Holiday Magic

by Fern Michaels

  “Hello?”

  “Hello, sister,” Leia said, quite cheery.

  I felt myself go cold, everything in my body freezing up tight, as fear strangled my throat. Where was she, and was she coming to get the kids?

  “Why are you calling, Leia?”

  “How about, hi, how are you?”

  “Why are you calling?” Please, please, don’t say you’re coming for the kids. Don’t ruin what I have finally, finally started to heal. It had been months since she’d called, and that was best.

  “I’m calling to say Merry Christmas.”

  “Merry Christmas. Good-bye.”

  “Wait!”

  “Wait for what, Leia?”

  “How are you?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Good. Ask me how I’m doing.”

  “I don’t care how you’re doing.”

  “Anthony and I are in Texas.”

  Relief rushed through me, sweet and quick.

  “We’re having a great time.” She regaled me with the details of their “great time.” I decided not to hang up because I needed to make sure she was not coming back to Telena.

  “Anthony and I are still wildly in love, still together. It’s bliss. It’s perfect.” She sighed. “I’m sorry that you won’t ever know about this, Meredith. This love between a man and a woman.”

  Barring her saying something terrible about the kids, those words could not have hurt me more.

  “I feel so guilty about that, Meredith,” she said, her voice catching. I knew she’d feel terrible for about one minute; that was the extent of her ability to feel guilt. “It was an accident, though. I didn’t mean for it to happen, but I know I forever ruined you for a man in your life. It would be impossible for a man to get past that; they want beauty, don’t they?”

  I clenched my teeth and scrunched up my eyes, as if I was bracing for a hit, a slug to the face. I heard the other crushing comments from men over the years zinging through my brain: “Deformed…gross…can’t deal with it…crip…I am so not going there…not interested…I need a chick who is sexy all over, not just the face and hair…that’d be awkward and weird in bed. Eww.” It was like I’d heard them yesterday. They had followed me over the years, like a black, mean cape. My stomach hurt, like a razor was scraping right across it.

  “But you’re a good mother,” Leia added, cheery again. “I know that Jacob and Sarah are much better off with you than me. You can cook. You’re a home-body. You were always so proud of your cooking job in New York but you’re more domesticated than I am. You’re a mommy. I can’t stand suburbia. Too boring for me. I’m going to send them Christmas presents, haven’t had time yet, will you tell them Merry Christmas for me? I’ll try to call again. Are you there?”

  “I’m here.” I so wanted to tell her off, to let my rip-roaring anger out, target her, but I didn’t. Not for her, for the kids. I knew Leia, and if I made her mad enough, to spite me, she would probably come and get the kids and take them away.

  “Good. Well. I guess that’s it then. Anthony says howdy hello. I say, after a while, crocodile. Bye, bye, Meredith. Toodle-hee-hoo!”

  I hung up and stared at that cross on the grounds of the cathedral.

  I could not let Leia have the kids back. I had meant to take legal action for full custody, but I didn’t think the kids were ready for it, and I thought Leia would fight back. But now I had to. No other way. I couldn’t risk her hurting them when she decided she wanted to play mommy again and dragging them into her sordid lifestyle.

  I dropped the candy cane to the table as the accident flicked across my mind. The wet pavement, his eyes, seeing the darkness fold in on me, the operation, the rehabilitation, the months of nerve screaming pain, some that was real, some that wasn’t, depression like I’d never felt, the fury, the shock and anxiety, seeing myself, my body, in a whole new light, then finally, finally, finding the light and going on with my life after months and months because I chose to live, because I could not choose to die.

  My parents had cried over me, gotten me the best doctors, the best care, never leaving my side…and Leia had skipped on off, not missing a beat.

  She had changed my whole life because of her irresponsibility. I knew she was a lousy sister, a lousy mother; that anger had been in me forever. But a few of her words, despite my best efforts to deflect them, hit the mark.

  They hit that mark hard, and all my insecurities and fears that I’d worked so hard to smash down came roaring at me like an emotional tsunami.

  I smashed the candy cane with my cowboy boot.

  Logan had no clue what hit in the next few days.

  We went from dancing by the cathedral at night, chatting and laughing during rehearsals, and my making him the largest Funky Fly Fisherman’s Omelet Telena has ever seen and the highest pile of Roarin’ Raspberry French Toast because I wanted to hear him laugh, to my frozen coldness.

  “What the hell’s going on?” he asked, never one to mince words.

  I denied there was anything going on. He accused me of avoiding him, dismissing him. “Don’t lie to me, Meredith. Ever.”

  I didn’t take his calls. I cooked him a normal breakfast when he came in, instead of turning his scrambled eggs into a river with parsley on the side for trees and fish made out of orange slices.

  I wouldn’t let him drive or walk me home after rehearsal. “Why can’t I take you home? Damn it, Meredith, talk to me.”

  I knew I was being awful. I was trying, trying to get up the nerve to break up with him, but I couldn’t, it killed me, and yet I knew I had to, so I pulled away, hoping the relationship would simply sever, break, he’d go away…although I had no solid plan, because no solid plan can be made when you believe you are dying from a heart that is no longer beating the way it should.

  I was blackly miserable, and I saw Logan’s misery, his anger, and the raw hurt in those green eyes. I wanted to hug him close, hold him, cry on him.

  “Meredith,” he said, barging into my kitchen and bringing with him the scent of mountain air, honey, and a picnic basket on a drift boat.

  Mary and Martha scurried out.

  “We’re going to talk about this.”

  “No, we’re not. Not now. Please. Not now.”

  My eyes filled up with tears; my hands shook; I dropped a plastic bowl.

  He wanted to argue. He was so stubborn.

  “Please, Logan,” my voice squeaked.

  He ran a hand through his hair. “You are going to talk to me about this tonight, do you have that, Meredith? After rehearsal, we’re going to talk. You are so difficult, but this time it isn’t funny and it isn’t amusing and I’ve had it. I don’t play games. You’re playing them, and we’re done with that. I’m too old for that, and so are you.”

  No, this wasn’t funny, or amusing; it certainly was no game.

  It was gut shrieking awful.

  “Get in the damn truck,” Logan said to me as he roared up beside me outside of rehearsal. He slammed out of his truck, stomped through the snow, and grabbed my elbow. “Right now, Meredith. We agreed we’d talk after rehearsal. It’s after rehearsal, so let’s go.”

  Rehearsal for our Christmas concert had gone surprisingly well, despite the fact that I thought stress would strip away my ability to stand up, and despite the fact that during the potluck dinner, Logan sat right next to me, seething, his thigh hard against mine, and I couldn’t even concentrate on my food because of his glare. Part of me wanted to swing myself around on his lap and kiss him; the other wanted to hold him tight and never let go.

  “Logan,” I croaked out. “How about later?”

  “No, now.”

  I was manhandled into the truck and we were driving off in about three seconds. He drove to a quiet street near the downtown, deserted at this hour, except for the huge Christmas tree and the white lights wrapped around the other trees. He did not say a word, his jaw set, hands gripping the steering wheel, then he turned the truck off and turned toward me.
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  “What the hell is going on?”

  How to end it?

  “You have got to talk. This isn’t fair to me.”

  What to even say?

  “Is it something I said? Something I didn’t say? Is there someone else?”

  Oh, the very thought of someone else infuriated him, I could tell. I shook my head.

  “Then what? What is it, Meredith?”

  I looked up into those green, confused, ticked off, hurt eyes, and I burst into tears. “I’m sorry, Logan, oh, I’m so sorry…”

  And I moved, and he moved, and we were in each other’s arms, passionate and hot and overwhelming, and all I could think of was Logan, his lips, his tough, sweet face, the chest I leaned on when he lifted me up and straddled me across his lap, our breath mingled, a groan, a moan, bliss…

  It was when my cowgirl hat was knocked to the floor of the truck, my jacket and sweater on top of it, my blue blouse unbuttoned, my bra unsnapped, his jacket on top of mine, his shirt almost off, our heat together creating more heat, it was when his hands stroked me from shoulder to breast to waist to hip, to thigh and lower that I wrenched away and scrambled off his lap.

  “I can’t do this,” I breathed, reaching for my sweater with shaking hands and yanking it over my head. I heard my sister’s voice. “I forever ruined you for a man in your life. It would be impossible for a man to get past that; they want beauty, don’t they?”

  I couldn’t let him see me.

  “What?” Logan panted back, those warm, skilled hands that had brought me to the brink of some fantastic ecstasy, slapped up to his head. “What are you doing?”

  “I said I can’t do this.” I tried not to cry; I did. I cried anyhow.

  “Why not?” I could hear the crushing anger ringing through the disbelief in his tone.

  “I can’t…I can’t be on your lap like this. I can’t kiss you.”

  “Dammit, Meredith!” Those green eyes flashed at me where seconds ago they’d been languid and aroused, yet so primitively fierce as he took control of this whole panting, velvety, hot encounter. “What are you talking about? Why can’t you kiss me?”

  I rolled my lips in tight and let my black hair cover my face, my white streak flashing in the darkness. “Because I can’t.”

  I reached for my jacket and shoved my arms through before I was tempted to fling the rest of my clothes out the window and launch myself at him again. My heart wanted to stay. Stay in his embrace, stay in the passion, the heat, the comfort of his friendship, the trust I had for him.

  “Answer me, Meredith.” He brought a fist down on the dashboard, not in a scary way, but in an “I’ve had it” way. He leaned toward me and put a hand on the window behind my head. “I’m not asking you to make love to me, Meredith, for God’s sakes, I sure as hell wouldn’t do that in my truck, I respect you more than that, but what is this? You’re passionate, you’re cold, you’re passionate again. Why do you keep pulling away from us?”

  “Because there is no ‘us’,” I bit out, then clenched my teeth together, so I wouldn’t sob like a drunken maniac on his chest. “There is no ‘us’, there is not going to be an ‘us’.”

  “Why is there not going to be an ‘us’?” He shook his head, the moonlight glinting on that hair I wanted to run my hands through. “Why is there no ‘us’ now? Why can’t you at least trust this, trust what we have now?”

  “Because I can’t. I can’t.” I grabbed my purse and smashed my cowgirl hat on my head. “Please, Logan, let me go.”

  “No, I’m not letting you go.” A pulse jumped in his temple, his face still flushed from all that passion. Mine was probably about as red as squished cherries. “I don’t understand you; I don’t understand what you’re doing, where you’re going here. What’s wrong, Meredith? What is wrong?”

  I was awkward, clumsy, as I tried to unlock the door, my hands shaking. I would probably be brought home by Officers Sato and Juan tonight. Wouldn’t Sarah think that was hilarious?

  I found no humor in it at all. The only thing I found was desolation. Bleak, stripped, raw desolation. I found the lock, I unlocked the door, he locked it, then placed a hand over the handle. Our faces were about six inches from each other.

  “What’s wrong, Logan, is the same thing I’ve been telling you. I don’t want to get involved with you.” Oh, but how I did. “You suck me into this relationship, and then I have to pull away again. I’m pulling away now.”

  He looked at me like I’d slapped him, his face stony. “But why?”

  I shook my head.

  “No? You’re going to say, sorry, Logan, not interested, that was fun, thanks for the romance, thanks for your time, that’s it? I’m done. We’re done. You have no explanation?”

  I had an explanation, but I couldn’t share it with him. He would pity me, tell me it didn’t matter, but it would. I knew it would.

  “After all the time we’ve spent together you can’t take one minute to be honest and tell me what it is about me, about us, that you don’t like? You can’t tell me why you see no future for us?”

  That darn dam in my eyes broke again, and tears seared my cheeks, sobs catching in my throat. I wanted to bring my arms up around those shoulders again and kiss him until I couldn’t think.

  Instead I dragged his hand away from the lock, opened the door, and threw myself out of the car.

  I started running, ignoring his command to stop, to come back, to talk to him.

  I ran up one street, knowing he was following me in his truck. I cut down another, then ran up the steps to the elementary school I’d attended and headed toward the grassy field, now covered in snow. I hoped he wouldn’t follow.

  He did. He parked the car and started running after me.

  “You have got to be kidding, Meredith,” he shouted, still angry. “I am actually chasing you across a school-yard so we can talk?”

  I kept running. He caught up to me in about five seconds. I turned to push him away, lost my balance, grabbed his shoulders, and we ended up in the expected heap on the snowy ground, him on top of me, the stars shining, that North Star still so bright, and I pulled my leg away from him. He felt so good on top of me, so strong and comfortable. I bit down on my lip in total misery. I would never have this, never have him on me again.

  We were both panting, but I was the one crying, hiccupping sounds emerging from my throat, other animal-like cries embarrassing me.

  “Meredith,” Logan’s voice softened as my sobs became worse. “Honey, I don’t like to see you this upset. I’m sorry, baby, I’m sorry.” He turned over on his back and brought me with him. “Calm down, it’s okay.”

  “You’re…you’re…” I gasped. “You’re going to get wet.”

  “I don’t care, honey, get your tears out. Cry, I’m right here. I’m not leaving you.”

  I shook my head, and he stroked a hand over my hair, another over my back, and murmured, “I don’t understand what the problem is, I don’t get it, I don’t know why you’re struggling with me, with us, but please calm down, honey, breathe, breathe in and out, here.” He stroked my back, up and down, my head on his chest as I cried, all over that muscley chest of his, as he laid in the snow, next to the elementary school I’d attended, that North Star shining.

  “I can’t see you anymore.” My voice was dull, but resolute. The tears were, for the time being, imprisoned inside me again. I’d forced them in, and I was once more in Logan’s truck, although now we were parked outside my brick home, my Christmas lights twinkling.

  Logan groaned, his knuckles white around the steering wheel. “You’re not going to tell me why, are you?”

  “We’re not going to make it, Logan, so why continue?”

  “We could make it. You’re not allowing it.” His jaw was clenched, his body rigid. We were both exhausted.

  “We’re different.”

  “Not at all. We have a passion together I’ve never had with anyone else. With no one else. We talk like we’ve been best friends ou
r whole lives. We laugh. I respect you, I like you as a person. We love to fly fish, ride horses, be outside. I get along with Sarah and Jacob. But you can’t trust, can you? You can’t let go of your own independence. You don’t need anyone, do you, Meredith? You can do everything on your own, run your life on your own, you don’t need help of any sort, and you don’t want to make any room in your life for me.”

  My own words, hundreds of times uttered, came back to haunt me: “I can do it myself! I don’t need help! I can do everything everyone else can!”

  I knew they weren’t true. I needed Logan. I loved Logan. I wanted him in my life.

  I had never felt so despairing in my entire life. Never. But I knew he wouldn’t be attracted to me later. I knew I’d have to see him around town, probably for the rest of my life, and know exactly why he rejected me, and I would have to pretend that I didn’t care that we were not together. I would see pity, and I could not stand that.

  I climbed out of the truck, and this time he didn’t try to stop me.

  Chapter 10

  “Logan’s gone.”

  I froze, one hand clenched around my cell phone, my other clenched around a garlic press. “What?”

  “Logan’s gone, Meredith,” Martha said. “I went down to the Community Center to do some decorating and I walked in and, wow, Meredith, wow. Logan must have been there all night. Liberty Hall said he left around 4:00 this afternoon and was catching a flight to California for work. He did everything, Meredith, everything. The stage is completely done. He finished building it out; the stairs rise in both directions. The balconies are finished. He finished building the boxes for all the Christmas trees to stand on, and then he and Paulo put all the Christmas trees on top, it looks beautiful. Meredith, are you there?”

  He was gone. “Did…did he say when he would be back?”

  “He said he would be gone for a while, that’s what Liberty said. He said something had come up. Liberty said that he was polite and nice like always but she said he seemed upset, sort of angry, too. Did you two have a falling out?”