~*~
Andrea sat across from Stuart Bissell at a table against one wood-planked wall of the pub. As he droned on about his failed marriage, Andrea suspected his self-absorbed behavior might be a large part of the problem rather than his ex-wife’s dedication to Chinese martial arts. Stay focused Andrea. She twirled a French fry in tartar sauce and surreptitiously glanced yet again at her cell phone. Remember what you’re doing this for, think about that beautiful porcelain teapot sitting behind the bar. Think about the bell. Think about Ben...
“Don’t you think?” Stuart asked.
She was only distantly aware of the fact he had directed a question her way because at that moment a tall man with wide shoulders and dark brown hair strolled through the door. Something about him captured her attention. Not something really, because what had her riveted was that he looked so much like...
Ben?
No, couldn’t be. She only thought it was him because he’d been so much on her mind lately.
The guy turned enough for her to catch a glimpse of his profile and she froze. Definitely Ben. She couldn’t help but take a moment to reel at the sight of him. She’d seen photos, so she knew he’d changed since high school. Pictures hadn’t adequately captured this extreme before-and-after effect. Ben Fisher but not Ben Fisher. Same close-cut dark brown hair, same lanky build. But back then he’d been so skinny, jutting bony angles of elbows and knees. And with that prominent nose, strong jaw, and mile-wide smile, he’d had a little too much of everything it had seemed, including brains. But now? He’d filled out, to say the least. Now, it all just...meshed.
What was he doing here? He wasn’t supposed to be home for two more days. Panic flooded in to displace her surprise and appreciation because the problem was that she wasn’t ready to see him. Not like this. She’d imagined him calling or texting when he got to town. They’d meet for coffee—they’d often joked about the fact that they both drank way too much coffee. She’d be fun and witty while impressing him with her knowledge of history, antiques, and recent advances in software development. Okay, the latter she’d been meaning to read up on, but the thought caused her eyes to glaze over. Her plan was to ask him about software and then pepper him with intelligent-sounding comments and questions. Of course, she’d also wear clean clothes and brush her hair...
“Are you okay?” Stu asked. “Andrea?”
She nabbed a menu from its home on the edge of the table between the ketchup and the malt vinegar. Holding it aloft, she attempted to take cover while keeping an eye on Ben. Relief rushed through her when he glanced their way but continued walking straight to the bar. He didn’t recognize her, thank the stars above. Probably ordering to go, she thought, which still didn’t give her much time. Speaking of time...She picked up her phone and watched the last of the three-thousand six-hundred seconds she’d programmed to mark the length of her date-slash-business deal scroll by. A giggle of relief bubbled up and out before she could muffle the sound.
Puffing up proudly, Stuart said, “I know. It’s a pretty funny story, right? People tell me how funny I am all the time. You’re in for a real treat if you continue to hang out with me.” He winked and added a click-click sound with one side of his mouth. Was he serious?
She opened her mouth to say something, but only one word slipped out. “Teapot.”
“What?” His face was a picture of bafflement. “Teapot?”
Forcing out an awkward laugh, she lied, “Um, yes, teapot. For some reason my grandmother used to call the ladies’ room the teapot. Will you excuse me, Stuart, while I use the teapot?”
Leaving Stuart smiling and nodding knowingly like she hadn’t made this nonsense up, she slipped out of her chair and hurried toward the back of the restaurant with absolutely no plan beyond not letting Ben see her.
Chapter 2
Ben sat on a stool and exchanged a long, friendly greeting with Walt.
He ordered a Shamrock burger, and swiveled around to see the back of a woman wearing faded jeans, a dingy oversized sweatshirt, thick-soled boots, and a long brown ponytail disappear into the hallway leading toward the restrooms. Something seemed familiar…Ben started to stand.
“How’s it going with Andrea?” Walt’s voice boomed.
He spun his head toward Walt. Settling on his stool again, Ben noticed a wiry guy with a thatch of black hair gelled straight back from his brow step up to the bar next to him. With his thick beard neatly groomed around his chin, he reminded Ben of a preppy werewolf.
“Great, Uncle Walt! I can’t believe how awesome Andrea is. I haven’t hit it off with a woman like this since my first date with Mindy. What did you say her last name is again?”
“Talbot.”
“Andrea Talbot?” Ben blurted.
“Yep. You know her?” Walt asked. “She’s a special one, my Andrea.”
“Uh, yeah, I do. She is...She’s...” Wearing dirty jeans and ugly boots? Odd, yes, for the poised and beautiful Andrea Talbot. But even odder was the ping of disappointment he felt at the idea of Andrea on a date.
Walt passed him a brown bag containing his to-go order while Stuart continued to ramble on about his date’s many virtues. He left the restaurant and climbed back into his rented SUV. Only minutes ago, he would have sworn he was hungry enough to consume three of Walt’s Shamrock burgers. Now, for reasons he didn’t want to acknowledge, the greasy smell oozing from the bag made him feel a little queasy.
~*~
Andrea slipped out of the ladies room, crept down the hall, and poked her head around the corner. No sign of Ben. She exhaled a breath while continuing to glance around. Could she really have gotten so lucky as to have escaped this humiliating situation?
After thanking Stuart for the lovely meal, she made up an appointment and bolted for the parking lot. A beaming Walt had whispered a thank-you and informed her he’d already stashed the teapot in her pickup.
She’d hightailed it over to her favorite porcelain collector, Mr. Shelton, where she’d sold the teapot for $220 plus an art deco Bakelite cigarette case. One positive business practice she’d learned from her father; never pass up an opportunity to move your inventory. Hopefully, it was the only trait she’d picked up from him. She’d just pulled to the curb at her next stop when her phone buzzed in her pocket. Ben, she thought, and her pulse jumped. Not Ben. It was Allison.
He should be texting any minute now. How much time would she need to shower and change in case he wanted to get together today? Thankfully, her beauty routine was much less labor intensive and time-consuming than it had been in high school. She imagined he would like that about her, and hopefully some other things as well.
Her phone remained stubbornly silent, so she climbed out of her pickup. Gretchen’s hours were erratic. Andrea hoped she was in; she really needed this sale.
~*~
Ben traveled the last few miles into Christmas Town, turned onto Jack Frost Avenue and lucked into a parking spot. Joining the other last minute holiday shoppers bustling along the sidewalks, he bought a cup of steaming hot coffee at The Tea Pot, his favorite bakery and coffee shop in town. He tried not to think about the fact that it was Andrea’s favorite, too.
Strolling along, the intrinsic charm of his hometown seeped into him along with the warmth of the coffee he sipped. The town square was blanketed in festive holiday décor. Miles of garland had been strung around the space and no doubt sported mistletoe at every requisite juncture. A kiss under Christmas Town’s legendary mistletoe on Christmas Eve was said to foretell a marriage in the New Year.
Colorful lights twinkled in the trees, along the eaves, and in the windows of the shops. Christmas music carried to him from somewhere across the square. Carolers, no doubt. Ben smiled in memory of the year their mom decided he and his brothers should join the singing troupe. What they lacked in skill they’d made up for with volume, until Mrs. McGuire had kindly suggested the Fisher brothers’ talents might be better served in decorating or volunteering at the Christmas Eve pageant.<
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Christmas Town’s appeal wasn’t only in the quaint holiday-themed storefronts. It was in the spirit of its residents. People took the responsibility of sharing the name of their town with one of the most exalted and celebrated of holidays very seriously.
Fresh flakes of snow swirled around his feet and on the snow-covered sidewalk in front of him. Pausing by a decorated lamp post, he tried to analyze his feelings for this place he’d both missed and avoided for the last eleven years. New businesses had appeared since he’d last been home three years ago; a pet store, a psychic, a CPA. Things change over time, but the essence of this town was the same. It was the perfect place to raise a family. He was surprised at how much comfort that realization brought him.
So, why didn’t he feel better about returning home to Christmas Town? He had a successful business, drew a nice salary, and owned a home near the beach. He’d done what he’d set out to do. He was no longer the awkward geek who’d left town with an academic scholarship and dreams of creating his own video games. Not only had he been the scrawny, smart but nerdy kid in school, he’d also believed he would never match up to his family of brawny, athletic firemen.
He’d had a lot to prove. And not only to his family, but to the town. To all the people like Andrea.
A well-used greenish-blue crew cab pickup rumbled up the street and parked across from him. A woman wearing boots, faded jeans, and an oversized barn coat jumped out. She pulled a long brown ponytail from the back of her jacket as she hustled up the sidewalk toward a narrow Victorian-style house. It was painted in shades of bright purple and pink and a shingle hanging out front read, “Gretchen Bieker, psychic, astrologer, tarot readings & more.”
Grungy clothes, a beat-up pickup, dates with werewolf impersonators, and psychics? Christmas Town might be the same as he remembered, but Ben was beginning to think that wasn’t the case with Andrea at all.
~*~
Andrea was delighted when she emerged from Gretchen Bieker’s house ten minutes later. Gretchen was a good client with a discerning eye and an avid collector of all things art deco. She hadn’t even balked at the price Andrea asked for the piece, even offering to throw in a free reading. Andrea declined the latter, not wanting to risk hearing any bad news ahead of time. She had plenty of that to deal with in the here and now.
Finally, maybe, things were looking up. With the sales she’d recently made, she could almost afford to pay her rent. Now, if only Ben would text or…She gasped and then slipped as she tried to stop mid-stride, because there he was, standing by her pickup.
Nervous tension coiled inside of her at the thought of her earlier close call. She let it go. All that energy wasted in trying to prevent him from seeing her like this, when the truth was, she looked like this more often than she didn’t these days. She tacked on a smile and hurried toward him.
“Ben, hi,” she gushed. “You’re home.” She wanted to give him a hug. She wanted him to hug her. But he stayed put and something about his demeanor caused her to hesitate.
The world around her shifted into slow motion, even the snowflakes seemed to pause in flight, as she studied his face. Something was wrong. He seemed to be examining her clothes, which were such an obvious contrast to his tailored wool trousers and designer-brand winter jacket. She felt her cheeks warm with embarrassment because this was exactly what she’d wanted to avoid. But, she reminded herself again, this was who she was. Not that spoiled, self-centered girl who’d once treated him badly. She could count on Ben to see through appearances. He’d done it before. Granted, the circumstances had been far different, but he was the same Ben.
He tipped his head toward Gretchen’s house. “I thought I’d learned a lot about you these last few months, but I had no idea you were into that kind of thing.”
“I’m not. It was business. I had to—”
“Andrea?” Gretchen called loudly from her porch. “The stars are aligned for you this holiday, dearie. Things that seem hopeless will fall into place. I checked your cards anyway and I wanted you to know.”
Andrea waved. “Thank you, Gretchen. That’s wonderful news. Merry Christmas.” Then she added a soft, “I could definitely use some alignment in my stars” before shifting her gaze back to his. “I was working. I sold her something. When did you get to town? You said you weren’t going to be home until the twenty-third.”
“I decided to come home a couple days early and surprise my family. I saw you earlier at Walt’s. On your date.”
“Oh.” Crap, she thought, and snuffled a laugh because the notion of her and Stuart was so ridiculous. Almost as ridiculous as trying to hide from Ben in the first place. “That wasn’t a date. Well, it was, but not like you’re thinking.”
He appeared unfazed. “You might want to clue him in on that. I heard him talking about you to Walt while you were in the ladies' room. He definitely thought it was a date.”
“It wasn’t. I saw you, too. I was hiding.”
“Hiding?”
“I didn’t want you to see me.”
Ben shook his head and she realized how that statement sounded.
“Not because I was on a date. I was…” She stopped to motion at herself. “I was on a pick this morning. In a barn. Full of dust and old stuff and…bat droppings. In addition to not exactly looking my best, I also stink a little. I was embarrassed for you to see me like this, okay?”
His lips curled up at the corners. She couldn’t tell if it was because he thought her shabby state was funny or because her date predicament was amusing.
“Having lunch with Stuart was a favor.” Also not sounding so great, she realized. “More like a trade actually,” she added.
“A trade?”
“For a teapot. I agreed to have a meal with Walt’s nephew in exchange for a teapot. It was a business thing.”
“Wow. You really are dedicated, aren’t you?”
She scowled. Was he being judge-y? If he only he knew the irony that statement held. And no, she reassured herself, Ben wouldn’t judge her in that way.
She attempted to clarify, “Walt is a friend. We’ve been doing business together for years. He was in a bind, I wanted his teapot, his nephew has been having woman trouble. Although after meeting him, I completely understand why.”
Ben chuckled. “You don’t need to explain anything to me. I’m just warning you, the guy might have other ideas. Any news on the bell?”
“Um…Nothing new. But, like I told you the other day, I’m not giving up. I’ll never give up. Not where my business is concerned anyway.”
He nodded and gave her a final once over. “Yeah, I can see that. I really need to get going. I haven’t even been home yet. We’ll talk later, okay?”
Andrea watched him walk away, her spirits sinking as he went. Talk about anticlimactic. This was not at all how she’d imagined their first meeting would go. Not even a little bit. Had she expected too much? She had hoped…She didn’t know what she’d hoped for exactly. She only knew that she’d been looking forward to seeing him. And then there was the obvious fact that while Ben had clearly flourished, she was busy floundering.
Chapter 3
Ben pulled into the driveway of his parents’ modest two-story home, putting aside his musings as to why he’d treated Andrea so coolly. He didn’t want to think about what was behind his unease. How, even in her disheveled state and her obvious discomfiture, looking at her caused this dull ache in his chest. He’d thought with the passing of years this reaction would have passed. Problem was he had really grown to like her over the last months. Again. Just like he had that semester in high school when he’d been her math tutor. For a few months the walls had come down between them. Until Ben had ruined it. He wasn’t going to ruin it this time.
The Fisher house was lit from peak to foundation with his dad’s enthusiastic display of lights. An illuminated nativity scene was new, and a nice touch. He looked up at his bedroom window. How many nights had he spent there with his telescope studying the starry sky?<
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He was surprised by the tug of longing he felt. Sure, he had a house, but he wanted a home like this—a wife, some kids, a couple cats, maybe even a dog. He wanted the same lovable chaos that had pervaded the Fisher home when he and his brothers were growing up.
After retrieving his bag from the back of the SUV, he walked around the vehicle to find his mom standing on the porch.
“Ben! Oh my goodness, you’re home. And you’re early.” Ellen Fisher cried. She wore a sweater decorated with Santa and a reindeer entangled together in a string of lights. Her thick brown hair, still free of gray, was swept away from her face with a red-and-green plaid headband.
“Hi, Mom.” He hurried up the steps and gave her a long hug.
She clutched his arm and chattered happily as she led him inside. A blast of memories greeted him along with the delicious scents of yeast and cinnamon. His mom was a fabulous cook. She also possessed a joy-filled spirit and a patient demeanor, which served her well in her tenure as both a school principal and the mother of three boys. Some of the best times he recalled from his childhood had transpired around the dining room table. Ellen Fisher insisted her family sit down for dinner together every night. Even when his dad had been working a shift at the fire house, his mom would gather the brothers for a lively meal. Ben found himself looking forward to that again.
Spending time with his fire chief dad and his two firefighter brothers was bittersweet at times. He had so badly wanted to be a part of their world. Firefighting, while in his blood, had not been in the cards for him. He didn’t need a psychologist to tell him where his love of collecting old firefighting objects stemmed from, and ultimately generated his obsession with obtaining the bell. Ben embraced this connection to firefighting he shared with his dad.
A Heartwarming Christmas: A Boxed Set of Twelve Sweet Holiday Romances Page 24