All I Want For Christmas: Holiday Romance

by Catelyn Meadows

  Typical Mom, to have it out the day after Thanksgiving and put away the day after New Year’s.

  Her ride home with her dad the night before had been blessedly silent. He hadn’t asked questions, and she hadn’t volunteered information. He just drove her home, told her to shut out the lights, and left her to crash on the couch and cry herself to sleep.

  She got up this morning long enough to slide the lonely package of Oreos on the end table closer. The cookies kept her company. She wasn’t sure how many she’d eaten, but she took another bite, closing the package.

  “You shouldn’t eat cookies for breakfast.” Parker appeared in his Spider-Man PJs with straw hair sticking up in every direction.

  Saylor gave him a smile she didn’t feel, set the blue package aside, and pulled her boy onto her lap. She’d checked on him before crashing the night before, like always.

  “Morning, bud.” She smelled his hair before kissing the back of his head. Saylor loved the way his small feet jutted out over her lap.

  “You can have anything for breakfast at Grandma’s house,” her mom said, her head sticking out over the top half of the sad tree.

  “I can?” Parker leapt off Saylor’s lap, his eyes bright. He gave her a grin before darting into the kitchen.

  “Good going,” Saylor said.

  Mom shrugged. “You started it.”

  She stared at the soothing blue-packaged offering of double-sided, chocolate-hugging goodness. “Sometimes a girl just needs to wake up to some chocolate. I should keep PJs here like Parker does,” she added, taking in the rumpled state of her clothes.

  “You never did tell me how your date went.” Mom began winding the pile of lights near the fireplace.

  “The date itself was fine,” Saylor said. “Amazing, even.” And it had been. Being at Cole’s side, seeing his employees revere him and have such a great time. Kissing him in his truck and talking commitment with him.

  “But?”

  She rose from the couch, set the blanket aside, and began helping her mom wind light strands. “But when we went back to his apartment, his ex-wife was there, and she had her hands all over him.”

  Mom kept her attention on the lights. “Are you sure you didn’t misinterpret things?”

  “How can I misinterpret him ditching me in the truck to greet her instead and let her rub her hands up his chest?”

  Mom hmmed.

  “What?” He was playing with her. There was no other explanation for it. The realization peeled her apart inside.

  “It just doesn’t make sense,” her mom said. “Why would he invite you only to meet up with her?”

  “Men do crazy things?”

  “Not all men,” Mom argued. “I believe gentlemen still exist.”

  Saylor drew in a long intake of breath and laid another strand of lights on the pile in the box. “When you find one let me know, would you?”

  The doorbell rang, and after a few moments, Saylor’s dad entered the family room, standing near the fire crackling in the fireplace which separated this room from the kitchen. He then stood in the family room’s entrance and announced, “Saylor, there’s someone here to see you.”

  Confusion swept her brow. “Who—?”

  Cole stepped in behind her dad, looking sheepish. He wore his blue ski jacket, jeans, and held a bouquet of pink roses.

  “What—?” Saylor was the queen of unfinished sentences this morning. Her thoughts were disoriented, to say the least, and she was fighting the fluttery sensation going on inside her. “How did you know where I was?”

  He ambled around the couch, nodding a greeting to her mom, then her dad, then Saylor again. Silently, fighting smiles and ducking their heads, her parents left the room.

  “The stalker in me hurried back to my pickup and followed you last night,” Cole said once the room was cleared. The wrapping hugging the roses in his hand crinkled.

  “You did?”

  “I just wanted to make sure you weren’t stranded at that gas station. When your dad showed up, I took a casual drive...right behind you.”

  In spite of her charging heartrate, Saylor worked to keep her smile away. She couldn’t give him any false hope, not until she figured out if he was being truthful. Or if she wanted to pursue anything more with him. Was he worth another broken heart?

  He offered her the flowers. “I wasn’t sure what your favorite flower is. But I wanted to say I’m sorry.”

  The words cracked through her a little more, chiseling the ice away from her heart.

  SAYLOR’S MOUTH PARTED. From the adoration in her eyes, she seemed touched. Still, Cole wasn’t sure whether she accepted his apology or not. From the rumpled state of her red shirt and wrinkled pants, he knew she must have slept in them last night. The thought added a prickle of guilt, increasing his urgency to make things right.

  He stepped closer to her. “I honestly had no idea Brooke would be there. I never would have put you in that situation purposely. Will you forgive me? Can we try again?”

  Cole hesitated, hoping she would accept, hoping she would read the truth in his words.

  But she hesitated too.

  He would tell her how he’d texted Brooke last night, expressing how he never wanted to see her again. He would show Saylor the text if he had to.

  Another man entered, stealing Saylor’s attention before she could answer. He had longish hair, a scraggy, unkempt beard and wore gray sweats and a baggy Dr. Pepper T-shirt. Grimacing, the man twisted what appeared to be the lid of a bottle of pills, but halted at the sight of them.

  “Morning,” the man said, apprising Cole and lowering the pill bottle. Its contents rattled. “Who’s this?”

  The mask fell back over Saylor’s face. If Cole didn’t know any better, he’d say she was angry. Embarrassed, even.

  “No one,” Saylor said, pushing her shoulders back. “He’s no one.”

  She thrust the flowers into Cole’s chest. “Thanks for coming, but you have to go now.”

  Without any further explanation, Cole was unceremoniously herded to the door and pushed outside.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Cole stared at the flowers in his hand. Snow flurried around his ankles, attacking the soles of his boots for disturbing it as it tried to land. That had definitely not gone as he’d hoped. She was supposed to be swept off her feet by the sight of him. She was supposed to have swooned at the flowers, at his ready apology.

  She wasn’t supposed to deny him of any acknowledgment whatsoever and kick him out of her parent’s house.

  What was going on? Was she really that angry?

  Cole wondered who the man he’d seen was. Something told him it wasn’t the flowers, or Cole’s unexpected appearance. The minute she’d seen the man emerge, she’d stiffened. Her cheeks had flushed. Cole would almost bet she’d been enraged by the other man, though how that could be, he couldn’t tell.

  In any case, he got the same old sense he’d had for a while now—Saylor was hiding something from him.

  Cole gave a defeated shrug to the cold winter air. He turned to make his way toward his waiting pickup, but paused long enough to place the sad flowers on the step. They were for her, anyway. He might as well leave them, even if she didn’t seem to want them.

  With glum acceptance, he trudged back through the snow, resolved to spend the afternoon alone in his apartment.

  He drove across town, barely noticing anything other than the essentials. Stoplights. Street signs. Not rear-ending the cars in front of him.

  Rounding his pickup into its usual spot in his complex’s parking lot, he cut the ignition. The scraping sound of a snow shovel hit him. Jack stopped shoveling and beckoned him over. The old man’s loud voice was like a megaphone. “Cole? Get over here, son. Norah’s been chomping at the bit to get a word in.”

  Cole detoured left instead of climbing to the third floor where his own apartment waited.

  Before he knew what was happening, he was herded inside. Norah handed him a piece of
her apple pie and shuffled him toward the same spot on her couch he always took. It seemed she knew food was the ultimate comfort and the way to a man’s heart, and she always had the perfect remedy on hand.

  They passed over the pleasantries. Normally, they’d ask how were the holidays, how was the family, work schedules and expectations. Today, however, Norah went straight to business.

  “What’s going on with your Saylor girl?”

  “That little five foot six dish from the other night?” Jack added, as though Cole could somehow miss who they were referring to.

  Cole leaned forward. He should have known he’d get ambushed. It hadn’t been more than a few days since they’d discussed his relationship with Saylor. Clearly, Norah was eager to be filled in. Too bad he didn’t have better news to give them.

  “Brooke interfered again last night.” He told them of the interaction, of her unexpected appearance and the high toll it had taken on his relationship with Saylor.

  “Sounds like that ex of yours is after something,” Norah said.

  “That’s what I think too, I just can’t figure out what,” Cole said.

  “Go look in the mirror,” Norah said with a smirk.

  Cole considered it for half a second before grasping her meaning. “That’s what I’m afraid of. I don’t understand it. Our relationship didn’t end well, and I want nothing to do with her.”

  “Now Saylor knows Brooke is sniffing around again,” said Jack.

  Cole nodded. “She does, and it’s making her insecure about me. The other thing is, well, remember I told you I think Saylor is hiding something from me?”

  Norah scooted forward to the edge of her seat.

  “Communication is your best bet,” Norah said. “If there’s anything that needs to be resolved with Brooke, to get her to understand where you’re at, you’ve got to be straight forward. As for this Saylor girl, she needs open communication too, from the sound of things. You need to talk to them both, Cole.”

  “I’ve told Brooke straight up I’m not interested in her anymore. She won’t take the hint.” Even after sending an extremely plain-worded text after the whole mix-up last night, Brooke had disregarded it.

  She’ll get over it, Brooke had texted back. Once she knows we’re back together.

  Short of putting a restraining order on the woman, Cole didn’t know what to do. He was fairly certain his situation didn’t warrant such an extreme action.

  He’d tried communicating with Saylor as well, but that hadn’t ended at all like he thought it would either. She’d flat out rejected him. What was he supposed to do now, just let her be? Was she scared of getting hurt? What else would make her completely deny him like that?

  Another question pestered him. If she completely denied him right in front of whoever that man had been—Cole suspected it was a brother, or maybe an uncle—then did he want to continue pursuing things with her?

  He searched his heart for the answer, the same way he’d been doing since he left Saylor’s parent’s house. He couldn’t believe such an abrupt change had come over her. From her wide grin and sparkling, obvious delight at being with him, to utter, lip-curling loathing. He couldn’t leave things like that. Not with Saylor, the woman who made him lose track of time when he was with her, who made his pulse race and his skin flush. He yearned to get her to open up to him, to tell him what was really bothering her.

  Norah perked up, lifting a single finger into the air. “I know just the thing. An engagement will fix that right up. Better yet, an elopement.” She lowered the finger to point it right at Cole.

  Jack and Cole both stared at Norah as though the marbles in her brain had escaped.

  The old woman continued bobbing her head, as though the action was adding to the proof of her case. Her expression was hazy, almost as though she was reminiscing. Was that what she and Jack had done? Eloped? Cole had never asked them about their wedding.

  “I only met her on Christmas Eve,” Cole said.

  “So?”

  “So I can’t marry her when we just met.”

  Norah dusted flecks of nothing off the armrest of her couch. “At least Brooke would get the hint. Sounds like you need to keep your focus on where it really matters and stop meddling so much with your ex.”

  Focus on what really matters. On Saylor.

  That was exactly the problem. He’d been trying to focus on her. What was he supposed to do when she pushed him away? He still couldn’t get over the sting of her words from earlier that morning.

  No one. He’s no one.

  Jack and Norah’s advice was spot on as usual. The negotiator in him couldn’t leave things with Saylor like this. The least he could do was follow Jack and Norah’s counsel.

  The wounded ex-husband in him was more cautious. Was this some kind of proverbial red flag, indicating he was headed for another disastrous relationship? It was true, he wanted to find out what was really bothering Saylor, but how could he do that if she flat out rejected him?

  Cole stood, holding the plate slathered with uneaten apple pie in his hands. “Thank you—you’ve given me quite a bit to think about.”

  He needed some time to mull this over. He needed to decide what to do.

  “While I’m all for creating scandals with elopements, and running away to be with your true love, it doesn’t mean you have to do it right this second,” said Norah. She fluttered her hand at him as though waving away an invisible fire. “Sit down and eat your pie.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  The anger in Saylor’s chest was positively flaring. She glared at the pill bottle in her brother’s hands. “Same old Greg,” she snarled. She couldn’t believe she’d dismissed Cole the way she had. But she couldn’t handle this, not in front of him, and she hadn’t wanted to give Greg a single clue about who the other man was.

  “I can’t do this,” she said, pulse ratcheting. “I can’t be around you. You’re ruining your life, and I can’t have you around my son. Do you even know what kind of example you’re setting for him? I can’t believe Mom and Dad are still letting you do that garbage in their home.”

  Greg’s mouth dropped wide open. “These are a prescription for migraines,” he insisted. “See? I swear, I only take the recommended dose.”

  Saylor closed her eyes. She’d heard it all before, back when she was dating Caleb. Even though it’d been thirteen years, the ragged emotions were resurfacing, rearing their ugly heads, scraping her raw. It was too real, even now. She’d sunk so low into depression, so low into hopelessness, and she had been fighting against those feelings every day since.

  Every time she saw her brother, and especially now, seeing him with a pill bottle in his hands, those memories scratched their way from where she’d buried them. Veritable zombies, trailing her, not leaving her be.

  She knew it made no sense. She couldn’t keep blaming Greg for what happened. The choice she’d made was her own, no one else’s. It was so much easier to blame someone else.

  “Saylor.” Her mom’s voice was a lullaby behind her. “You’ve got to let this go. He’s trying to change. He’s been seeing counselors, and his therapist says he’s shown real improvement.”

  Her mother’s excuses sounded like just that. Excuses. So many other arguments shouted as loud as billboards, mixing with clichés. A leopard couldn’t change its spots, and neither could her brother give up something he’d made evident countless times he was unable to let go.

  Anger won the battle inside of her. She stormed into the kitchen. Lifted her son from the barstool.

  Parker let off a small, “Hey!”

  Saylor kissed him on the cheek, set him on the floor, and tugged him along as she stormed through the living room, gathering her things, gathering Parker’s things. Fortunately, Greg didn’t follow.

  Her mother did. She gave Saylor a look Saylor had seen many times. It wasn’t the look alone—it was the combination of folded arms and reeking disappointment.

  “I don’t want Parker around him,�
�� Saylor said in explanation to the patronizing glance.

  “That’s a choice you’ll have to make,” said her mom. “Either way, you’ve got to forgive him. It’s the only way your heart will ever truly heal.”

  The words stung right to Saylor’s eyes. She clung to Parker, holding him so, so tightly before letting him wiggle away. She knew her mom was right. Deep down inside of her, she knew it would also be better for her. But how could she manage it?

  Her mom rested a hand on her back, seeming to sense Saylor’s anguish. “You changed. Give your brother a chance to do the same.”

  Memory resurfaced, clearer and sharper than she’d felt in a long time. It was sore muscles and stiffness. It was manic pacing, sobbing, and wailing. It was why she stayed away from him. It was why she’d moved to Twin Falls. This agonizing, dulling, painful memory of the time she’d nearly taken her own life using her brother’s drugs.

  They’d been easy to access. Saylor had known right where they were. Greg had made no secret of his disgusting habit, and when Caleb had broken up with her...

  Greg appeared behind her mother, his face barely visible below the unseemly beard. She couldn’t mistake the pleading in his eyes for anything but pain. Pain that strangely enough mimicked her own.

  “Saylor,” Greg pleaded.

  The same tug her mother’s convincing words had yanked on her heartstrings dragged again, but Saylor’s resolve smothered them back.

  “I can’t do this. Come on, Parks.” She practically shoved her boy out into the snow.

  “I don’t have my coat on yet, Mommy.”

  A different wave of guilt struck her. What kind of mother was she, forcing her son out into frigid temperatures without letting him prepare first? She squeezed her eyes closed, before opening them and picking him up. “You can do it in the car.”

  The snowy air was an icy slap. January slipped its fingers down the back of her neck, pouring a dose of cold to steam out her anger. She paused at the sensation, but mostly at the sight of the abandoned pink roses on the snowy step.