Cole's Christmas Wish

by Tracy Madison

  “I’m sorry. This can’t be very enjoyable for you,” Andrew said, jabbing his poles hard into the snow. “But I’ll figure it out.”

  “Spending any time with you is enjoyable,” Rachel said firmly. And of course, that was true. What type of person would she be if it weren’t? “And you’ll absolutely get the hang of skiing. At some point, you’ll quit thinking so hard and your body will just react instinctively.” She smiled and slid forward, patted Andrew’s arm. “Until then, we’ll keep practicing.”

  “Keep falling, you mean,” Andrew said, surprising her with an actual joke. “But okay. Flat ground, huh?”

  “For a while. Until you feel a little more comfortable. First, though,” she said, jerking her chin toward the small slope they stood on top of, “we have to get to the bottom again.”

  “I have a feeling I’m using muscles I didn’t know existed, and that I’ll feel every one of those muscles tomorrow.” He nodded, breathed in deeply and carefully slid into place. “Here I go. Head up, skis parallel, use poles for balance.”

  “Yep. Just push off gently, once or twice, and let the snow carry you. Remember to lean forward and vee the skis as you approach the bottom, in order to stop.”

  Andrew quirked an eyebrow. “Or,” he said drily, “I can use the veer-out-of-control-until-you-lose-your-balance-and-crash-to-a-stop method. I’ve found that works quite well.”

  “Was that two jokes in a row, Mr. Serious?” She grinned and let her amusement bubble into a laugh. “Wedge your skis, balance your weight forward a tad, and you won’t fall. Promise.”

  “Uh-huh, if you say so.” He pulled in another breath, nodded and pushed off. She waited before following, mentally crossing her fingers and darn-near holding her breath to see if he’d make it to the bottom without his typical crash landing.

  He went down the slope easily enough, but as he approached the bottom, his body swayed forward a smidgen too far, and he veered wildly to the left. She was sure he was going to fall, again, but he managed to catch his balance and come to an awkward, skidding halt.

  Still standing, even. He turned toward her and raised his poles in a celebratory gesture. Her smile widened and she returned the gesture before sliding down to meet him.

  “See? This isn’t so hard,” she said when she stopped next to him. “Before too long, you’ll find this little ole slope boring as all get out and you’ll wonder why you ever thought skiing was difficult. Heck, I bet we’ll be up there—” she pointed toward the peak she’d been eyeing earlier “—before Christmas.”

  Andrew’s ruddy-from-the-cold complexion blanched. “That sounds terrific, Rachel. I only hope you won’t be overly disappointed if that doesn’t happen. I... Well, I don’t seem to have a natural inclination toward skiing, now do I?”

  She pieced together their various conversations, thought of the recreational activities he didn’t take part of—such as mountain climbing and bungee jumping—and suddenly, she got it. “You’re afraid of heights, aren’t you?”

  “I’m not afraid,” he said with a slight lift of his shoulders. “I just don’t particularly like them, which is why I’ve never bothered to learn how to ski. It isn’t a huge deal.”

  “Cole’s wrong. Women aren’t confusing, men are.” She shook her head, exasperated. “Why did you let me drag you here, then, Andrew? There is plenty for us to do on vacation. Skiing does not have to be one of our activities.”

  “You enjoy the sport. I...was trying to make you happy.” He shrugged again in a stiff, almost embarrassed manner. “I enjoy your happiness.”

  “I can be just as happy doing something else,” she said as warmth and contentment settled over her. Andrew truly was a great guy. A solid, dependable man who had a lot to give the right woman. She wanted to be that woman. It would make perfect sense.

  She waited for her pulse to speed up, for her heart to melt and her knees to shake...for anything other than the sweet simplicity of warmth and contentment to envelop her. None of which occurred. Why not? Why couldn’t she feel more for Andrew?

  What she did feel...was that enough? She didn’t know, but she was beginning to believe that might be the best she could attain. Not only with Andrew, though.

  With any man who wasn’t Cole.

  “Let’s get out of here,” she said, refusing to dwell on what she could never have. “We’re going to find a Christmas tree.”

  “Thank God,” Andrew said with a relieved grin. He bent down to unclasp the bindings on his skis, and then one by one, stepped out of them. When he stood straight again, he pulled her to him for a kiss. A long, slow kiss that should have set her blood on fire.

  But...no. Not even a flicker. The absence of that surprised her. Oh, their kisses had never ignited a blazing inferno, but they’d certainly held heat. Now, though, she felt nothing. Not even a barely there spark. What had happened?

  Instinctively, and without considering how Andrew might take it, she yanked herself out of his hold and removed her skis. “I was thinking after the tree, we could—”

  “What’s wrong, Rachel?” Andrew asked.

  “Nothing’s wrong!” she lied. “We’re in public, for one thing. And... Well, I’m excited about getting a tree and decorating. I’ve wanted to for days, you know.”

  She hadn’t meant to infer anything about Andrew’s workaholic nature, or even how he’d barely left her father’s office for the past two days. Truly. Her goal had only been to offer an excuse for her behavior, to give her some space that would then allow her to consider where, if anywhere, she wanted their relationship to go. To decide...the rest of her life, she supposed.

  Andrew, however, read all the wrong things in her words. “I’m sorry I haven’t been available,” he said in a tight, controlled voice. “Perhaps with all the time you spent with Cole yesterday and the day before, the two of you should have chosen a tree.”

  “That wasn’t what I meant. And he offered, but I told him no.” She grabbed her skis and started to storm off, not sure if she was angry with Andrew or herself. “I told him I’d promised you, and that you and I would do so together.”

  He caught up to her quickly, gripped her shoulder gently. “Rachel, wait. I am sorry. I’d really like to have a nice day with you. In fact, I’ll turn off my cell until...Monday. No interruptions for the rest of the weekend, how does that sound?”

  “You don’t have to do that,” she said without turning around. “I really do understand how important your company is to you, Andrew. I don’t want to stand in the way of that.”

  She expected him to reiterate his offer, to state unequivocally that he wanted nothing more than to spend a workless weekend with her. She should have known better.

  “Thank you,” he said without so much as a hint of a pause. “But I promise you’ll have my undivided attention for the rest of the afternoon. Seems a fair compromise, doesn’t it?”

  “How about long enough to get a tree and help me bring up the boxes of decorations from downstairs?” She couldn’t even be annoyed he’d backslid. Heck, if she wanted a workless weekend with Andrew, then she shouldn’t have let him off the hook. “Maybe even hang an ornament or two. Does that sound agreeable?”

  “Absolutely,” Andrew said, coming around to stand beside her. He tipped her chin toward him and kissed her lightly on the lips. “Maybe even three or four. Though, I might need to pause in between two and three, for a quick phone call. Say two ornaments per call?”

  “Hmm. I’d prefer three
.”

  “Deal.”

  “Careful,” Rachel said, “or I’ll talk you into stringing the lights, as well.”

  The tension eased, thank goodness. They both laughed and headed in the general direction of the car. Would a life with Andrew be one set of negotiations after another? She could almost hear them now, balancing how many nights he would work late as opposed to how many school plays or recitals he would attend.

  A weekend business trip? Sure, honey, as long as you show up for the neighborhood barbecue we’ve planned. What? You’ll be gone for a week? Well, then, how about that vacation we’ve been talking about for the past two years?

  She was probably being unfair. Andrew tried to make time for her, had since they’d started dating. He’d be the same as a husband, a father. He’d...try. She didn’t have any doubts about that. Except...well, trying wasn’t quite the same as doing, now was it?

  Cole wouldn’t have to try, he’d just...do. She knew this because she knew him. Had seen how he behaved with his parents and his siblings for a large chunk of her life.

  They were almost to the car when a realization slammed into being. Rachel jerked her body to a stop. Why had she thought the two men were so much alike? Good-looking, check. Good hearts, check. Both stood for what they believed in, check.

  Now, though, she understood something she hadn’t before, she saw the one trait that made Cole and Andrew as different as night and day. Andrew would always do his best by the people he loved and cared for, would always step up when he needed to. Of that, she also had no doubts. But Cole...Cole would never have to “step up.”

  He wouldn’t need to. He’d already be there, next to the people—the woman—he loved, day in and day out, through everything that came their way.

  And this she knew because that was how he was with her, his friend.

  She thought back, to the days after Cole’s accident, to everything that had happened. To the mind-numbing fear, the endless questions, the way he’d looked at her from his hospital bed. His fear when he learned his fall had likely ended his career.

  He’d been lost. And she had been so scared, for him, for his future, but mostly by the desperation she’d glimpsed in his gaze. Their friendship had existed for years—their kiss was less than twenty-four hours old. At that moment, Rachel hadn’t known how to be just his friend, and yet, she wasn’t his girlfriend. She was caught somewhere in the middle, out of place, in uncharted territory that seemed larger and scarier as the hours ticked by.

  Still, if it had not been for her father’s phone call, she would’ve stayed. Somehow, someway, she would’ve forced herself to stay by Cole’s side through every bit of everything he had to go through, despite her fear and her confusion of her place in his now vastly different world. Or maybe, over the course of time, she’d only convinced herself of that. She’d never know for sure, could only hope she’d have done what was right.

  What she had done, though, was listen to her father when he told her that her mother had “gone off the deep end” and required Rachel’s presence.

  A mistake, leaving. But she had, indeed, left. Worse, she’d almost felt relieved, because with her parents she understood her role. She knew how to behave. She knew what they expected from her. That was the easy and familiar choice, so she took it.

  And had regretted the decision ever since.

  Her plan had been to return as soon as she’d dealt with her mother, but Cole had told her not to. Between her guilt at leaving in the first place and those words—words that had hurt her—she’d listened and stayed away. Until last year, when he’d finally asked her to visit for Christmas. She never should have left, but she sure as hell should’ve come back.

  If their roles had been reversed, Cole wouldn’t have abandoned her for anything short of an all-out family emergency. He also would’ve returned the very second doing so became possible, despite anything she might have said.

  He was like that. Steadfast and sure.

  For the first time since learning of Cole’s relationship with Mary, Rachel felt, if not happy, grateful that he’d found someone. She only hoped that Mary was the woman Cole deserved, the woman that Rachel should have been when he’d needed her the most.

  It no longer mattered that Rachel had changed, that she wouldn’t make the same mistakes today. Now, all she could do was focus on the future. She looked up, saw that Andrew had reached the car and had turned around, searching for her.

  She waved and started walking toward him, toward a possible future that would include warmth and contentment, dinner-table negotiations and...well, very little skiing. It wasn’t hard to imagine creating a nice, uncomplicated life with Andrew. They’d do well together.

  But would it be enough? She’d like to think so. She really, really would. Somehow, though, she doubted that would be the case. She wanted more. And more meant...more. It meant knowing, to the very depths of your being, that you were with exactly the right person, and that you were exactly the right person for him.

  Andrew was a great guy, yes. But no, she couldn’t say—now understood she would never say—that he was exactly the right man for her. Only one man held that role. And...well, the fact that he’d found happiness with someone else didn’t alter the truth of Rachel’s life. Of what she wanted, dreamed for. Of what she refused to give up on.

  She couldn’t have Cole. Fine. She’d find a way to accept that depressing reality and move on, even if that possibility seemed ludicrous and impossible. But if she settled, if she surrendered her dreams in lieu of a sufficient life, she would never be happy.

  Andrew deserved more, as well.

  Oh, God. Was she really going to do this? Had she, in mere minutes, made a firm, final decision regarding her relationship with Andrew? She stopped again, breathed and started forward. Yes. As insane as it was, she had.

  She reached the car where Andrew waited, considered putting off the conversation until after they’d spent their day together, but that seemed...wrong. For both of them.

  Fine lines appeared in his brow as he appraised her. “I take it we’re going to the house,” he said with a small sigh. “Instead of tree shopping and Christmas decorating?”

  Common sense, the basic need for survival, almost had her refuting his instincts, but images of a future she didn’t want flipped through her mind, strengthening her instincts, and therefore, her decision. “That would be best. I’m sorry, Andrew. We should talk.”

  “Right. Well, I suppose I’ve been expecting this.” He gave her a searching type of look. “We could have a nice life together, Rachel. I was hoping—”

  “I know, Andrew,” she said, her heart heavy. “I was hoping, too.”

  “Is it the job?”

  “No. Not really.”

  “Is it Cole?”

  She hesitated. “In a way, but not how you think.”

  “I don’t understand, then. I thought—” Stopping, he shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. Let’s go. We’ll finish this discussion at the house.”

  Neither of them spoke another word throughout the drive home. Once there, there wasn’t a whole lot more to say. Andrew accepted her explanation, made flight arrangements for the following morning and then spent the rest of the day and the evening in her father’s office.

  It was, all in all, rather anticlimactic.

  Chapter Seven

  During the drive to the airport on Sunday morning, Andrew seemed to be in good spirits, checking his email an
d reading off bits of the daily news to her. Somewhat surprising, considering the circumstances. Three days ago, they’d been a couple. In the small, small gap of time in between then and now, they were going their separate ways.

  Mind-boggling, really. And depressing as hell.

  Rachel had woken in the throes of second-guessing her decision. Obviously, she’d lost her mind. What was so wrong with a sufficient life, anyway? She could find some type of happiness in that, couldn’t she? Then, in the next second, she’d think of Cole, of how freaking happy he was with Mary, of how his smile lit up whenever he talked about her.

  Jealousy came next. She’d give just about anything to be in Cupcake’s shoes, even if it meant being called a name more suited for a toy poodle than a human being. That would bring her thoughts back around to Andrew, to her decision, and how the thought of being alone and without Cole seemed so much worse, lonelier and emptier, than going forward with Andrew.

  For a good hour or so, as she showered and readied herself for the day, her mind circled through these and similar thoughts. Analyzing, comparing, considering. Almost getting to the point of asking Andrew to stay through Christmas, and then backing off again.

  What had finally settled the matter once and for all was realizing a not-so-pleasant truth about herself: she almost always chose the easier route. If one path made her uncomfortable, she went the other way. If that route became bumpy, she took the next fork in the road she could find. And dammit, this time she wasn’t going to do that.

  This time, she chose the more difficult path because it was the right path.

  She swallowed, switched on her left-hand turn signal and tried to think of something appropriate to say. Her mother had taught her many things, but what to discuss with the man you’d just broken up with as you drove him out of town was, sadly, not one of them.