Wedding at Mistletoe Chalet

by Dani Collins

  It had also been a fork in the road, one he’d come upon very unexpectedly, but that had had huge flashing lights and warnings to Slow Down.

  He’d been tempted—insanely tempted—to veer off with Kristen. It hadn’t been purely physical, either. He had always loved being around her. All those years she thought he was being tolerant of a tagalong, he’d been enjoying the way she made him laugh and made him think. She challenged him and commiserated with him and sometimes she had looked to him for reassurance or advice, making him feel protective and reliable and strong. She made him feel good about who he was and confident in who he could be.

  He’d been enjoying her company purely out of friendship that lazy day when somehow their gazes had locked. Their lips had touched and his world had incinerated in a flash. In those passionate seconds, every immature romance he’d experienced until that point had disintegrated.

  This was serious. He hadn’t picked it apart in the moment, not enough to understand much more than that it was different from anything he knew. Life changing. He’d cooled his jets and slowed everything down.

  Slow was the last thing he wanted now, but he had the rest of his residency to finish. And after that? Kristen was a grounded, thoughtful person. Instead of leaping into a career change, she was testing the waters. He doubted she fully appreciated how trying a physician’s schedule could be. Half the time he came home so exhausted, he was no use to anyone.

  Failing with Kristen wasn’t something he could handle, not again. So he kept telling himself that not trying was the safer option for both of them.

  But they stood at a fresh crossroads and this time, his gut told him, taking the path away from her would be the wrong one.

  Chapter Ten

  Wendy had gone upstairs with her in-laws so Kristen was starting the evening appetizers with help from Sarah and her cousin, Devon.

  Devon was ten and looked a lot like her mom, who had brought in a dish of cooked meat on skewers that she said was a family recipe from Cambodia. It was warming in the oven, filling the kitchen with tangy aromas Kristen couldn’t place, but they made her mouth water.

  Devon resembled Sarah in more subtle ways, like her laugh and gestures and affectionate assault on Bonzo.

  “Finn!” Sarah said as he came down the stairs from putting the arbor in Kristen’s room. “This is Devon.”

  “Hi, Devon.” He shook her hand.

  “Hi,” she said shyly.

  “We’re going to make a cake, then play Mad Libs. Want to join us?” Sarah invited him.

  “Which part? Because I have made exactly zero cakes in my life. I’m liable to be more cheerleader, less chef on that one.”

  “For the game,” Sarah said with a giggle.

  “Um—” He glanced at the window, the clock, then Kristen. There was a question in his gaze that made her heart beat in hard, body-rocking thumps.

  Sarah’s expression fell. “You’re not leaving! I asked Wendy if you were staying for dinner and she said she hoped so. It’s icy. Remember?”

  Kristen bit her lip. She ought to be bailing him out by reminding Sarah that tomorrow was Christmas Eve.

  “Stay for dinner. Please?” Sarah pressed.

  “I do want to try whatever is in that oven. It smells fantastic. I haven’t eaten this well in a long time.” He slapped his stomach. “But I’m going to have a Santa belly if I’m not careful.”

  As if, Kristen silently dismissed.

  “Stay. I want everyone to meet you,” Sarah insisted.

  “Okay. For dinner. I’d love to meet more of your family,” he relented to Sarah.

  “You’re not going to stay the night?” Sarah frowned in disappointment. “But what about…” She wobbled her head and widened her eyes.

  “What?” Devon prompted, sensing a secret.

  “Finn’s family expected him a few days ago, Sarah,” Kristen pointed out. They knew he was safe, but they would still be anxious for him to arrive.

  “I know you’ve been working hard. I’d like to see how it all turns out, but my mom is going to ground me if I’m not home for Christmas,” Finn told the girl.

  Sarah laughed, but stuck her bottom lip out in a big pout.

  Devon tugged at her sleeve. “See how what turns out?”

  “I’ll tell you upstairs,” Sarah said, voice a little heavier. “We’ll be right back, Kristen. I need to get the recipe for the cake. You could stay tonight and leave really early?” Sarah said to Finn as she started up the stairs. “Dad won’t mind. I’ll tell him not to.”

  “I’ll think about it,” Finn said, glancing at Kristen.

  “He’ll stay,” Sarah said confidently to Devon and they ran excitedly up the stairs.

  Finn sighed. “I’m going to be a pushover as a parent if I ever get there.”

  “I feel guilty for being the reason you got stranded here,” Kristen said.

  “I feel like this is September all over again.”

  She stopped what she was doing and tried to breathe past the jagged lump that rose behind her breastbone.

  I don’t want to break up. Do you? Let’s keep this going as long as we can.

  “You know my family would love to see you, right?” His expression was earnest. “There’s room in the car,” he coaxed.

  Kristen was tempted. So tempted.

  “I told Wendy I’d help her finish her wrapping this evening.” It was one task the newly arrived relatives couldn’t do for her.

  “You have commitments here, I know.” Finn accepted her gentle refusal without argument. “I’m not trying to pressure you. I just want you to know you’re welcome.”

  “Thank you.” She was grateful, if a little melancholy that he didn’t press harder. What did she want? An ultimatum? Of course not. He was respecting her need to make her own decisions, exactly as he had done in the past.

  And yes, this might feel like their long ago September, but they had ultimately failed. Did he remember that?

  Into the thick silence, the clatter from below indicated that Ted had returned.

  “I’ll catch a ride back to the shed, get cleaned up,” Finn said, thumbing toward the lower floor.

  She nodded, but before he got the door open, an older man came into the kitchen. He was a tanned, silver-bearded version of Ted.

  Kristen smiled, having already met him briefly. “Finn, this is Ted’s father, Gary.”

  Gary shook hands, but he was anxious to say hello to his son. Finn went downstairs with him and they all must have gone out to the cat shed together because Kristen didn’t see any of them before she went up to her room with Wendy.

  “I have to sneak in and make sure my closet door is closed,” Kristen said. “There’s something in there you shouldn’t see.”

  “Finn?” Wendy guessed.

  Kristen blushed and forced a laugh, but felt a rush of despondency. “Of course not.”

  Moments later, she called out that it was safe to come in.

  “Was I off-side with that comment?” Wendy asked with concern as she came in. “I’m about as subtle as Sarah when it comes to matchmaking, but you seem like you’d make a really nice couple. I’m sorry if I’m pushing something that’s not in the cards.”

  “I honestly don’t know,” Kristen admitted. “I can’t help thinking about what you said about you and Ted. That you felt so let down when he didn’t ask you to stay and that’s how you realized how much he meant to you. Finn just asked me to spend Christmas with his family. I turned him down. Now I feel sick about it.”

  “I wouldn’t hold you to staying through New Year’s if it’s not what you want.” Wendy paused in unrolling a sheet of wrapping paper.

  “I would feel like a total jerk if I left you at the last second! And it’s not that I don’t want to be here. I want to be in two places,” she admitted. “Even if I spent Christmas with him, we’d still have to go back to our old lives afterward. It’s not like he’s asking me to start a life together. We couldn’t even date. Not easily. I’m in
Oregon; he’s in Denver. We tried long distance once and it didn’t work.”

  “But he’s almost finished his residency.”

  “And doesn’t know yet where he’ll go!”

  “Those sorts of things can be worked out, if you want to work on them,” Wendy said gently.

  “I know. But he asked me to join his family for Christmas. It doesn’t mean he wants, you know, me. Maybe he’s just being nice.”

  “He is nice. That’s not up for debate. But I guarantee you there’s more behind his invitation,” Wendy assured her as she reached into a bag. “He’s crazy about you.”

  Wendy set a flat box onto the paper. Its front showed the word ‘Dream’ in a scrolling font made from wrought iron.

  “I wondered why that bag was so heavy.”

  “That one’s for Devon.” Wendy pointed to a second one that read, ‘Love.’

  Kristen began wrapping it on the other side of the table.

  “He hasn’t given any indication that he’d like to see you more seriously?” Wendy asked.

  “Not really. In fact, he made a point of telling me that dating a doctor is rough. I imagine they’re always being called away when you least expect it. Like Christmas.”

  “Some people feel very strongly about the actual day. They like to go to church together or feel it’s a day you should reserve for family. I’ve never felt as strict about it, maybe because I didn’t have family to share it with. Maybe that’s why I’m so disorganized,” Wendy said with a laugh, glossing past the remark about not having family. “I love the season. I like socializing and cooking and baking. Gary brought some nut brittle that he makes every year. Have you tasted it yet? It’s insanely addictive.”

  They labeled the wrapped gifts and set them aside, reached for the next one.

  “But you often work on Christmas, right?” Wendy pointed out. “So you already know how that goes. Would it bother you if Finn had to work on Christmas or your birthday? Maybe you squeeze in your celebrating on a different day every year. It doesn’t mean the moment is lost or diminished. As long as you’re making time for each other when you can; that’s the important part, isn’t it?”

  “You’re right,” Kristen agreed morosely. “I’d feel equally disappointed if he was called away on Christmas morning or a random Tuesday.” Not that he was offering her random Tuesdays.

  “His schedule is a fact of who he is,” Wendy advised gently. “You have to be able to accept that or you’re not accepting him. Is Christmas morning a deal breaker for you?”

  “Of course not,” Kristen murmured, then brightened, saying ruefully, “See? How could I even think about leaving early when you’re being such a good friend? I want to make the most of this time here with you, too.”

  “You’re staying? Oh, thank goodness. I was trying to be brave and supportive, but I really didn’t want you to leave. I’m probably going to cry when you actually have to.”

  “Oh, stop. You’ll make me cry,” Kristen said with a little sniff. “Let’s get these gifts wrapped so we can join the party downstairs.”

  *

  Two hours later, they had all the gifts wrapped and neatly stacked in various piles. Some little tchotchkes would be left in the guest rooms as they did the housekeeping tomorrow; others were Santa gifts that would go under the tree tomorrow night.

  Wendy took a few down for games the kids would play tonight. Kristen hung back to finish tidying up.

  She dithered as she gathered scraps and bits of ribbon into a wastebasket. Finally, with a groan, she fetched the jersey she’d bought for Finn.

  If there hadn’t been a shoebox that fit it perfectly, she might have lost her nerve. Wrapping it made her feel excited and nervous and vulnerable. She didn’t want to put Finn in the position of feeling like she expected anything from him, but she wanted him to know her hard feelings were in the past and they were, if nothing else, friends again.

  Friends who rarely saw each other.

  Oh, she was going to miss him! Which was so silly. She hadn’t seen him in years and hadn’t pined, but after a few heart-to-hearts, she had been reminded of all the reasons she had fallen headlong for him in the first place. Now she couldn’t imagine going back to her old life without thinking about him all day, every day.

  “Kristen?” Wendy knocked.

  “You caught me.” Kristen hugged the freshly wrapped box as Wendy entered. “It’s for Finn,” she admitted in a whisper. “Am I being too…”

  “Thoughtful? Generous? There’s no such thing. And I’m willing to bet that whatever it is, he’ll love it. But can you come down? It’s time for dinner.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry—”

  “No!” Wendy held up a hand. “I mean, we’re all sitting town for a proper family meal. A bunch of angels—and by that I mean my sister-in-law and the girls—have set the table and everything. You and I don’t have to do anything but show up.”

  “Wow. Let me brush my hair and put on something I’m afraid to spill on then.”

  Kristen went downstairs a few minutes later. She had exchanged her Mistletoe Chalet sweatshirt for a deep blue wrap sweater over a silver camisole. Instead of keeping her hair clipped, she had brushed it loose. A dab of mascara and a fresh coat of lip balm was her only makeup along with the slight windburn that put pink in her cheeks.

  Maybe it was a flush of anticipation, though. She had never felt as though she needed to dress up for Finn, but she wanted to look pretty for what might be her last evening with him.

  When she got downstairs, she caught his eye immediately, as though he’d been watching for her. His crooked grin slid wider on his face. Her heart thrummed.

  “You’re here by me,” he said, rising from his seat at the table, which was the only one free.

  She took a moment to shake a few hands of family she hadn’t met yet, then let Finn push in her chair. Above her plate, a tented card showed her name written in colorful swirls.

  “This is pretty,” she said, glancing to Sarah.

  “Devon made them,” Sarah said. “And you can keep them after tomorrow, but can everyone please be careful with them for tonight? I need them for something in the morning.”

  “Why don’t you collect them now, since we’re all seated,” Kristen suggested.

  Her elbow bumped against Finn’s as they all started gathering the cards and sending them to Sarah.

  “Those girls have been really busy,” Finn leaned close to say. “Guests have been pulled aside. Uncles bribed with promises of chores. You’ve missed a lot.”

  “Sounds like it. It’s too bad—” She almost said she wished he was going to be here to witness the wedding.

  “It is,” he agreed, sounding as though he knew what she had almost said. But he always had been good at guessing what she was thinking. His tone grew grave. “I’m going to spend the night, but leave early, before anyone’s up. My parents have been really understanding all these years. It might be my last chance for a while to spend Christmas with them.”

  “I know. It’s okay. Honestly.” She met his gaze, letting him see she wasn’t hurt or feeling rejected or taking his impending departure personally.

  Finn looked conflicted, but the guest on his other side offered the potatoes. The moment passed.

  Dinner was lively and fun. Ted’s relatives were quick-witted and full of stories. Sarah enlisted her cousins to clear the table, but Kristen rose to start the coffee urn.

  By the time she got back with dessert, Sarah had started a game of Who Am I? All the kids plus Finn had a sticky note on their forehead.

  Kristen took her seat and read all the names around the table—Rudolf, Frosty, Shelf Elf, Blitzen and, on Finn, Mrs. Claus.

  “Am I a reindeer?” Devon wore Shelf Elf, but eyed Sarah’s ‘Blitzen’ tag.

  “No,” everyone said.

  She made a thoughtful face while her little brother, who was five, asked, “Am I a reindeer?”

  “Yes,” everyone said.

  “I get anoth
er turn? Am I Rudolf?”

  “Yes!”

  He pumped his fist and peeled his label off his head. “Do I get to choose a gift?”

  “From the ones by the fireplace, yes.” Wendy held up her hand for a high five as he scooted off his chair.

  He tapped her hand then went to shake and weigh the gifts Kristen had helped wrap. They were simple, sharable kid-friendly gifts of crayons and markers, coloring books and playing cards.

  “Your turn, Finn,” Sarah prompted.

  He looked around at the remaining labels. Considered.

  “Can I talk?” he asked.

  “Yes,” everyone said.

  “No,” Kristen said.

  Finn snapped a look at her.

  Kristen looked to the ceiling.

  “Yes, he can.” Sarah frowned with confusion.

  “You’re helping me win.” Finn narrowed his eyes on Kristen, then said, “Mrs. Claus!” He grabbed his note from his forehead and slapped it on the table.

  “Wait. How—?” Sarah stood up and put her hands on her hips. “You two are not allowed to team up. We’ve talked about this.”

  “I’m sorry.” Kristen had to laugh at Sarah’s mock temper, which was especially impossible to take seriously when she was still wearing a neon-green note on her forehead. “I couldn’t resist. Finn renamed our cat Mrs. Claws when we were kids.”

  “That’s how I learned to wash my hands after eating a tuna sandwich,” he said. “But I won’t take a prize since we cheated.”

  It felt more like sharing a secret and Kristen didn’t feel nearly as guilty as she ought to.

  The game carried on until it was just Sarah, frantically trying to remember all the reindeer names. “My mind has gone blank.”

  “We just sang it yesterday,” Ted reminded her.

  “I know. Sing it again. Finn? Can you play it?”

  Before he could rise, some of the kids started singing, “You know Dasher and Dancer…”

  “Blitzen!” Sarah cried, then face-palmed over her note before grabbing it to see.

  She collected the final prize. It was a deck of game cards and the kids quickly agreed to play. “Who else wants to play?” Sarah invited. “Grandma?”