Love 2 Jingle U: A Sweet Vine Christmas Romance

by Alexandra Silva

  The reckless part of me wishes I’d taken him up on his offer of a few more days. But the realist in me knows it would have only made the goodbye that much more painful, and it’s hard enough as it is.

  Trying to keep busy, I grab my purse from the floor, opening it to slide my passport inside. While rifling around, I spot a small wrapped box I don’t recognize. Puzzled, I pull it out and drop my purse on the bed. Carefully unwrapping it, I find a box which I open and pull out what’s nestled inside.

  A bark of laughter escapes me before I can stop it. Whatever I was expecting, it wasn’t a dirty ornament. Two glittery reindeers going at it, one kneeling, the other taking it from behind. It’s hideous and hilarious and typical Adam.

  Soon my giggles turn to steady sobs. It’s not fair. He was perfect. Funny, gorgeous, honest, kind. Why did we have to meet when we were both set on such different paths? My heart is in agony. The romantic in me is broken, drowning in a sea of sorrow. Love shouldn’t be this painful. And yes, it is love. I know with complete certainty that I’m head over heels in love with Adam Cohen. And it’s over before it ever really had a chance to shine.

  “Shit, Mills, I hate seeing you like this,” Kate says, curling her feet underneath her and looking at me with a look of pity which I hate.

  Wiping my eyes frantically, I continue packing, slipping the filthy reindeer decoration into my case.

  “I’m fine.” I smile through the lie and continue folding my clothes ready for my flight to LA. It’s funny how a couple of weeks ago, flying to LA was all I could think about, and now, I’m wishing I was back in the Christmas cottage, wrapped up in Adam. Wishing things were different and we weren’t in different places in our lives. Wishing my heart wasn’t in pieces.

  “Come on, you can’t lie to me.” When I don’t say anything, she asks, “Do you hate me?”

  What on earth? I look over at her in confusion.

  “Hate you? What? Why would I hate you?”

  “Because I told you to go for it. Said it would be good for you.” She grimaces, and I shake my head with a sad smile. Typical Kate, taking responsibility for everything.

  “No, don’t be silly. I don’t hate you. You were right. I did need to let my hair down and have some fun. And I did. It was incredible, Kate. I had the time of my life. I just hate that it had to end,” I admit, throwing the dress I was folding into my suitcase and sitting on the bed next to her.

  My whole body aches, sleep having eluded me the night before. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw his face. I saw what could have been. It’s killing me knowing he’ll move on. That our time together will become a distant memory.

  “Why did it? Why didn’t you invite him home with you?” she asks, knowing nothing would have kept me from spending Christmas with Seb. It’s our tradition. And that means everything to me.

  “Because we want different things. He wants to take over his family’s firm and be this career-driven success. I want to settle down and have a family, build a future with someone who wants to put me first,” I sigh, throwing myself back onto my bed and closing my eyes in anguish. It’s not fair.

  “Millions of people have successful businesses and happy family lives, Mills. Why do you have to choose between the two?”

  “Because I want to be selfish for once. I want stable and predictable, and a husband with a nine-to-five job who’ll be home to read bedtime stories to our kids. I want someone to put me first. To make me feel like I’m the most important thing in the world to them. And I know that’s self-centered and greedy, but other than Seb, I’ve never really had that. And I deserve to be someone’s everything, Kate. You know?”

  Feeling her hand slip into mine as she lies down next to me, the tears start to leak out of the corners of my eyes. Her presence is a soothing balm to my wounded heart.

  “I know, Mills. You deserve everything. I wish I could give it all to you,” she whispers, pulling me in for a cuddle. I squeeze her tight, so grateful to have her in my life.

  “Anyway, enough about my shitshow of a life. How’re you? How’s Rich?”

  “We’re good,” she says, shrugging off my concern and hugging me tighter.

  Kate drops me off at the airport early the next morning and tries to insist on coming in with me until I have to go through security. As much as I love my best friend, I just need some space to think right now, so I politely declined and told her to get home to her fiancé.

  Once I’ve made my way through security, I find a much-needed coffee shop and grab a gingerbread latte in a to-go cup and a pastry before grabbing a seat by the entrance so I can people-watch.

  Taking a drink from my latte, I look at the Christmas tree in the center of the room. It reaches all the way up to the ceiling and is covered in countless ornaments of all different shapes and sizes. Every single one appears different; it’s unique and beautiful. With fake snow covering the branches, and gifts placed decoratively beneath it, it’s a sight to behold.

  A little girl with adorable pigtails, dressed in a red dress with white tights, rushes up to it and cranes her neck, looking up at it with awe. A small smile lifts the corners of my lips as I think about the joy Christmas brings. I may not get the present I want under my tree this year, but I have a lot to be thankful for.

  “Excuse me, is this seat taken?” A thick Scottish voice pulls me out of my thoughts.

  Looking up I see a short, blonde-haired woman wearing purple-rimmed glasses and offering me a kind smile. She motions to the empty seat at my table and patiently awaits my answer.

  “No, please, go ahead,” I say, motioning for her to sit down opposite me. Placing her tray on the table, she sinks into the seat with a relieved sigh.

  “Thank you.” She smiles across the table at me, and I return it with one of my own. In a gray pantsuit and white blouse, I assume she’s come straight from work. After a moment of silence and the hint of awkwardness that comes with sharing a table with a stranger, she tells me, “I’m Jane.”

  “Amelia,” I offer in response, smiling at her amazing accent.

  “It’s manic here today. So many people traveling for the holidays, I expect.”

  Nodding in agreement, I take another sip of my drink and go back to people-watching. Airports are fascinating places.

  “Are you flying anywhere special?” she asks, pouring herself a cup of tea from the teapot on the tray, then adding a dash of milk and taking a long sip.

  “Yes, I’m flying home, to LA,” I admit. “I’m spending the holidays with my brother. What about you?”

  “I’m flying to Edinburgh, back home to my husband,” she tells me excitedly, her whole face lighting up at the thought. It’s cute and I envy her.

  “Were you here on business?”

  “Yes. I’m here a lot. We have an office based in London, so I divide my time between the two locations,” she admits, adding some more milk to her tea and stirring.

  “That must be tough. Spending so much time away from someone you love,” I say, in sympathy.

  “It can be. But it’s worth it. I would rather only have countless long weekends together than a lifetime without him.” The sincerity in her words hits me square in the chest. “After all, love’s never easy, but it’s always worth it.”

  It takes a moment for her words to sink in, but when they do, they really resonate with me. She’s right. It doesn’t matter if Adam travels a lot or that we live in different continents because the short week we spent together already means everything. I’d take stolen moments like those for the rest of my life over never seeing him again.

  “Are you okay?” Jane asks, breaking me out of the haze.

  “Yeah, sorry. Lost in my own world for a minute,” I joke as my phone vibrates on the table in front of me.

  My heart speeds up when I see Adam’s name flash across the screen. Opening the message, I smile at the beautiful flowers. What a sweet gesture from the Drummonds. My smile soon turns to a frown. It’s just a picture. No message from him. Nothing pers
onal. Did Adam just send this to be polite? Is that why he didn’t add a message of his own? No asking if I got home safely, nothing. Maybe our time together really did mean more to me than it did to him.

  “I’m a good listener, if you wanted to talk about it,” Jane says, bringing me back to the present. My eyes meet hers, and the softness in them has me warming to the idea of spilling my guts to a practical stranger. Ah, to hell with it!

  “I met a guy…” Her face lights up like a kid on Christmas morning, and I chuckle.

  “Go on…” she says, moving her blonde locks out of her face and behind her ear while grabbing her cup and cradling it in front of her.

  “We really clicked. But we’re in completely different places in our lives. He lives in New York, I live here. It’s like the odds are stacked against us. We were losing the battle before it even begun.” Sighing, I take a drink of my latte and turn my gaze back to the tree. “Then to top it off, I haven’t heard from him since I left, nothing. Complete radio silence, and he just sent me a picture out of the blue of a thank-you card from a client. No message. Nothing personal. Just business.”

  “Men can be idiots,” she reasons, and I snort, “You’re telling me.”

  “Look. Distance sucks, but absence really does make the heart grow fonder. Some nights I curse my work and that I’m so far away from Isaac and the kids, but then we reunite and it feels like the first time all over again. I appreciate them so much more because I have to treasure the moments we do get together, you know?”

  “Yeah, that makes sense. How many kids do you have?” I ask, surprised at her admission. I didn’t imagine her having kids, with her being away so much for work.

  “Two. Megan is four, and Ethan is six. They’re a handful, but we wouldn’t have them any other way.” Chuckling, she unlocks her phone and shows me a sweet snap of her kids.

  “How do they cope with you being away?” I ask.

  “They’re amazing. They know Mummy always comes home again, and we spend lots of time together when I’m back. It’s hard, but I’m working to be able to give them a better future. It’s about looking at the bigger picture.”

  That makes sense. Maybe distance isn’t the enemy I thought it was. Maybe it wasn’t distance and business that made my parents so absent, but rather it’s just the type of people they are.

  But still, I’m over here tying myself up in knots over leaving him, and he doesn’t seem to be affected at all. I gave him everything I have, and what did I get in return? A dirty tree ornament and an impersonal text from a client.

  As if sensing my internal battle, Jane says, “Look, men are strange creatures. I don’t think we’ll ever understand them and their motives, but my advice…better to take a chance on love and have it come to nothing than to watch it pass by and always wonder what if.”

  Needing to think, I put my phone away without replying. When my gaze flits to the screen outside the coffee shop, I see my gate has now been announced.

  Standing, I wish Jane a Merry Christmas and a safe trip home. Finishing the last of my latte, I throw the cup into the recycling bin, then follow the signs for my gate.

  Time to go back to reality.

  13

  Adam

  Read.

  I stare at my phone as my grandmother makes a fuss of Daphne’s newest friend. Percy the micro pig. Of course, only Nanna would think it’s the cutest thing since her two favorite—and only—grandchildren were born.

  “Is it even kosher?” I ask Mom when she nudges my arm, asking for my attention.

  “She’s not eating it, so…”

  “It’ll be the cleanest fucking pig in Manhattan.” Dad shakes his head as Nanna fingers the bow tie around Percy’s neck.

  “An actual pig in the city,” I tease Daphne when she flips me the bird. “Where did you even get the damn thing?”

  “You brushed me off for your self-pity, so I went to the shelter and there he was. It was kismet.”

  “What? He looked at you, oinked, and stole your heart?”

  Picking the pig up, she rubs her nose on his snout as she coos, “It was love at first sight, just like Adam and Amelia.” Daphne throws me a fuck-you glare.

  “Hey, Percy,” I joke, “ever heard about bacon?”

  “That’s mean,” Mom nudges me again as Dad chuckles at Daphne’s horrified expression. He’s as confused about the pig situation as I am. Even if Daphne is as nuts as our grandmother, a pet pig is a bit far-fetched even for her. It takes her obsession to a whole different level of nuts.

  I glance at my phone again when it vibrates beside my plate, but it only serves to pull the knot in my gut tighter.

  Why hasn’t she replied? I tried calling their business number, but it goes directly to a voicemail that tells me they won’t be back in the office until January. If Amelia is ignoring my texts or if she’s blocked me, I don’t know what else to do to reach out and make amends for my sheer stupidity and pigheadedness. The more I think about it, perhaps Percy isn’t the only swine in the family.

  “So, who’s Amelia?” Nanna asks, breaking the silence from across the dinner table, her glasses on the tip of her nose as she levels me with a questioning stare. “It’s a pretty name.”

  Immediately, I flash Daphne a scowl. It’s no coincidence that she said exactly the same thing when I mentioned Amelia’s name over the phone, like it’s no coincidence that Nanna is already so well acquainted with Percy that he oinks at her as though he knows she likes him.

  Pigs just aren’t that perceptive. They’re happiest in shit for a start.

  “Adam?” she presses, sitting straighter in her chair with the pig in her lap.

  “A woman,” I reply, getting up to help Mom with the table.

  “The name gives that away. It doesn’t tell us who she is…”

  When I reach to grab her plate, she clutches my wrist, “Daphne, why don’t you help your mom?”

  Shit, my escape plan is completely foiled. She’ll have me talking before I get the chance to bite my tongue; she does it to me all the time. Since I was a boy, Nanna Ruth has been able to pry all my secrets from me. As though he knows what’s about to happen, Dad decides he needs to help Mom with dessert too. It’s her usual matzo layer cake; she makes it every Friday evening for our Saturday dinner.

  “Is she ugly?” Grandma asks, patting the chair beside her. When I slip into it, she adds, “Does she have warts? Big Jewish nose?”

  “Amelia isn’t Jewish.”

  Mock horror fills her face as she gasps, “What a surprise!”

  “She doesn’t have warts of any kind or a big nose. Her nose is actually cute. Dainty…turned up a little, and I think that in the summer she’ll have freckles.” Focusing on my hands, I realize that I’m peeling the label off the dill pickles. “She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever…”

  At my pause, Nanna takes the jar from me and sets it down, clutching my hand in one of hers as she presses a kiss to it. “You always ask me how I know something’s bothering you, and the answer is pretty easy. I have no tricks, Adam. I’m not a mind reader or a witch. I love you. I loved you from the moment your mom broke down in tears because she had no idea how she would cope with one baby, let alone two.”

  “What does that have to do with anything?” I twist the ring on her finger. I’ve never seen her without it, and as a result, the band is a little worn while the diamond and rubies still hold their sparkle.

  “It’s got everything to do with…everything. If I didn’t love you, do you think that I would know all the little details that tell me you’re uncomfortable with a conversation? You know, peeling the label off the jar, trying to divert the spotlight onto Percy bacon, or running away under the guise of helping your mother?”

  “Nanna…”

  “Hush, Adam.” She pats the pig curled in her lap. “I know it’s complicated.” There she goes, taking the words out of my mouth once again. “But so is business, and you excel at it.”

  “It’s not the sa
me thing, Grandma. Amelia and I spent an incredible week together, but I think that I…I think I fucked it up. I was trying to be honest and do the right thing. Amelia wants a fairy tale that I don’t know I can give her.”

  “People rewrite them all the time. That’s the beauty of change and progression. I’m sure Cinderella could take care of herself in this day and age, but it just makes the ending sweeter because she would still want her prince even if he has an empire to run and she lives in Timbuktu.”

  “None of that makes sense,” I tease as she levels me with a glare. “What? Fairy tales are just fantasies. Stories to set ridiculous expectations for little girls. They’re unfeasible and unrealistic.”

  “What’s so ridiculous about what your girl wants?” I set my hand down on the table, and she pats it a little harder than normal. “What does she want?” When I don’t reply, she presses again, “In business lingo, what are her terms, Adam?”

  “I told you she’s not business.” I hate that she keeps trying to refer to Amelia as though she is, even if it’s just to prove a point that I already know.

  My phone vibrates, and my heart quickens when I pull it out of my pocket to check it. Before I can do so, Nanna snatches it from me, looking at the notification impassively before putting it down on the table.

  “That could be her,” I tell her a little too brusquely, and before she marks me with another of her scowls, I look down at my lap.

  “It’s not,” she snaps back. “Now answer the damn question. What does Amelia want?”

  “She wants commitment.”

  “You’re committed to our family and the firm, so why can’t you be committed to her?”

  A scoff pushes from my lips at her question. “How can I be committed to her when I spend half of my time traveling? It’s hard enough we live in completely different continents.”

  “You just said you spend most of your time traveling. Have a long layover. That’s not a reason, that’s a poor excuse, which offends me. Your mother raised you better than that, and I taught you better too, not to mention that you wouldn’t give your father a bullshit excuse like that in a million years. So go on, what else does Amelia want that apparently you can’t give her?” She sounds cross enough that the weight in my chest leadens, and no matter how hard I try to swallow down the lump in my throat, it doesn’t budge.