by Lisa Heaton
“And you are here.” With her face tucked into his neck, she breathed in the scent of his aftershave. He smelled clean and fresh and familiar. For the first time in many years, she felt whole again, in a way she had forgotten was possible. In her heart, she prayed, “Lord, I have surely missed him. Thank You for bringing him here.”
“I told you I would be.”
“What was the deal with that note?”
He sat her back down on the ground. “Doubt, and I am so sorry I even sent it. I never meant to hurt your feelings or make you doubt me.” Reaching for her hand, he added, “That is the last thing I ever want to do.”
Looking up at him towering over her like a tall tree, she sighed and leaned back in and rested her head on his chest. How could she doubt him? “Let’s forget it then.” When he circled his arms around her, she closed her eyes and slipped her arms around his waist, nestling into him as she had done a million times before.
“Please, let’s do.” Holding her to him, all his fears of the past few days slipped away. Nothing about holding her was a mistake. How could he have ever thought such a thing? For as long as she would allow him to be part of her life, he would be. It would have to be her who pushed him away.
Anxious to get home, she took a step back. “Are you ready?” He stood there looking at her as if he had not heard her question, and she wondered what he was thinking.
“You look so beautiful.” He touched her hair, mesmerized by the sight of her standing there. “Have you always been this beautiful?”
She grinned and blushed, noting that the look in his eyes was like nothing she had ever seen before, as if he were seeing her for the very first time. Somewhat similar to when he approached her at the bonfire, then though, he was much more bashful. Feeling as nervous as she had that night, she realized now, just as then, they were about go off together, and she hadn’t a clue of what they were supposed to do alone. For several not-so-awkward moments, they just stood there, looking at each other. This was likely the beginning of something more than friendship, and they both knew it.
Finally, she asked, “Do you have bags to collect?”
“Yes.”
“You travel heavy.”
Slipping his hand around her waist, he began to walk alongside her. “I come bearing gifts.”
“Good. I have been a very good girl this year.”
“So I have heard.”
“Who told you?” When she wrapped her arm around his waist, she tucked her thumb into his belt loop, something else she had done a million times in years past. Such a trivial detail brought with it such unexpected comfort and familiarity. Snuggled against him as they maneuvered through the mass of Christmas travelers, they were as good as alone together.
Their conversation continued on as playful and flirty all the way to claim his bag, throughout the walk to the car, and along the drive to the inn. Each moment, he was intentionally and prayerfully grateful to be with her. Continually, he gave thanks in his heart, sometimes even shouting at the top of his spirit in gratitude. Since waking up in the hospital, he knew nothing would ever stop his heart from loving her, but he could never have anticipated how much more he would someday. Astounded by this intense, patient devotion he felt toward her, he realized, it was a love only God could give him. It was the love God constantly extended toward him.
Once Mike was settled into his room, he came back downstairs with a stack of gifts and found Robin waiting in the main lobby area. “Where is your tree?”
“I have not gotten one yet.”
Surprised, he asked, “You? You are crazy about Christmas.”
“I was thinking we could go get one together.”
“Aww, I like that idea.” The thought of it brought back a flood of memories of past Christmases together. She was like a kid when it came to decorating the tree. “I’m glad you saved it for us to do together.” It would be the first family Christmas he had known in six years. While he visited his mother the afternoon of the previous Christmas, and Trevor came too, it did not feel right to him. Robin was his family, and only she could make the day feel complete.
“Me, too.” Pointing to the parlor, she said, “We will set it up in there if you want to take the gifts on in.” It thrilled her to see the gifts. Not that she wanted presents, but that he took the time to shop for her. It was not at all surprising, though; he always was overly generous at Christmastime. Even when he worked at the feed store for nearly nothing, he made a big deal over Christmas, saving for a whole month to buy her something. It was the year they were seventeen that he gave her a promise ring on Christmas Eve. Smiling, she thought of her dad’s reaction, and how he nearly flipped, but then eventually settled into the idea.
Once in the parlor he spotted a stack of gifts sitting near the fireplace and decided to place his alongside them. When he got nearer, he realized they were all for him. Though he could not care less what was in them, to know she went out and picked things out for him caused tears to form in his eyes. Chuckling aloud, knowing if she caught him misty eyed he would never hear the end of it, he quickly blinked them away.
Scattered around the room were boxes of ornaments and lights. Sadly, none of them were theirs. Their attic at home was full of decorations and ornaments, ones they had collected over the years, even as teenagers. She always loved Christmas, so each year he took her to pick out new ornaments. Decorating a tree in her bedroom at her parents’ home, she placed their ornaments on her tree, certain that one day they would have a home of their own, and a tree they picked out together. Bearing in mind what he lost, a knot formed in his throat and the tears returned. This time, however, he was unable to blink them away. Rubbing his face, he heard her come in and stand quietly behind him.
“Feels like old times.” Understanding his unchecked emotions, she smiled at him. “This feels right, doesn’t it?”
Nodding, he could hardly trust his voice to answer. When she moved near to where he stood, he wrapped his arms around her and held her to him. After a minute or more, he finally whispered, “Nothing has ever felt more right.”
They walked the lot looking for just the right tree. Robin had definite standards and Mike was eager to please. Where one was the perfect height, it was too scraggly on one side. If one was the right width, it was too short. He patiently walked with her, realizing the little things in life are truly the most important. There was not a thing in the world he would rather be doing than searching for the perfect tree with her. Finally, happening upon the elusive flawless tree, they tied it down on Emma’s Subaru and headed back to the inn. With the tree indoors and secured in its holder, they worked first on the lights.
Stopping in the middle of the fifth strand, he admitted, “I am starving. I skipped lunch.”
“Why didn’t you tell me? I will go in and make us something.”
With the next day being Christmas Eve, he did not anticipate going out. “Why don’t we go out to dinner instead? We can eat here tomorrow.”
“I thought you were sick of eating out.” She planned to cook for him after such a poor, poor me routine.
“I am sick of diner and fast food. We can go out for a real dinner, like a steak.”
“That would be nice.” Looking down, she asked, “Do you mean like a go-get-nice-clothes-on kind of dinner?”
“You look great as you are. I will grab a different shirt.”
After freshening up, Robin met Mike at the stairwell going downstairs. She had given him a room on the second floor, so when she reached the bottom of the second set of stairs he was standing there waiting for her. They walked down the last flight together, both grinning, excited by the prospect of the evening.
Wearing a black shirt with royal blue pinstripes, his sleeves were rolled up to just below his elbows. She noticed he had changed into nicer jeans and dark loafers as well and looked as handsome as she had ever seen him. To her astonishment, his eyes still, after so many years, made her heart flutter just as they did that first night over the c
ampfire. They were dark blue, and something about the color of his shirt made them even more striking. They sparkled almost when he smiled at her.
On the way to the steak house, the conversation was light, and never once did she feel uncomfortable. Several times she realized that, though it was never said, this was every bit a date. Whatever you might call it, she felt at ease with him, and he seemed just as relaxed.
He drove as he always had, and while riding and talking with no distraction of the radio, he simply listened as she chattered away about various things. Thinking back, he wondered if he had ever listened to her so intently. With this new whatever they were sharing, he listened closer, trying to catch any glimpse into her heart that he could. And while he had known her over seventeen years, now, his greatest desire was to know her more. Once, while she was describing some of the more colorful characters around town, he casually reached over and took her hand. Glancing her way, he asked, “Do you mind?”
Her heart was beating much too quickly. Evidently, his touch still did that to her. “No.” Looking at his hand and how it dwarfed hers, she stammered a bit, saying, “I have missed you holding my hand.”
He couldn’t help but wonder if anyone had held it besides him. Many times still, he thought of Chris. Had she felt as comfortable with him? Did she allow him to hold her hand this way? Reading people as well as he did, he knew that Chris was in love with Robin. When she had written in her letter that he died, it eased his jealousy some, but never fully took it away. Rubbing the palm of her hand with his thumb, he admitted, “I’m sorry I haven’t been around to do that.”
“Me, too.”
The drive became suddenly quiet, each lost in regret and a strong desire to go back and undo the damage of that last year together.
Conversation over dinner was again relaxed and comfortable. As if they had requested the best table, Mike and Robin were seated in a private place out of the way of the main commotion of the restaurant. People were out in droves as they did last minute shopping, so the parking lots of most restaurants they passed were full. This place, though, was quiet, and their table was secluded, giving them freedom to talk openly.
Peeking over his menu, he suggested, “Order the larger steak.” He knew she would pick the smaller.
“Are you that hungry?”
“Starved.”
“Why didn’t you just tell me? I would have made you some lunch before going out for a tree.”
Mike grinned shyly. “I couldn’t have eaten a bite then. Now, I am feeling a bit less nervous.”
“You were nervous?” How could she find that anything but sweet? He never showed it on the surface.
Resting the menu on his lap, he admitted, “Yes. Weren’t you?”
“Yes.” She glanced back down at the menu. “What vegetable do we want?” She giggled.
“Anything, I’m not picky” Laying his menu on the table, he reached for her hand. “I can hardly believe I am here.”
“Me, too.” Noticing the server approach, she quickly added, “This wasn’t a mistake, was it?”
“No. This was no mistake at all.”
Trimming the tree was as much fun as Robin had had in years. They spent as much time on the tree as if it would stand there forever. Obediently, he moved the ornaments around in the higher places just as she directed. She found no need for a ladder for the first time since leaving North Carolina, as he was easily able to place the star atop the tree without even standing on tip toes. “You are quite a nice helper.”
“I just do what I am told. So what’s next?”
“I was thinking a movie.”
Gleeful was the word he would use to describe her at the moment. With her standing beside the tree still, he was reminded of when they were much younger. Of all the things he could recall, her excitement at Christmas was one of his favorite memories of their holidays together. He moved closer to her. “I have missed you, missed this.” He slid his hand behind her neck and pulled her into him.
Resting her head against his chest, she could hear his heart beating hard and strong. “I have missed you, too. I don’t think I realized just how much until today.” Gripping him tighter, she buried her face into the fabric of his shirt and sighed. Tears were burning her eyes and her face felt flush. Inside, she felt a mixture of excitement at being held by him, along with alarm at how right it felt. Her own heart was beating clear up into her throat, and the rhythm blended with what she was hearing in his chest. Just as he had done at the cemetery, she felt him press his lips to the top of her head and kiss her softly. Until he did it that day, she forgot how much she loved it. As he did then, he did so discreetly, as if not wanting her to know. She smiled.
“Does this scare you?”
Nodding, and without looking up, she whispered, “A little.” Then, after thinking it through, she admitted, “A lot.”
He stood there holding her to him, amazed that he was fully awake, not dreaming. How many dreams had he dreamt where he held her this way? Over the years, probably hundreds. Upon waking, he never once believed it would happen again. It was real this time, so in his heart he prayed, “God, you are so good to me when we both know I don’t deserve it.”
Releasing her, he assured her, “No need to be scared. We will take things slowly.” Lifting her chin to look at him, he promised her, “I will never give you a reason to be scared again, never. You say back off, I’m back. You say draw near, I will be here.”
A sudden uneasiness began to form in her stomach. As much as she feared getting close to him again, fear in the context that she knew there was no future for them; her truest desire was to move in closer and kiss him. Apprehension, though, became so much stronger than desire, she found herself taking a step back.
Sensing her hesitation, he clapped his hands together and asked, “So, what movie?” When she quietly moved to where the movies sat on a shelf, he closed his eyes, wondering, “What am I doing here? I know this is just a set-up for a fall.”
They watched two Christmas movies. Both, of course, were stories of miracles and love, which gave him impossible and irrational hope. By the time the last film ended, it was eleven o’clock. Agreeing to go to bed so they could get up early and make the most of the day, they walked together up the stairs to bed. Upon reaching the second floor, he took her hand, preventing her from continuing up the next flight of stairs. “Rob…” He rested his forehead on hers. “This has been the best Christmas Eve eve I have ever had.”
“Me, too.”
“I know you felt uncomfortable earlier. I am sorry I made you feel that way. We are friends, and that can be enough for me. You have always been my best friend, and you always will be.”
“You will always be my best friend, too. Right now, beyond that, I don’t know what to think.”
“Don’t think. That is when people get into trouble. Let’s just be friends.”
Parting was difficult for him. In a strange place, in a strange bed, he found it nearly impossible to sleep. Or, maybe it was the knowledge that she was in a room sleeping just one level above him. Even early into the morning hours, he found his mind full of memories. He could close his eyes and see exactly what she looked like sleeping. Grinning, he recalled drool and all.
“Lord, other than salvation and forgiveness, I think this may be the best gift you have ever given me. Well, and Mikey. Thank you for this. I still can’t figure You out. But I suppose I never will. I just know this – You are beyond good to me.”
It was after nine when Robin finally knocked on Mike’s door. Tapping lightly, she whispered, “Hey, sleepy head, you are missing the day.”
Lifting his head, he blinked, trying to clear the fog from his mind. The clock read nine twenty. “I’m up. Sorry.”
Cracking the door open, she told him, “Breakfast is ready, so hurry on down.
“Give me five minutes.”
He found her in the dining room setting plates onto a table near the window. It was the first he noticed it had snowed th
e night before. “Amazing!”
“We will have a white Christmas. Have you ever had one before?”
“A dusting maybe, but nothing like this.”
Sitting at the table, just as he had done the night before at dinner, he took her hand and gave thanks for the food. When he had done so the night before, she found it sweet, but this morning, his prayer caused a lump to form in her throat, and for a moment, she was unable to eat. Recalling the man he was before, she knew he would have never done such a thing. Only she blessed the food before a meal. Once apart, though, he had become the exact man she had always longed for him to be. As desperately as she wanted to love him and trust him again, too much had happened, and their history was so ugly, it seemed a great gulf stood between them.
He sat quietly for a moment. By her silence, he could tell she was lost in thought and wondered if she was regretting having invited him. She sat looking at her food, but not yet eating. When he had reached for her hand to bless the food, once he was done, she gave it a slight squeeze and smiled at him. Something about that tiny gesture reassured him at least a little.
Before him was a plate full of eggs and bacon. On another small plate was toast with butter. She had set out little containers of jellies. “You are a great hostess.”
“I should be. I do it enough.”
“Why not in the winter? I would imagine people would come in droves to see a sight like this.” The lake did look spectacular surround by snow. From where they sat, he could see clear across the water to the other side. Pine trees were draped heavy with snow, a perfect picture, as if he had opened the largest Christmas card ever and propped it up beside the table.
“Since I have been here Emma has not had winter guests. She says she needs to recharge, and I don’t blame her. The spring through fall months are crazy. Though I did not know this until I came here to live, she doesn’t have to rent out at all.”