by Bellus, HJ
This. This right here is just what I needed. The stress and anxiety of being an adult has been washed away with my family surrounding me and Christmas cheer surrounding us.
“I’ll be back,” I announce taking one more sip of Dad’s coffee.
“Momma.” Grace pats her chest. “Stay.”
She nods, her crazy hair flying everywhere. She does her best to brush it out of her eyes.
“Yes, you stay.” I go to her and kneel down kissing the top of her head. “I’ll be right back.”
“Come here, little mommy.” Ivy nears us. “Let’s tame that hair of yours before decorations get tangled in your rat’s mess.”
“Yeah, make yourself useful.” Jake reaches forward as Ivy bends down gifting her with a loud smack to her ass.
Ivy shoots upright with Grace in her hands, her face blazing with embarrassment. I don’t miss the look the two exchange before I leave the room. I swear they need to rip the Band-Aid off, get between the sheets, and move on.
The thought makes me smirk as I tug on my gloves, hat, and thick winter coat. The loop of cabins surrounding the B & B is a nice walk. It’s a beautiful day in Cringle Cove with a light nip of chill in the air. Large glistening snowflakes fall all around me as I walk up the sidewalk.
There’s no way to explain the perfect beauty of being surrounded by snow. It’s a silence that’s so peaceful it makes you believe in miracles. There’s been many mornings since Grace was born that I’d step out on the porch with a cup of hot coffee letting the wonder fall all around me. In those moments, I knew everything would be okay.
Like I predicted the first few houses are answered by workers, house sitters, or family of the owners who are using it for the week. Mr. and Mrs. James answered their door. They’re a rare breed who live here all year around. I consider myself lucky that I got out there in forty-five minutes and was only forced to eat a few cookies. But it was all worth it because I got three loaves of their famous rum cake that I will not be sharing with anyone.
I tighten the grip on the handle of the basket nearing the enormous cabin I’ve avoided even walking a further route than I had to. No way he’s here. It was just a coincidence earlier when I saw a truck that looked like his pass us. The McDaniels cabin has always intimidated me; even when I was a kid. It’s by far one of the most influent and elaborate in Cringle Cove.
Roan hated it growing up. He’d always stay at his Grandpa’s place on the outskirts of town. The two bedroom cabin with a fireplace in the center of it was home away from home for Roan. My heart squeezes thinking of Pops. That man was one hell of a guy.
I clutch my finger around the metal knocker taking in a sharp breath and knock it three times and begin counting down from thirty. That’s all I’m waiting.
I know for sure the McDaniels will have help here keeping up the mansion. The family themselves are barely here anymore. Not even Grey, Roan’s brother is ever seen here. He lives in their Pop’s cabin. Had for months when his health was failing and then remained there after they buried Pop.
I find myself distracted from counting and thinking about Grey. He owns The Cove, the local bar, here. He’s a good guy with a level head and the guy everyone loves. He makes you feel like family and is sure to sling you plenty of drinks to wash away the stress you’re running from.
He tried apologizing once for his brother, but I stopped him and we vowed to never talk about him again. In my gut, I have a feeling Grey remained close to Roan over the years.
I jolt upright when the door swings wide open. My jaw goes slack and I take a step back.
“Poppy.” Roan leans on the door with a smile on his face.
Shit. Shit. Shit. He’s in a pair of worn blue jeans, shirtless, and then he seals the deal when he runs his hand through his damp hair pulling it from his eyes.
I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. I thrust the last box of treats toward him, ready to spin on my heels and get the hell out of there. Roan is quicker grabbing my forearm and tugging me in the foyer. My boots echo out a soft thump sound once they hit the marble. The front door slams startling me even further.
“I’m not going to hurt you, Poppy.” He pulls on my arm until we are sitting at an enormous dining room table big enough for twenty or more. It has gorgeous greenery running up and down the length with pops of red berries and twinkling lights.
“I don’t think you could hurt me.” The words are out before I can slap my hand over my mouth.
Roan looks up from popping open the container of sweets. “Mudballs, oh my God, these have always been my favorite.”
He pops a chocolate covered peanut butter ball into his mouth and then slides over a tumbler of whiskey my direction. I eye it with question.
He clears his throat. “I saw you making the loop knowing damn well you’d stop here because your mom would have your hide if you came home with any gift boxes.”
My fingers tremble around the tumbler as I bring it to my lips. Something tells me I’m going to need this drink to get through this.
“Poured us a few drinks and was hoping like hell I could get you to sit down and listen to me.”
I take another long gulp then it hits me. “Didn’t you just get out of rehab?”
Roan quirks up an eyebrow accompanied with a crooked grin that gets me every single time. “You’ve been following me, Poppy?”
I shoot up out of the seat. “No, it’s kind of hard not to know everything about you. I can’t even listen to the damn radio station without hearing a news story on you or one of your stupid songs. I don’t follow you. No, you’re forced in my face every turn reminding me of my biggest mistake.”
“Hey.” Roan stands up placing his palms on the top of my shoulders. “It was a joke and a poorly timed one.”
I squeeze my eyes shut not wanting to be this close to him. He’s dangerous and I’m weak; not a good combination at all. Roan drops his forehead to mine brushing the pad of his thumb along my jawline.
“I’m back here to apologize for shit I’ve done. I wasn’t in rehab. That’s the way the media spun it. Everything became too much for me and I needed a break. I didn’t even care how my publicist played it out. I broke.”
I vow to remain strong and steady and not fall down this rabbit hole. The genuine and raw honesty in each of his words has me weakening.
“Okay.” I keep my eyes closed.
“I knew you’d push me away and have all rights to. I’ve also picked up on the fact you don’t want to be around me, so just hear me out and I’ll leave you alone, Poppy.”
I nod and clear my throat. “Okay.”
I back away and take my seat bringing the tumbler of sweet whiskey to my lips. I steady the shaking action of my hand and set it back down. Before Roan has a chance to open his mouth, years worth of pent-up hurt, anger, and bitterness flows out of me.
“You left me Roan. We had a plan. I get you going before me, but the day you drove out of town you never once made an effort to bring me into your life. You left me at one of my lowest times. It was our dream.” I pound my chest. “We were both going to sing on that stage together.”
He drops his head no smile or cockiness in sight. His elbows rest on the top of his thighs clutching his fists together.
“I did. You’re right.” He clears his throat. “I got one glimpse of attention and fame and never looked back. It was all about me. It was a cruel cycle, I wanted to do better and bigger things and worked myself to death to do that. It was never good enough. I lost myself on the way. Broke. Took off for months to a secluded mountain in Idaho just thinking about everything I’d done wrong. Knew it had all become too much.”
“And now you’re here,” I whisper.
He nods looking back up to me. “I’m here in the house I hate. I have to face shit that drove me to be a greedy bastard I didn’t even recognize.”
“You’re not a drunk?” I ask, having no idea where that question came from.
He brings his tumbler to his lips taking a lon
g drink. “Nope and never touched coke or the other shit that’s backstage at every concert.”
“Women?” Lord, here I am just ripping off all of the Band-Aids.
“Yep, there were lots of women, Poppy, I won’t lie. I’ve done stuff I’m not proud of. I have to face that shit, accept it, apologize and move on.”
“That was the hardest part, Roan.” I drop my head unable to look him in the eye any longer. “Seeing you with those other women. The first one was just months after you left here.”
“I’m sorry, Poppy. You have no damn idea how sorry I am and will be forever. There’s no excuse besides I was a greedy douchebag.”
I stand. “Thank you, Roan, and I mean it. Took a lot of courage for you to do that.”
Stupid tears well up in my eyes. I force them back refusing to let one of them fall.
Roan grabs my hand. “It was always you, Poppy, always, every single time.”
I manage a small grin before turning and walking out of the McDaniels mansion rattled like every time before.
Chapter 4
“Everyone ready?” Mom claps her mitten-covered hands together.
Everyone, but Grace groans in protest. Dad adjusts the guitar he’s holding. He may look disgruntled, but I know he loves this.
The annual caroling always begins at the B & B with friends and family gathering then making a loop around Cringle Cove. Jake tips his thermos back taking a long drink. He can’t sing sober and is even worse when he’s drunk. Ivy stands next to him and my attention is drawn to their linked fingers. This makes me smile.
Dad knew something was wrong when I got home last night. Mom was putting Grace down and I spilled everything to my dad. He listened like he always did while his chest caught my tears.
“He’s always been a good kid. He screwed up and is now trying right his wrongs. That’s admirable.”
And that’s all he said. I slept like shit last night and have been distracted all day thinking I’d run into Roan again, but haven’t. I guess it would be hard to do considering I was in the kitchen all day preparing our dinner and holiday meal. It’s tradition to have tamales one night leading up to Christmas. They’re delicious, but also very tedious to make and when you have two brothers who are garbage disposals that means a lot of time in the kitchen.
“Got room for one more?” A deep familiar voice carries over the building crowd in the open space of the inn.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Jake grits out.
“Not on my fucking watch,” Brad hisses.
“Boys.” Dad gets up in their faces. “Not tonight. Not here or ever.”
“If he looks at Poppy I’ll crush his face,” Brad responds.
“No you won’t, dammit. Don’t ruin Christmas.”
And that’s that. Mom squeals in delight, never one to turn anyone away especially during the holidays. I slink back in the crowd rattled Roan is here and also a bit excited if I’m being honest.
Grace rounds the corner screeching out her version of Jingle Bells. Pretty sure I’m the only one that knows that fact. Ivy has her hair piled up on her head and finished it off with bright red headband and large bow that matches her fuzzy boots and thick jacket.
“Grace.” Dad booms out. “Aren’t you just a little festive elf.”
“Pa.” She darts to him holding her hands up.
I watch Roan from a distance as he studies the interaction.
“Grandpa, eh?” Roan nods in Grace’s direction. “Congratulations.”
Roan always loved my dad. He was closer to him than his own father.
“Yep, damn proud of that title.” Dad kisses Grace’s chubby cheek.
“Jake or Brad’s?” Roan asks.
Ivy does her best to pull both of my brothers back hissing something to them. If I had to guess it was the threat of cutting their balls off if they make a scene.
Dad doesn’t get a chance to answer the question. Grace spots and points a chubby finger.
“Momma! Momma! We sing.” She claps her tiny hands together.
All attention is on me now. I can’t look at Roan. I refuse to. It’s all too much. Grace loves singing and I know it’s from the time I’ve spent rocking and singing to her. There were many times I wondered how it would be if Roan was in the picture. I shake my head free from all the what-ifs.
“Time to go!” I grab her from Dad’s arm.
Grace remains clueless to everything that went on around us her Christmas excitement on full force. Jake and Brad remained flanked on each side of me as we walk to each house stopping to sing a few carols. Our group grows in size and we don’t sound half bad. I catch glimpses of Roan out of the corner of my eye every once in a while. It’s a stark difference seeing him sing with the big stage, spotlights, and microphones. It’s a sight to see.
“Poppy.” I look back to Mom and Dad to see them huddled up with huge beaming smiles. They each give me a nod.
I know what happens next. It’s happened for every Christmas since I can remember. The one song I’d sing by myself even when Roan was around in our teen years when his parents weren’t jet-setting the country. Tonight it’s no different. I find myself feeling insecure and brazen at the same time. I still have my voice and so many damn blessings in my life even if I’m about to lose the family B & B.
Mom takes a step away from Dad. He gently begins strumming the music to O Holy Night.
The sound of my familiar song I’ve loved so dearly each Christmas season makes me want to turn and run. Grace wiggles in my arms and places a slobbery kiss on my cheek fueling me on.
I hit each word like I’ve never sang before. My voice piercing the frozen air with everyone in our group rocking back and forth. I let it all out in a Christmas carol. I don’t let the fear, judgment, or heartache stop me. Wetness rolls down my face. I don’t dare to brush away the tears choosing instead to wear them like a piece of cherished gold.
Then there’s silence once the last word leaves my mouth. The moment is short lived as we all sing Jingle Bells on the way back to the inn. It’s tradition to invite the whole group in for hot cocoa, coffee, and pie. It takes everything inside of me to not look back to see if Roan is following the crowd.
It’s sheer chaos once inside. I relish in the warmth the inn has to offer as I busy myself slicing up pie in the kitchen while Mom, Dad, my brothers, and Ivy stay in the open area entertaining family and friends. The light music playing overheard and genuine laughter floating around reminds me why I’d give anything to save this place. Not one of the Hollywood bright lights have any power over this.
“Need any help?”
I startle dropping the serving spatula and whirling around to see Roan leaning on the island with gentle smile playing out on his face.
“Damn.” I slap the worn counter of the island. “You scared the crap out of me.”
“Sorry.” He shrugs taking a step closer to me. His scent washing over me. “Watched you for a bit, but you were so into getting the pies plated you never once looked up.”
“Yeah.” I wipe my palms down the front of my apron. “It’s tradition.”
“I forgot how good it feels.” He takes a step closer. “Thank you, Poppy.”
“For what?” I tilt my head.
“Not shutting me out of all of this.” He dips his head. “I don’t deserve it, but it’s what I want. Don’t know that I’ll ever be able to fully enjoy this, knowing how I turned my back on everything that’s right in the world.”
I don’t know how to respond, so of course the first thing in my mind flies off the tip of my tongue. “I’m thinking you should believe in Christmas miracles right now since Jake and Brad didn’t kill you.”
He chuckle long and hard looking back up at me. “Yeah, I was certain I was coming out of here with two black eyes.” He leans on the island. “I was certain I was a goner.”
“You have Dad to thank for that.”
“She’s beautiful, Poppy.”
I don’t have to ask who he’s ta
lking about. I noticed all the stolen glances he sent Grace’s way tonight.
“She looks just like you. She’s perfection.”
I want to blurt out everything about Grace’s father just to let him know it wasn’t love, but a one night stand. And the fact I’ve tried to love over the years, but could never find it in me. I wasn’t some hopeless fool waiting for the king of country to come back to me. No, I was fighting to find my spark again. I kept falling short.
“Thank you,” I whisper. That’s all I can manage to get out.
Baby, It’s Cold Outside begins streaming from the main part of the inn drowning the awkward silence surrounding us. The longer it plays the worse it gets.
Roan is the first one to make a move. He doesn’t ask before taking me in his arms. The smooth sound of the piano and trumpet then tender voices invade me and then I’m rocking back and forth in Roan’s arms.
His hand clasped in mine while he keeps his hand on my hip. It’s all so overwhelming I drop my forehead to his shoulder. Roan begins singing the words to the song. It’s nothing edited or fine-tuned. Raw and pure honesty floats between us.
“Jesus, Poppy, this is everything,” he mumbles into the top of my head.
I don’t know how to respond. I’m numb and wild with life. It’s too much and not enough. I’m no idiot and know this man will walk right out of my life once again leaving me behind. He has a legacy to live up to and it’s a damn impressive one. These thoughts snap me into action.
I push off his chest and look right into his deep, rich espresso-colored eyes. “I thought you were trying to stay undercover, Roan, and now all of this.”
I throw my arms out to my sides knowing damn well all the guests out in the lobby know who he is. Not one of them made a big deal about him besides my brothers wanting to kill him.
Roan takes the beanie from his head running his hands through his thick, dark hair making it stand on end. “That was the plan until I ran into you.”
“Mommy!” Grace interrupts us running into the kitchen with her hands up in the air. “Pie! Pie! Pie!”