Memories Under the Mistletoe

by Dawn McClure

John rolled his eyes. Then he asked, “Drive a car or truck?”

  She was starting to sniff out where he was going with this. “Mercedes,” she said with a smile. She knew where his mind was going because hers had just taken a trip there with that Jessica woman not long ago. Mel had wanted to know what Jessica looked like, what she did for a living…it was a knee-jerk reaction to that gut-wrenching, green-eyed monster. Having felt this way so recently helped her identify it easily: John was jealous.

  Liam wasn’t anything like John. They were polar opposites. The things they held important were completely different. Liam was a great guy, he’d just been raised with priorities that didn’t top her list. In order to get his father’s attention, he’d had to work for it—in the very literal sense. That realization had always torn at her heart. She couldn’t blame Liam for the way he was. John? He genuinely cared about people. Always had. Those qualities were reflected in the way he was raised.

  “Well, I guess I won’t be invited to the wedding, but it sounds like you hooked a good one.”

  Fish referencing again. Damn. “I’m probably going to break up with him after the holidays,” she blurted out.

  He stared at her for a good, long while, his brows coming together. “You just said you didn’t know if you were going to say yes or no to his proposal.”

  “Doesn’t that ring as a dead no to you? If someone is in love, then they don’t have to think too hard about saying yes to a marriage proposal. It’s like my friend Cindy said: he’s rich, he’s hot—”

  “Nice.”

  “He’s educated, well-spoken, he’s—”

  “I get the picture.”

  Mel tried not to smile and failed. “Anyway, Cindy asked me to name one reason I shouldn’t say yes to his proposal. I kinda played with some ideas. Like I don’t think he’d spend as much time with his children as I think a father should, or that he isn’t that into animals, but I knew she wanted a solid reason. Like he was an alcoholic or didn’t put time or effort into the relationship. But I couldn’t come up with one reason. He’s a great guy and all…but…”

  She wasn’t sure what else to say.

  “I bet you could come up with a handful of reasons not to marry me.”

  Hell yeah she could. In fact, she’d tossed around those reasons as a deterrent to her returning feelings for the past few days, so she was able to throw them out there like she had just been a first-round pick for a professional pitcher in the MLB. “You live in another state, for one. You’re kind of annoying like my brothers, and sometimes I’d just like to sock you in the face. Hard.” She scrunched her nose when she looked directly at the growth on his face. “That beard is not high on my list, to be honest. I was shocked when I first saw you. Like maybe not in a horrible way, but that beard has got to go. You try to get the last word in—”

  “Wow. You’re a real confidence builder, I swear. Would there be any reason at all to say yes to a hick like me?”

  She laughed at the look on his face. A little annoyance mixed with amusement. He wasn’t as guarded as he’d been the past week. “Yeah. Of course there is. You’re hard working. You’re already part of the family. You’re good with kids. Would make a great dad. A fantastic husband. You’re…” she trailed off, feeling stupid as hell. Too late, she realized she was getting a little too enthusiastic with John’s strong points. She cleared her throat and took a little sip of her mocha.

  “Go on,” he said, when she stopped. “You’re finally making some valid points.”

  She could see herself saying yes to a proposal from John because, well, he was John Harrison. The obnoxious kid her brothers used to play with. The charming boy who worked across the street with his dad and brother. The hot football player she went to school with. The cute guy who’d asked her out on a date. Her first kiss. Her first love.

  He was John.

  “Why haven’t you ever gotten married?” she asked, suddenly breathless again and wanting to divert the conversation from all the gushing that had just spewed from her mouth.

  John stared at her as though he could see clear down to her soul. He didn’t say anything for so long she wondered if he even remembered what she’d asked him. But his calm, softly-spoken answer told her he hadn’t forgotten at all.

  “Because you’re a hard show to follow, Freckles.”

  _______

  Mel laughed so hard her whole body was tense and she couldn’t breathe. Her abdomen was sore, as though she’d done a thousand sit ups, but all she’d done was sit in front of the gas fireplace and reminisce with John for the past few hours. It had to be well past midnight. The storm was still raging outside, but the generator was running nicely, thank to John.

  Also thanks to John, she hadn’t laughed so hard in years.

  “I’m not making this up,” John said, laughing as he told the story. “Brian got in my face, probably on his tiptoes because he was a seventh grader and I was a junior in high school, and he told me I’d better treat you right or he was going to kick my ass. I can still remember to this day how his jaw was clenched and his eyes were narrowed. I think he thought he actually could kick my ass.”

  “You never told me this. What did you say?”

  John shrugged. “The kid was protecting his sister, and I respected that, so I pretended I was a little scared of him and solemnly swore that I’d never hurt you. He seemed mollified and went about his business.”

  She half laughed, half snorted, and wholeheartedly loved the visual she got of her younger brother Brian standing up for her like that. Half the time her brothers had beat on her as though she were just another one of the boys, and the other half of their time was spent coddling her. She’d never known which type of treatment she would get from one moment to the next. “I don’t know if I could have kept a straight face.”

  “How could I not? The little shit was on a mission to protect his sister’s virtue. Who was I to laugh at that?”

  “You’re laughing at it now,” she pointed out.

  “Oh, once he was out of range I laughed back then too. Damn hard.”

  Mel took another sip of her coffee. John had made the coffee, declaring about a half hour ago that she had no idea what good coffee entailed, even though she’d grown up in this café and had been slinging coffee before she’d been in high school. She swallowed the warm liquid with a grimace. It certainly wasn’t sweet like she liked it, even after two teaspoons of sugar, but it was laced with caffeine, and John had made it for her, so she was going to drink it.

  For the past few hours they’d thrown ancient stories back and forth, laughed and joked, and had caught up with one another. The storm had become much worse, the wind beating against the building and no doubt tossing snow into drifts. The drift against the window had to be five feet or better. But inside the café, thanks to the generator, they were comfy, warm and enjoying themselves.

  She couldn’t remember the last time she’d done something like this with Liam. Something completely insignificant, joyful, and mundane that had kept them from their cell phones and any potential outside distractions. John hadn’t touched his phone since he’d handed it to her to call her mom when he’d first walked in.

  The conversation between her and John had melted the time between them, leaving very little space. The feeling of familiarity loosened her tongue. “You know, I always imagined you in college hanging out with all the older, sophisticated girls. It used to drive me crazy back then.” She took another sip of coffee, wondering why she’d just admitted that. She didn’t want to bring up any bad vibes. She tried to cover up the blurted confession. “Not that it matters now.”

  Facepalm. Good one, Mel.

  “Sophisticated?” He laughed. “What in the hell would make you think they were sophisticated?”

  “Maybe experienced is a better word.” Shut up. You’re making this worse! “I mean, I was only a junior in high school. College seemed to be leagues away from Friday night football games in Pine Grove.” She shrugged, feeling dumb
for bringing it up. “I was just insecure.”

  He slowly shook his head. “You could have asked Tim what I did. Or better yet, ask him to keep an eye on me if that was what you were worried about. I was fine with waiting for you.”

  She shouldn’t have brought it up. The mood suddenly shifted, causing her to blush. Blushing at the age of twenty-six. What a crock. She was here to close chapters. To make a decision regarding her life and her future. Not flirt with her old high school boyfriend. “Well, I guess it’s in the past anyway.”

  John cleared his throat. “So, about this Liam guy. What makes you hold back?”

  The first thing that popped into her head was: because he’s not you. The sentence, though unspoken, rattled her enough to make her stand up and ask him if he wanted more coffee. His expression told her that he’d caught on that she didn’t want to discuss it.

  Since they’d been catching up and laughing, something about John had tugged at her. Made her want to lean in and kiss him. Tell him she’d like to see where things between them could go.

  But she couldn’t come back home to Pine Grove, so John was just as unattainable as her old dream of being a novelist. She had a possible advancement waiting for her when she returned to work—in California. She’d wanted an office at headquarters for years, and just because she wasn’t going to get a proposal on Christmas morning didn’t mean Cindy’s offer wasn’t still available. If Mel got that promotion, she wouldn’t have to go into the building on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays for afternoon meetings anymore. She’d already be in the building working for the actual magazine writing articles, not just blog fodder. She’d just need to walk down the hall to join a meeting.

  That promotion was something she’d busted her ass for over the three years she’d worked for them.

  John said he was good on coffee, so she headed behind the counter and grabbed a bottle of water. Being here with John was dredging up memories and feelings that had laid dormant for years. For the first time in forever, she thought about coming home. Really thought about it and allowed the possibilities to simmer.

  She supposed could stay on as a blog contributor and Skype in to the meetings. Melinda Richards from Ohio did that. Mel would be able to see her mother and brothers more often. Be able to drop by the café.

  And then there was John.

  She glanced at him. He sat in the chair in front of the fire, still wearing the work shirt he’d had on earlier when he’d come over to help them with the generator. He must have gone home and done some chores, because he didn’t look as though he’d slipped into something comfortable before her mother had called him to go on that rescue mission. His hair was a little messy from being outside. Her gaze took in his body. He sure was built.

  He’d always been strong and sturdy to her. A rock. Now twenty-eight, he seemed even more so. He screamed family man, and she really did want a family. Ached for one. But that fear of everything ending in a broken relationship had always stopped her from getting too serious with anyone—including John. She’d learned early in life that you couldn’t take a man at his word. Her mother could give a college class on that bit of knowledge. It was probably why she’d never given another man the time of day.

  So for Mel to choose a man over independence? A steady, well-paying job? Shit. Not likely. She was her mother’s daughter after all.

  But would she have to choose one or the other? Now that she wasn’t a hormonal teenager, when she thought of John, she truly didn’t think he’d hang her up to dry if they ever got married. But then she doubted her mother had ever thought that way of her father before they’d gotten hitched.

  “What are you thinking about?”

  Having zoned out while looking in his general direction, she was startled at his deep voice. “I um…nothing. Just getting a little tired.” The lie trickled out of her, an easy thing to do when her thoughts were so chaotic and personal.

  Because if she considered life in Pine Grove, it would be chaotic for a while.

  But once the dust settled, would she be happier?

  Chapter 14

  John would never have thought he’d be spending Christmas Eve with Melanie Edwards. Not even a short week ago. Hell, he wouldn’t have thought it while brushing his teeth this morning. It also would have never occurred to him that he’d be enjoying every minute of it. The time between them had blown away with the winds of the storm howling outside, and they’d talked about everything as though they were back in high school.

  Well, almost everything. Her bringing up his college years and the possible girls he’d hung around with had been a kick in the nuts. Hadn’t she known him better than that? Earlier this evening she’d bluntly admitted to having abandonment issues because of her dad leaving his family, so her unfounded fears of what he’d been doing—or in this case, not doing—in college made sense. He’d never picked up on her fears back then, though. He’d certainly never thought she’d project those types of negative feelings into their relationship. He wished she would have just spoken to him about her reservations back when they were dating instead of leaving for California the way she had.

  Things might have turned out drastically different if she’d confronted him with her fears. A relationship couldn’t survive without trust and communication. Those two things were the oxygen to a couple’s healthy relationship. Without those two, the foundation would begin to crumble—as theirs understandably had. Until now he’d never known why they’d faltered, but everything was beginning to make sense thanks to her revelation.

  He made his way to the counter, feeling a little like a caged dog who’d piddled on the carpet and had been thrown in the kennel. He hadn’t done anything wrong, but he felt as though he had. “If I drink any more coffee I’ll bounce off the walls,” he said, hoping to bring back the casual conversation they’d been having in front of the fireplace.

  She wiggled her bottle of water. “That’s why I’m drinking this. You want one?”

  He shook his head and settled down on the same stool she’d sat in when she’d asked him where he saw himself in five years. It occurred to him that he hadn’t asked her the same question. A week ago he would have thought she’d want to live among sky scrapers, crowds and have a concrete lawn. Now he wasn’t so sure. She’d been surprising him since she’d returned.

  Melanie Edwards on a cattle run in near-negative temperatures? Melanie shucking stalls? He’d have never believed it until last Saturday. Hell, he still had a hard time believing it and he’d been there to witness it.

  Might as well keep the conversation up with something that might shed some more light on where they stood. “Since you asked me earlier, I figure you can give it a go. So, where do you see yourself in five years?”

  She took a deep breath and set her water bottle on the countertop. “I’m afraid I only see where I don’t want to be.”

  He could tell by her closed-off expression that there was a lot she wasn’t saying. Full lips pulled thin. Perfectly sculpted eyebrows drawn south. It didn’t matter what he said or did, she wasn’t going to talk about where she saw herself in five years. Still, there was always more than one way to skin a cat. “All right. So where don’t you want to be?”

  By process of elimination, her answer should tell him all he needed to know.

  She took her time answering him. She usually spit things out, but tonight she seemed to take this question extremely serious.

  She finally looked over at him. “I don’t want you to read into what I say too hard.”

  Well, that threw him off-guard. “Isn’t that exactly what all these questions are for?” The one thing that kept popping into his mind tonight—or better yet, this morning—was how much he’d missed her. How much he’d missed their conversations. Their relationship. He couldn’t bring himself to tell her that, but all this reminiscing and all the questions they had for each other were to gauge what the other was going to do with their lives. And the overall question was: would they be back in each other’s
lives at all now that they’d connected again?

  At least to him that’s what the questions represented, and yet he doubted they’d be great friends after she headed back to California. Highly unlikely—but things seemed different tonight. Maybe he was just reading into things, but the air between them seemed electrified. He felt as though they were gaining part of their connection back.

  But in reality, she was only with him right now because they were forced to hunker down and take shelter in a blizzard. Earlier she’d told him he could take off, and she’d done it with a snarl. That didn’t exactly scream I-want-to-be-around-you to him. Also, she’d come home to close this chapter of theirs, not open it back up.

  “Part of me wants to come home.”

  Something that felt very close to the feeling of excitement took over his body. Her words stretched into the silence of the café. He could scarcely hear the hum of the generator. That certainly didn’t sound like something she didn’t want. Seemed like the rules had just reverted back to the original question. “To Pine Grove?” Clarification would be nice. Maybe she didn’t view Pine Grove as home anymore. But she hadn’t phrased that sentence in such a way that he’d think she meant California. Then she would have said, “Part of me wants to go home.”

  Or was that just wishful thinking on his part?

  She nodded. “Pine Grove.”

  Yeah. That was definitely excitement spreading throughout his body. Hope. The real possibility of being with Mel again had never taken root—until now. Until this very second. If she returned home to Pine Grove he’d stake a claim on her like a homesteader from the eighteen hundreds. She’d have to beat him off with a stick.

  He tried to sound chill. Tried to look like his ass was glued to the seat and not seem as though he could jump up and run a marathon. “Guess that’s something you’ll have to think on,” he drawled, nearly choking on the words as they left his mouth.

  While he was calm and collected on the outside, his inner breakdance at her simple nod would put the nineteen eighties Michael Jackson to shame. John honestly couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this way. Most likely the last time he’d felt this giddy was when she’d puckered up under the mistletoe the night of their first kiss.