in the eyes. “Maybe you’ve been running because you couldn’t find the place where your heart belonged. Maybe you just needed to come home.”

  ~*~

  Dessert with Piper and Ashley was just what I needed. The resort was amazing, the food was outstanding. Seeing Ashley made me hopeful that when I finally got to see the rest of the gang it would be an unforgettable reunion. It made me excited to be here for Christmas and to sing in the pageant. I was doing this for Miss Anna Cate, but this was also for me. For us—our gang of girls. Our bracelet gang. I wish I hadn’t tossed mine away.

  I left the resort with a full belly and my heart a little bit lighter. I didn’t mention anything to either of them about my conversation with Miss Anna Cate. Even though my heart warmed when I thought of moving here and starting new, thought of seeing where things went with Andy—if he even gave me a chance—I was still waffling. What could I say? I was a waffler. It was my thing.

  Although I’d hoped—and maybe prayed—to run into him, Andy was nowhere to be seen. I only looked over the parking lot twice to see if I could find his car. Okay, I scanned it three times before I reprimanded myself for being so pathetic.

  I’d really screwed that up, and I didn’t know how I was going to fix it . . . if I’d be even able to. Before, Christmas Falls without Andy wasn’t a big deal for me because I hadn’t anticipated seeing him. Now it was like Christmas Falls and Andy were synonymous. I didn’t want one without the other. But I also couldn’t put that all on Andy. I couldn’t move back here for him. I had to do this for me. I had to hope that if I did take the plunge, he’d be here as my friend, or hopefully even more than that.

  One thing was for sure, I couldn’t go talk to him until I knew. Until I knew what I was going to do. I had to stop waffling and make a decision.

  I wanted to go to the falls, where I used to go to think things through. But the memories of what happened last time I was there—being in Andy’s arms, kissing him for the first time—haunted me. I knew that if I went there I wouldn’t have a clear mind. I’d keep picturing myself in his arms . . . the spine-tingling chill that ran through me the first time our lips met . . . his breath on my neck . . . Maybe there wasn’t anywhere to go without thinking about that. It had been on repeat in my brain since it happened. And then, because my brain was cruel, it would follow that up with the picture of Andy’s face from last night—that look of hurt that I’d never forget. No spine-tingling chills there. Just an empty pit in my stomach, a heaviness in my heart.

  Not knowing where to go and not wanting to go back to my room where other reminders of Andy were, I went to the community center and sat on the steps to the entrance. I did have memories here—good ones. Memories of Miss Anna Cate, of my gang—Ashley, Piper, Lexi, Morgan, Caitlin, and Olivia—singing “I’ll Be Home for Christmas” with those Santa hats and the silly dance we did. Andy and I had spent time here too, helping with after-school programs that Miss Anna Cate had set up. All good memories. They couldn’t shut this place down—there had to be something we could do. Sadly, I had no resources. There was nothing I could do to save it.

  As I sat there watching the stars twinkle over the town and the Christmas lights sparkle all around me, I felt the strongest need to try to at least do something. It would be easy for me to walk away from this, citing that I had nothing to give, but that wasn’t true. I could do something. And I knew just what I’d do. It wouldn’t be easy, and things might go wrong, but I was okay with that. I wasn’t going to run from this.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  My plan came together quickly and almost seamlessly. I must have had a guardian angel, because usually these kinds of things never worked out for me. And then I’d “pull a London” when they didn’t. But there would be none of that this time.

  The next morning, I woke up early and drove into Gatlinburg. I had texted Don the night before, telling him I needed to talk to him and asking him to meet me at his office at nine the next morning. He replied with a simple “sure.” It was almost impossible to sleep; my mind had been going over and over what I wanted to say to him and what I needed him to do. There were so many variables, but I had to at least try. Normally all the roadblocks would have had me running in the other direction, but not today. I was determined. I was also determined about some other things in my life, but all that would have to be put off until later. I needed to focus on the task at hand, and that was the community center.

  When I got to Don’s office a half hour early, I found him already there. He was ready to talk, so I took a deep breath and went in.

  The deep breath was for naught. Don was on board from the minute I told him what I wanted to do, and what I was doing it for. I never even had to show him the picture of the community center I had taken to gain his sympathy. Apparently, Don had something similar in the town he grew up in and he had fond memories of the place.

  It took some help from his wife, Caroline, and some favors pulled in on Don’s part, but two hours later, we were set up and ready to go.

  We had put up a backdrop of sorts, a very Christmas-y looking one, right off the main strip in Gatlinburg. There were props and trees and fake snow all around. I had made signs, printed them, and posted them everywhere. The sign said, “Get a picture by Don Shields, one day only!” He would take one picture—sent digitally—for a flat fee of twenty-five dollars, with a note that all the proceeds would go to the community center in Christmas Falls.

  Really, it wouldn’t be for the day—it would only be for four hours because Don had a client in the early evening. A client I would be helping him with, because part of the deal for today was that I would take the job as his assistant. Well, I made it seem like part of the deal; I was prepared to beg him to take me back, if necessary.

  No one showed up for the first twenty minutes, and I was beginning to think that maybe nothing would come of it. I had to be okay with at least trying and not running from the idea. But not long after that, people started showing up, and then word spread until we had a line so long I wondered if we would ever get through them all by the time we had to go to the family photo shoot later that day.

  Somehow, we got through them and made it to the shoot in time. I counted the money up as Don drove us to the location for the shoot.
It wasn’t going to save the community center, but it was a nice chunk of change, especially for a day’s work and something that had been pulled together last minute. Don also contributed some money even though I protested—he had donated his time, which meant more than he could know—but he was insistent. I took all the money I had made working for Don and added that was well.

  I couldn’t wait to take it to Miss Anna Cate, so after the shoot I raced back to Christmas Falls and went straight to her house.

  “Here,” I said as I handed her the envelope of money after she let me into her home.

  Looking confused, her brows pulling together, she said, “What’s this all about?”

  “This is for you.” I took a deep breath—it felt like I hadn’t taken a good one all day. I was surviving on adrenaline and caffeine since I’d gotten so little sleep the night before.

  She took the envelope out of my hands and opened it, gasping when she saw the contents.

  “It’s for the community center,” I said, feeling tears prick behind my eyes when I saw her look of astonishment.

  “How did . . . where . . .”

  I sat her down and explained the whole thing. How I asked Don to help me, and how I even found him in the first place.

  “Well, this is just wonderful,” she said, shaking the envelope at me.

  “There’s something else, though,” I said, hoping she hadn’t changed her mind since yesterday.

  “Go on,” she said with a look that said she was expecting what was coming.

  “He offered me a job, and . . . I took it. And so now I was wondering—”

  “If you can live here?”

  “Just temporarily, until I find a place of my own,” I said.

  “Honey, you can stay as long as you like. As long as you can handle this old gal puttering around the house.” She gave me a wink.

  “I think I’d love to be here, to help you however I can,” I said, and I meant it. The fear that someday I’d have to say goodbye—possibly soon—to Miss Anna Cate was still there, and there were still moments that I felt that tug . . . the tug to run. But I knew that I couldn’t miss out on what time I had left with her, however long that was. I didn’t know what the future held, but I wanted to find out.

  I didn’t stay long because there was something else I had to do. There was someone else I needed to talk to.

  I pulled up near Andy’s family’s home and sat in my rental car a few doors down trying to work up the courage to knock on the door. My stomach was swirling with butterflies—it was a mixture of the sickening kind and the good kind. Just imagining seeing his face and what he might say to me was doing all kinds of things to my nerves.

  Finally pulling myself together, I pulled the car up to the front of the house and made my way to the door.

  “Well, London, to what do we owe this pleasure?” Linda Broll asked after she opened the door and found me standing there.

  “I’m looking for Andy,” I said, feeling like I had lost my manners, but I couldn’t do small talk. There were things that needed to be said, and I needed to find Andy to say them.

  “He’s not here,” she said looking down at her watch. “He left a half hour ago.”

  “Any idea where he went?” I asked, feeling my stomach sink. This was not how I pictured all this going down. I pictured him here and us going up to his room—leaving the door open, of course—and me telling him that I’m an idiot and begging him to, at the very least, be my friend again. At the very least I needed that. But he wasn’t there.

  “He said he had to go into town for something,” she said, giving me a little shrug. “Do you want to wait for him? I was going to make cookies if you want to help.”

  “That sounds fun, but I think I’ll go try to find him,” I said, feeling antsy. I needed to see him. I needed to see his face.

  She smiled. “Okay then. Maybe you can cheer him up. He’s been in quite the mood these past couple of days. He wouldn’t tell us what crawled up his butt, but something’s up there, I’ll tell ya.”

  I couldn’t help but giggle and hope that his being upset had something to do with me. Because that would mean he was feeling like I was.

  “I’ll do what I can.” But even as I said it, I wasn’t sure I could do anything. I only hoped I could.

  “We’ll see you tomorrow, right?”

  “Tomorrow?”

  “Christmas Eve? Andy said you were coming over,” she furrowed her brow.

  “Oh, yeah . . . yes,” I nodded my head. “I’ll be here.” I felt my stomach turn. I very well might not be coming, and would have to spend Christmas at the cottage. Or maybe Miss Anna Cate would have me.

  We said our goodbyes and I hopped back in my car and went back to the Poinsettia Cottage and parked there. It would take me all of thirty seconds to drive down the main strip of Christmas Falls—my mom would often say “don’t blink or you’ll miss it,” when referring to the town. I decided driving up and down the street would probably not work, and that it was better for me to do this on foot. And I would search every store if I had to.

  I started at the diner and worked my way down. Most of the stores were closed at this point, but I kept going. When I got to the end of the street—to the feed store—there was no sign of him. My heart sank. I knew I’d run into him at some point, but I wanted to see him now.

  Distraught and tired—the adrenaline was dissipating quickly and the sleepless night followed by an incredibly busy day was starting to sink in—I dragged my feet down the street toward the cottage. As I got to the end, though, I decided that I would take a detour and go to the falls. I was pretty sure Andy wouldn’t be there, but I could at least look. And at the very least I could stare at the pretty falls for a minute and maybe find some solace in them. Screw all the memories it would assuredly give me.

  It was dark and there wasn’t much lighting up there except for one lone lamp, but the moon was fairly bright. As I approached, the sound of the water hitting the pool below filled me with warmth and peace that felt at odds with the rush and angst of the day.

  I looked over to the bench and took a quick intake of breath. A lone figure in a winter coat, hat, scarf, and gloves sat there drinking what looked like hot chocolate. I could only see his profile, but the reflection of the moon was shining off those black-rimmed glasses.

  I walked over to the bench and took a seat next to him.

  “Hi,” I said.

  Andy kept his eyes on the falls as he returned the greeting. “Hey,” he said. At least he was speaking to me.

  I breathed deeply. There was so much to say.

  “Andy,” I started.

  “Don’t,” he said, cutting me off. “It’s . . . fine.”

  “It’s not fine,” I said, feeling tears fill my eyes. His stance . . . his face . . . how was I going to make him understand? “I have things to say to you.”

  He let out a breath. “Okay,” he said reluctantly.

  “I’m sorry,” I started. It felt so contrived to say those words, but they were important and true and they needed to be said.

  “Me too,” he said.

  “I think we’re sorry for different reasons.”

  I knew his sorry was for more than just the other day. There was regret in his tone. He was sorry for all of it. A tear trickled down my cheek. I knew then that I was probably not going to be able to save whatever we’d started, but I would at the very least try to save the friendship. I would try, and try, and try. I was not giving up. My heart wanted more, but I couldn’t give him up entirely.

  “Listen,” I said, feeling him stiffen next to me. He didn’t want to hear it, but he was going to. “I know I’m not your favorite person right now. I’m not even my own favorite person.” This was not entirely true. I felt horrible about Andy and everything that had happened there—but the choices I’d made that day, the decisions I’d made—I was proud of that. I had done things that were out of my comfort zone and I hadn’t run from it. I hadn’t “pulled a London.
”

  He turned his face toward me. It was hard to read his eyes in the moonlight, but I imagine there wasn’t much love shining there. Or even much like at this point.

  I continued anyway. “But I’ve been thinking. And I know how it seemed, the other night at the cottage. I know how it looked. But Andy,” I reached over and grabbed his hand. He didn’t pull away, which helped to boost my confidence. “You were never something I was using to run away. From my life in San Fran, or my parents. The letter I got from Miss Anna Cate—that’s what got me here. I didn’t expect to find you here, I didn’t expect to feel the things I feel for you. All that? It was real. It is real.”

  He looked back out to the falls. “How do you know? How do you know for sure?” he asked, sitting back on the bench, a little less rigid.

  “Because I’ve never felt anything like it before.”

  He looked down at my hand in his; he still hadn’t pulled away.

  “And I don’t want to run from you. I want to run to you. Sure, I let thoughts get in my head, worrying about all the what ifs, all of the risks, but for once I want to stick around and find out.”

  I couldn’t see his eyes. Why couldn’t we have done this when there was more than just moonlight and one lamp to see by? I couldn’t read his face, but I could tell there was a change in his body language. He seemed to be more relaxed and not so stiff as he was when I first sat down. Maybe I was getting through to him.

  “Wait,” he said, his face turning toward mine. “Did you just say you’re sticking around?”

  I smiled, nodding slowly. “I took the job with Don. And Miss Anna Cate offered me a room at her place. And Andy,” I squeezed his hand, “I don’t want you to feel any pressure, we can take this slow—whatever this is—or we can just be friends or we ca—”

  I was cut off once again by Andy’s lips. They were on mine so fast, so intensely, I knew right then that he wanted so much more than friendship. My heart soared, because if friendship had been the only thing offered, I’d have taken it. But I wanted so much more.