by K. S. Thomas
I have half a mind to go find Hannah and make her tell me everything, but then I remember I still haven’t told her what happened when I went to L.A. and she will absolutely insist on a trade where info is concerned, so I opt to take what Teran offered and run with it. I’ll be back before the show. There’s no way I’m missing even a second of the big reveal.
Once I’m done collecting all my tools, and my kid, we swing by Cheri’s Chocolates and More to select our holiday truffles as is tradition for show day, followed by a quick stop at Rescue Rover to deliver a batch of holiday dog treats Mona made, before we head home to get ready.
Mona is practically sparkling as much as her bedazzled red dress is when she comes walking down the stairs. “Will you do the braid, please?” she asks, gesturing a crown on her head and I know exactly what she’s asking.
“Of course.” I even find a few tiny ornaments we usually add to our wreaths to add some decorative touches. When I’m done, she truly looks like a Christmas elf ready for holiday festivities.
I’m less excited about my own ensemble, but I know it matters to Mona that I play along in dressing up, so I do my best to embellish the black and gold sweater dress I’m wearing with the appropriate yuletide flair.
Even Mama does her part and shows up to meet us at the door wearing an elegant emerald blouse with her black dress pants.
“Don’t we all look fancy,” she muses, reaching for her coat as she prepares to bundle up.
“Did you remember to bring the secret ingredient?” Mona asks.
“Sure did.”
I’m confused. “What secret ingredient? And for what?”
Mona shrugs. “If you don’t know, you’re not supposed to.”
“Are you serious? Is this about Kaleaha and Reese? You two know about the surprise?”
Mama just takes Mona’s scarf from the hook and loops it around her neck in a whimsical fashion, as if I’m barely even there. “You heard her. If you don’t know, you don’t know.”
Both of them lead the way out the door, leaving me to grab the keys and lock up behind them. “Unbelievable.”
The drive is more of the same, both of them giggling and whispering and making fun of me for not knowing what they obviously know. I turn up the radio and sing Christmas carols at the top of my lungs in response.
The downside is, I’m hoarse by the time we arrive for the show, but on the upside, I definitely got my point across and the giggling and whispering and overall smugness has stopped.
“Lilan!” Hannah shows up out of nowhere the second we walk into the theater and yanks me along as she makes a mad dash backstage.
“What are we doing?” I ask, slightly winded from the unexpected jog.
“Set malfunction,” she huffs. “You have to fix it. Now!”
“What?” We slow down a bit, but only because it’s a smaller space, with more people and no lighting. “How is that possible? I checked everything before I left and there weren’t any problems.”
We maneuver our way around Jamie, the hair and makeup guru every performer here depends upon, and I notice with a fair amount of envy, they’ve got a mug to their lips. Tea would be lovely right now. Then, I catch the writing on their cup, Maybe this isn’t the end. Maybe it’s just the bit where you’re locked in a tower thinking it’s the end.
I want to do a doubletake, just to be sure, but Hannah’s back to dragging me onward.
“Did you read Jamie’s mug?” I hiss. “Is that where you got that the tower isn’t the end bit?” It would be so like her. I think all the years of working with scripts have led to confusion where memorizing things and making genuine conversation is concerned.
Hannah doesn’t answer, but she does slow down to whisper something to a few of her students, all huddled together over a script, running their lines under their breath and waiting for things to starts.
It takes me a second to register what I’m seeing, but Taylor, Emily and Grace are also cradling cups of a steamy hot beverage in their hand. I notice their mugs also all have writing on them.
I have to squint to make out the words.
“You kissed me.” “You kissed me back.”
I’m not into pretty. Pretty’s not my thing.
And, God damn it, you’re really making it hard not to fall for you.
I’m all but stumbling over my own two feet when Hannah starts moving us along again, my eyes locked on the cups and those words. Frankly, I think it’s possible I might be losing my mind.
“Hannah,” I whisper. “Has falling for Teran made you a little loopy?” Because what other explanation is there? Clearly, I’m not recovering from my slip into love as well I’d hoped if I’m starting to see things. And, I must be seeing things.
“Shh.” That’s the extent of her response. Until we run into Kaleaha, at stage left, headphones on, and looking all kinds of official. “Did you get it to work?” Hannah asks her.
Kaleaha shakes her head. “Nope, waiting for the professional.” She nods at me, then reaches for a cup sitting in wait for her on a little shelf beside her podium all set up to oversee tonight’s production. She practically waves the cup in my face as she goes on, “I hope you brought your magic, because we may need it. Show starts in less than three minutes.” I’m not sure if she’s taunting me with tea or using it at as a motivational tool. Until I see what’s written on it.
It’s time to start believing again. Signs. Love. Fairy tales. The whole damn magic of it all.
I’m still gaping at her cup when Hannah drags me off again.
Finally, we come to a stop, a real stop, at the center of the stage. It’s pitch-black, and I can’t see a thing outside of the markers glowing on the floor and the giant Christmas tree of our fake Rockefeller center right in front of me.
“The lights,” Hannah whispers in a strained panic. “They won’t come on.”
“What are you talking about?” I squat down, trying to get a better look at the problem. I’m guessing it’s as simple as someone tripping over the cord and accidentally unplugging it. Or, maybe I’m just hoping that’s all it is. When the cord is still snugly in place, even I start to panic a little. “Was anyone messing with the lights?” I start checking the bulbs. “Is anything else not getting power that should?” Maybe a breaker blew out or something.
I’m probably twenty bulbs in, when I notice Hannah hasn’t answered any of my questions.
“Hannah?” I stop what I’m doing and get my head out of the tree to look for her.
She’s gone.
Then, out of nowhere, the tree lights up. Like magic.
“What the...?”
Careful not to trip on anything in the dark, I scoot back from the tree and get back to my feet, eyes locked on the Christmas lights twinkling before me.
Suddenly, I can hear singing. Music begins to play, and a single spotlight starts at the corner of the stage as if waiting for someone to step out and take it.
Horrified, I realize the show is starting and I’m still smack in the center of the stage. Frozen in place, I contemplate the best way to exit without drawing too much attention to myself, when I see it. See him. Stepping out into the spotlight.
“Have you ever been to New York City at Christmas?”
Speechless, I watch him walk toward me, two cups in his hands, as if we’re standing in my kitchen and it’s teatime, like any other day.
“It’s magical,” he goes on. “The lights. The people. The ice skating. The tree.” He stops, to acknowledge the ten-foot pine before us. “The romance.”
“New York City at Christmas is known for its romance?” I ask, finally finding my words again.
“It is in the movies,” he says, winking. There’s a distinct chuckle from the audience, and I remember we’re not alone here.
“Too bad we don’t live in the movies,” I say, biting my lip to keep it from quivering.
“It’s true. We don’t.” He smiles, taking another step toward me until he’s so close I can feel him
without even touching. “Tea?” He offers me one of his mugs.
“Now?” I can’t decide if tea makes this whole thing more surreal or more normal.
“Sure.”
I take the cup and I recognize it instantly. “Sometimes happy ever after starts with an unlikely once upon a time,” I read the saying out loud.
He turns around his own cup and I see the words even as he says them, “And... sometimes it happens here.”
Bodhi
“LILAN,” I START BEFORE I completely lose my nerve. “Maybe we don’t live in the movies. And maybe life doesn’t always feel like a fairy tale...but what if we made it one anyway? What if we slayed the dragons and outwitted the villains and made every day moving forward our happy ever after?” I move in closer and gently stroke her cheek with my thumb, wiping the rogue tear I know she must be furious with. “Because I’m so completely and irreversibly in love with you, I really don’t see any other way to move forward.” I lean in and tip my forehead to hers. “I get that this is probably a huge inconvenience for you, but you’re just going to have to suck it up and deal with it.”
“Okay,” she whispers and it’s all the ‘yes’ I need to press my lips to hers and kiss her like I’ve wanted to kiss her every moment of every day that we’ve been apart.
Cheers erupt somewhere in the distance, and I remember we were the unofficial opening act of the Christmas show, which now officially begins as the students walk onto stage in their first musical number to start the show.
Lilan and I are tucked neatly out of the way, standing here at the tree, and we don’t move or stop kissing until the number ends and blackout follows, and Hannah comes to drag us off stage.
Mona and her grandmother are waiting for us in the dressing room, both of them ready to cheers us with more hot tea and their special Christmas cookies. They’re a little nuts, the Rossi women, at least where their tea consumption is concerned, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.
“You guys knew!” Lilan squeals at the sight of them. “Wait! What about Kaleaha? Does this mean Reese isn’t coming home for the holidays to surprise her?”
As if on cue, Reese pulls back a curtain used to separate the room for changing. She’s sitting on a bench, busy sewing on a patch of lace that came off a costume. “Oh, no. I’m here. Flew in this morning.”
Lilan looks like she might burst. “Thank goodness! I would have been devastated if I had gotten a happy ending without her.”
Reese grins, pointing her needle at me. “You can thank Hollywood. He set it all up. Paid for everything.”
Lilan turns back toward me. “How?”
I shrug. There’s a reason I try to go through life much like Santa Claus, leaving gifts in my wake but never getting caught in the act. “I try to get out and visit with our deployed troops at least once a year. Bring them some of the comforts of home they don’t have access to while they’re gone. Just visit. Mess around, talk to people. Anyway, I’ve made some connections that way. And, turns out, I had one I could call on for Christmas this year.”
“You really are incredible,” she says, snuggling into my chest against my heart. Then she sticks her finger out at Mona. “I can’t believe you were in on this whole thing!”
Mona grins. “And we kept it a secret for almost three weeks!”
“What?” Lilan turns toward me. “You’ve been planning to come back all this time?”
“Lilan, I never wanted to leave,” I remind her. “But with everything that happened, I owed it to you to find the source of that story. And I did. And I made damn sure he never interferes with our lives again. I promise.”
She squeezes my hand, the one she’s been holding ever since we ran off stage. “You didn’t have to do that. I mean, I appreciate it. So much. But I had time to clear my head after everything, see the big picture.” Her eyes wander for a moment before they come back to me. “I had a lot of wonderful people talking sense to me.”
I smile, and I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to stop. “Is that why you came to L.A.? Because you wanted me back in that big picture?”
Her eyes widen. “You knew I came?”
I nod. “Hannah.”
“Of course.”
“Why didn’t you see it through? What happened?” It’s the one question I haven’t been able to answer for myself in all of this.
“I did.” I can feel her grip on my hand loosen. “I came to your house.” Her face turns serious, and her voice drops to keep Mona from hearing. “You weren’t alone. It was early and you were walking a woman out to her car.”
I frown. “Are you sure you were at the right house?”
“Yes!” She looks appalled, as if she thinks I might be lying. “It was the first Sunday after you left, and I saw you. With my own eyes. It was definitely your house.”
“Sunday.” The days after I left here all melted together for me. Between the mess with Mel and then the unexpected visit from Mac. “Mac! You saw me with Mac Turner.”
“If you’re about to tell me that the person I saw was a very feminine man, I’m walking out of here.”
I can’t help but laugh. Not just because this is one of the more ridiculous misunderstandings I’ve been a part of, but also because she’s trying so damn hard to be so feisty and mad and even as she’s threatening to walk out, I know she knows I wasn’t really with another woman. Because she knows me. Because she sees me. Like she’s seeing me right now.
“Mackenzie Turner,” I explain calmly. “She’s a director. A pretty famous one. And, she’s the reason my agent leaked my location to the media in hopes of making me come home to take the part Mac was offering me in her new movie. When she found out what Mel did, she came over to personally apologize. That’s what you saw.”
“Oh.” Her face melts into a sheepish grin. “Thank God!”
“Now then, can we get back to happy ever after?”
She rolls her eyes. “Oh, alright. But only because you’re so goddamn pretty.”
“I thought you weren’t into that.”
“I’ve decided to make an exception.”
“It’s a Christmas miracle,” I mumble, lips moving closer to hers.
“Lot of those going around, I hear,” she whispers back just before our lips meet for good.
THE END.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
TRUTH BE TOLD, I’VE been writing this one off and on for so long, I don’t really recall how many people played a role in bringing it to life. So, I’m throwing a blanket THANK YOU out there, and hoping it covers everyone in a warm and snuggly fashion.
I should also mention my appreciation for all the lovely named dancers at my daughter’s dance studio who continue to supply me with a wonderful selection of character names – my lazy side thanks you. May you someday be old enough to read my books and see that you’ve been immortalized.
Debi – thank you! You know what you did.
Mom – thanks for feeding me tonight so I could finish up my final read through.
E – thanks for taking your facetime call with Rat to another room so I can focus on the words inside my head instead of those coming out of your mouths.
Alright.
I think that’s all I’ve got tonight.
Catch you all next time ~
K.
Did you love Sometimes It Happens Here? Then you should read One More Chapter by K.S. Thomas!
Having overdosed on the cold, unyielding aspects of reality at an early age, books became a welcome escape I was happy to dedicate my life to. Editing romance novels seemed like the perfect career choice for the girl who craved fantasy and a world she could exercise a little control over. Bottom line, I like having a happy ending I can count on.
Until...Jensen.
Where I prefer to have my head in the clouds, unattached to the tumultuous roller-coaster of real life, his feet are so firmly planted on the ground, they're sinking in and getting buried there.
Jensen seems an unlikely hero for any story, l
et alone mine. He's moody. And confused. And pretty damn sure there's no such thing as happy ever after.
But then that's the thing about all the best happy endings. They show up when you least expect them to.
Read more at K.S. Thomas’s site.
Also by K.S. Thomas
A Finding Nolan Novel
Lost Avalon
Secret Hudson
Fallen Angel
Forever Francis
#MeetCute Books
EverAfter
PINK
Nine (A Pink Novel, #1)
Eight (A pINK Novel, #2)
Standalone
Save The Date
Unhurt
I Call Him Brady
It's Kinda My Thing
I Think about You
Bittersweet
Tin
With Whom We Spend Our Lives
Last Girl
One More Chapter
Ten (A pINK Novelette)
Eleven (A pINK novelette)
Forget Me Not
Don't Fall
The Finding Nolan Series
The Men Write in the Sugar
Love At First Sight
Fruit Punch Kisses
Sometimes It Happens Here
Watch for more at K.S. Thomas’s site.
About the Author
Book lover and coffee sipper extraordinaire, K.S. Thomas spends many a night reading or writing while enjoying the magical brew (also known as writer’s potion). By day, she can be found shuttling her offspring from point A to point B, tending to a menagerie of eleven (most of which are goats) or dancing wildly in the kitchen while cooking and baking yummy things to feed the multi-legged herd. Sometimes, she sleeps.
Read more at K.S. Thomas’s site.