Snowflakes and Holly

by Jae Dawson

  “That’s right,” I said with forced levity before slipping Dev a grateful look. “We’ve gotta get packing.”

  “You don't have to help me with all that.” Gramps waved us both off. “I can manage. Deloris is gonna come over to help too.”

  “Girls are only allowed in your bedroom if you keep the door open.” I clapped him on the shoulder gently with a humored twist to my lips.

  “Touché.”

  In truth, I was dreading packing him up, even though I knew the situation at Maple Lane would be a good one for him. How could we distill a lifetime of love into just a few boxes?

  “Gramps, I was thinking,” I said as we walked outside, our steps slow to match his shuffling gait. “I don’t think we should sell the house.”

  He perked up and looked my way. “Really?”

  “That way you can move your things at a more leisurely pace. And I could stay there when I come back.”

  Dev looked at me sideways and I knew what he was thinking. How often would I be coming back? I didn't know, but I couldn't bring myself to sell, even if Gramps asked me to. Not yet. Not so soon after Gran. I had plenty of money to keep Gramps comfortably at Maple Lane for the rest of his life. We didn’t need to liquidate all those collective memories just yet.

  “If you're sure,” Gramps said. “I didn’t want to burden you. The gutter on the south side always clogs. And the ‘coons have been getting into the crawlspace again. It’s a lot of work.”

  If true, I felt even more guilty that I had left him and Gran to deal with those needed repairs.

  “We’ll figure it out. We don't need to decide right now.”

  Packing up Gramps made me wish I was a smoker again. I looked longingly at Dev as he headed outside, a cigarette dangling loosely from his mouth. This shit was stressful.

  Thank God for Deloris. That woman was a miracle worker. She ordered us about with drill sergeant efficiency and helped Gramps make the more difficult decisions with a sort of brusque kindness. There were moments I think I needed her more than Gramps. Moments, I was pretty sure, she knew. Every object I picked up took a piece of me with it when placed into the boxes destined for Maple Lane.

  A framed photograph of my parents on their wedding day.

  They had loved each other. They had loved me endlessly too. I never got to tell them how I felt the same. Not really.

  My grandfather’s old, tattered Mariner’s ball cap, with the old school golden “S” logo.

  For a large part of my life, this cap was as much a part of Gramps as his mischievous smile. Gran always teased that he was up to no good. She wasn’t wrong.

  Gran . . .

  Gran’s jewelry box rested in my hands.

  I opened the lid and fingered her wedding band. The diamond was small, the gold band narrow. More like an engagement ring. Gran was too thrifty for anything more. But I also knew she didn’t need showy jewelry to become the very definition of elegance and beauty.

  An image of Bella floated past my mind’s eye. Her laugh, her sexy soprano voice, the way she cared for and encouraged each student under her wing. The way she had cared for Gramps. For me.

  I closed the lid and gently placed it with other treasured objects inside the box.

  My career was too demanding for a relationship. Maybe Bella was right. I was fated to let her down from the very start and it was delusional to think otherwise. Hell, I could barely care for Gramps and he was becoming physically co-dependent.

  With a sigh, I closed the box and turned toward the next item.

  Within hours, Deloris had us carrying the heavy boxes out to Gramps’s truck—blessedly back from the body shop—while Gramps took another slow pass through the house for straggling items.

  “What's up with you, man?” Dev asked as he shoved the last box into the pickup bed. “You seem a million miles away.”

  “Yeah. I regret pushing this on Gramps. He’s so happy here.”

  “I wasn’t talking about him. This.” He gestured around them. “But, you did the right thing.”

  I shrugged. “Maybe.”

  “Gran wouldn’t want him to be lonely.” Dev tilted his head, his eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “So, what’s really going on? You’ve been out of it since this morning. And whenever Gramps mentions Bella—”

  I drew in a slow breath. “It’s the musical,” I admitted. “It means so much to the kids and to Bella. I feel like shit for bailing. Stupid, right?”

  “Nah,” Dev said. “When I got here, it seemed like you had a good thing going.”

  “Yeah, well, the HBO special is big.”

  Dev leaned against the truck, his eyebrow raised. “You love her, don’t you?”

  Love? Did I? “Shit, man, it’s been five weeks, not five years.”

  Dev shrugged. “You only brood over people and things that you love.”

  Dammit.

  “She’s made it clear that the rock industry is not a scene she’s into.”

  His friend’s lips inched upward. “Well, I’m still single, so what the hell do I know. But I do know you. And something’s different—”

  My phone rang. I waggled it at Dev. “Kenzie the Fierce.” I answered, relieved for the interruption. I forced light-heartedness into my voice. “Afternoon, beautiful.”

  “Darling, I have good news,” Kenzie purred. “Tristan called. The judge is going to spring you. And, as a cherry on top, your suspension is lifted. You can drive again.”

  Tension uncoiled from my muscles. Finally, self-sufficient again.

  Kenzie continued, “I booked you and Devon flights to L.A. tonight.”

  “Tonight? I need to get Gramps settled into the retirement home.”

  “All right, tomorrow at the latest, then.”

  I hesitated.

  “Cade, hun, I'm not asking you. I'm telling you. Be on that plane tomorrow, or you can kiss your career goodbye.”

  The phone call ended.

  Deloris cut us each a slice of pecan pie with a directive to go in the living room and eat. “You boys need to keep your strength up.”

  My eyes roved the living room, restless and prowling. There was nowhere safe to land. Everywhere I looked, there were memories of Gramps and Gran. The life I’d spent here. The fireplace where I’d sliced my chin after trying to do a skateboard jump in the living room. The TV where we watched game shows after dinner, so ancient, they made me get up to change the channel. The varnished liquor cabinet where, at thirteen, I had stolen my first fifth of vodka.

  But if I looked down, there was pie. I chewed mechanically, the pecans like cardboard in my mouth. I knew, objectively, that this was good pie. But I could only think of Bella.

  What was I supposed to do?

  Deloris took our plates with a cheerful clap. “Are you three ready for your next big adventure? I’m going to clean up, but you all should get moving. Frank, remember Cindy and I are visiting you tomorrow morning. Make sure you’re all settled in.”

  “You don’t have to stay and clean,” Gramps protested.

  “Nonsense, your grandson has enough on his mind. I’m happy to help.”

  “Deloris, you’re an angel.” I gave her a hug. “Thank you for everything.”

  She patted my back, her wiry hand straying dangerously close to my ass. I had to hold in a laugh. “Anything for you, Cade.”

  Outside, an insistent Seattle drizzle plopped off the truck. I was glad I had tarped over the boxes. At least one right decision in a long string of questionable ones these past few weeks.

  “I’m going to head out,” Dev said, before lowering his voice. “You can drive now, and I think you and Gramps should do this next part together.”

  I swallowed back the tightening knot in my throat and yanked him into a hug. “Thanks, man.”

  Then I walked back a few steps and turned toward Gramps.

  “You ready?” I asked him.

  He had turned to face the house with hawkish focus, as if he could soak in all its memories one last time. “
We won’t sell yet?”

  I softened. “If you tried, I’d buy the house from you myself.”

  “Sometimes, when I look at this place, it’s like she never left.”

  “She didn’t.” I draped my arm around his shoulders and pulled him in close. “Gran will be with us, no matter where we go.” I couldn’t look at him, couldn’t see the tears shining in his eyes or I’d lose it myself.

  So, I just waited with him until he was ready, then led him to the car.

  Some goodbyes should never have to exist.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Cade

  Gramps was settled, my suitcase packed. I had checked in for my flight. Yet, there was one glaring piece left undone. I couldn’t leave without saying goodbye. I owed Bella and the kids that much, at least.

  So, I drove to Tuesday’s rehearsal and dragged myself inside. A weight had settled on my chest. My stomach muscles clenched. Everything about this situation felt completely right and entirely wrong.

  I walked down the auditorium aisle and greeted the students as I ambled past—a fist bump here, a head nod there, smiles. Lots of smiles. I had come to know them well these past five weeks. They were silly, and dramatic, and enthusiastic, and smart. Bright-eyed and full of hope. Me? Back then, I couldn’t wait to get out of this town and never look back.

  I do remember feeling that same burning drive to succeed, no matter the cost. But now that I’d found success, it felt so hollow.

  “Bella.” I came up behind her, and when she turned to face me, she wore a tight-lipped smile. Her dark hair was down today, curled about her face in styled waves. God, she was beautiful.

  “I wasn’t sure we’d see you today.”

  I jerked my head toward the back of the auditorium. “Can we talk?”

  “Sure.” Bella followed me, her arms tightly crossed over her chest. The awkwardness between us was thick enough to cut with a knife.

  I shoved my hands in my pockets and slowed by a shadowed wall. “I’m heading back to L.A.”

  She nodded. “When?”

  “Tonight.”

  Her lips parted and she let out a little shocked sigh. “So soon.”

  “We need to rehearse before the show.”

  “Right, your big Halloween show.”

  “Bella, I didn’t want things to go down like this.”

  She waved a hand. “We’re ready. You’ve helped a lot, but don’t overestimate your importance.”

  Wow, gut punch. “I thought you wanted me to say something before the shows? And talk to the school board . . .” I trailed off. Bella had just said they’d do fine without me.

  She smiled, but the gesture didn’t touch her dark eyes. “Don’t worry about us. We were okay before you arrived and we’ll be okay after you leave.”

  Was she talking about the kids, or her? I shifted on my feet. “I wasn’t suggesting you wouldn’t be.”

  “I enjoyed working with you, Mr. Owens,” Bella said, with a formality that twisted the knife even more. “More than I thought I would at first. We made a good team.”

  “Yeah, me too.” I couldn’t figure out what the hell was going on. Had I imagined the heat between us? Maybe it had just been a passing thing for Bella—maybe kissing Cade Owens had been on her bucket list. Because she sure as hell didn’t seem too upset to see me go.

  Still, I was desperate for anything to delay this goodbye. I wasn’t ready to leave Bella.

  “Gramps is all settled at Maple Lane.” I cringed. This reduced-to-small-talk atmosphere between us was painful.

  “I’m glad.” Her dark eyes flicked to mine, deep pools that I wanted to drown in.

  “Thanks for the pie. Pecan’s his favorite.”

  “It was the least I could do.” She nodded then motioned over her shoulder. “I should really get the rehearsal going.”

  “Wait, so that’s it?” I didn’t know what I was doing, but I couldn’t just leave things like this.

  She pursed her lips, grabbed my elbow, and towed me out the back of the auditorium into the empty hallway. Bella took a deep breath, as if centering herself. “What do you want me to say?”

  “I don’t know, some acknowledgment of what’s been going on between us? Of where we go from here?”

  “Where we go from here?” She threw up her hands. “I don’t know why you’re asking me. You’ve made all the choices. You’re going to L.A., back to your life and career, and I’m left here, picking up the pieces.”

  “That’s not fair. It’s not like I want to leave—”

  “Then don’t, Cade. You’re a grown man. Last I checked, you run your own life. Not your publicist or your manager or whoever else. You’re going back to L.A. because you chose to.”

  “I’m under contract and I made a commitment to the band. I can’t let the guys down. We’ve been together for a decade, Bella. A decade. They’ve stood by my side through everything. You can’t ask me to just drop everything.”

  She closed her eyes and shook her head. “Of course, the band always comes first. And yet again, I’m left holding the bag.”

  “I’m not your ex, Bella. This is different.”

  “You’re right. Because this time I’m going to lose my job, too.” Her eyes opened in an angry flash.

  Indignation heated my blood. I was an idiot. A complete fool. Everyone always wanted a piece of something from me. And I believed Bella was different.

  “Are you more upset that I’m leaving,” I hissed through clenched teeth, closing the distance between us, “or that you’re losing your poster boy before the school board gets a crack at him?”

  She let out a huff. “Nice piece of revisionist history there. I never asked for your help. I didn’t want your help.” She stepped closer until we were inches apart, every fiber of her body straight and rigid. “I’m not a damsel in distress and you were never my knight in shining armor.”

  “Yet when push came to shove, you ate it up like everyone else.” I stumbled back a step and sized her up, slowly. “The dressing room, you let me kiss you. Was that part of your game?”

  Her mouth fell open.

  “Just one damn time,” I derided. “One time, I thought I’d found someone who wasn’t using me. Took you longer than most to show your true colors, so kudos for that.”

  Tears shimmered in her eyes. “I don’t want a goddamn thing from you, Cade.”

  “Good. Because that’s all I’ve got for you.” I stormed past her, heading for the car, and grit back a forming scream. I wanted to roar with fury. What the hell had just happened? I turned stiffly and marched toward the door. Confused, numb. Filled with a growing suspicion that Bella Pagano had slammed the door firmly in my face.

  “Cade!” A voice called out after me. I turned. The backstage door was swinging shut. Bella was gone, but Jeremy was jogging toward me. “Hey, I’ve been working on the chords you showed me. Can I show you?”

  “Sorry man, I’m heading out.”

  “Thursday, then?”

  “No, I mean, I’m leaving. Back to L.A.”

  “What about the show?” Jeremy’s eyebrows drew together.

  I shook my head. “I have to get back for a gig with the band.”

  “What the hell? We added extra nights. Because of you.”

  I winced. “You guys’ll be fine. Show’s already sold out, right?”

  “So, you’re just bouncing on parole?”

  “The judge lifted my sentence. I’m sorry—”

  “This is bullshit.” Jeremy recoiled. “I have to finish my sentence, but you get out of yours? Must be nice to have money to throw at the system.”

  “I didn’t—”

  “That sick of us, huh? Of this shit town?”

  I clenched my jaw and started to turn—I didn’t have time for this–then thought better of it and faced the angry young man once more. Not too long ago, I was just like him. Pissed at the world. At the injustice of being dealt a shit hand. Afraid. Restless.

  Drawing in a slow breath, I sa
id, “I’m sorry. I’m truly sorry.”

  “No, you’re not.” Jeremy twisted away to hide the building emotion behind his eyes. “You’re like all the rest. Getting off on convincing others you care. But, at first chance, you bail.” He stormed out, flipping me off before slamming open the backstage door and disappearing.

  After a moment, I shook off my surprise and shoved out into the spitting rain, my teeth grinding. Coming here had sure as hell popped the idyllic bubble I’d been living in the past five weeks. But that was good—now I could see that shit was as fake as all the rest.

  I would never live a normal life. People would always see me as an object–to worship and to use. Besides Gramps, that is. But he didn’t count.

  Now I could leave without looking back.

  Still, when I reached the truck, I peered at the auditorium one last time. Something just didn’t feel right with how things went down this afternoon, no matter how angry I was this moment.

  No, not angry.

  Heartbroken.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Bella

  I made it through rehearsal in a fog. Anger thrummed in my veins. Anger at Cade, at myself, at my mother, at that stupid little seed that had somehow given me false hope. What had I been thinking?

  I knew this would happen . . . that was the song playing on repeat on my head. Not very catchy—but an earworm, nonetheless.

  As the kids ambled out into the damp Fall evening, I fielded questions about Cade’s absence with vague and noncommittal answers. I would make an announcement at our next rehearsal. I couldn’t deal with that problem right now.

  I walked out to my car, putting my hood up against the onslaught of rain. The weather suited my mood perfectly. All I wanted was to drown my sorrows in a jumbo-sized glass of wine. I knew this would happen . . .

  My phone rang in my purse and I scrambled for it as I slid into the dry car. It was Mamma. Oh hell, no. No way I was picking up that call. She had a nose like a bloodhound for my romantic misfortunes. And I was not ready to talk to her about Cade.