by Amanda Tru
“I made it for you, Hank.”
“And I had a neat thought…” He untied it from the bow and laid it on the top of the little box. “I want this heart, Ronni. You put enough of yours into making it—making all of them for everyone. Do you know how much those people loved what you did? I bet even those kids won’t spend that money.”
“And…”
“And I thought it might mean something to you if I told you how it felt like you’d given me just a tiny piece of you when you gave it.”
Her throat tightened until she couldn’t swallow. “I did.” The words came out in a hoarse gasp.
Hank drew her into his arms and squeezed her. “I can see that it looked like I was trying to get the last word there. And for something else, I might have. For a joke.”
If she were honest with herself, Ronni knew she might, too.
“But this was me putting myself out there. I guess I thought if you had this, you’d be sure to get it back to me. And I’d get to see you again.”
With eyes closed and a cleansing breath, Ronni tried to apologize. She’d overreacted—again. “Hank…”
“Are you going to open that?”
Though it was on the tip of her tongue to say she’d rather pull out the mistletoe, Ronni ripped all the packaging off in one motion. The small, white box said some part belonged in it. As she folded back the lid, a key lay nestled in tissue paper. “What’s this to?”
“Cottage twelve at Whistling Summit Lodge in South Tahoe. It’s seldom in use, so you’re pretty much free to come and stay as long as you like.”
“Fifty-four miles away?”
“Sixty. Hayley lives there with Brian—for now.” He might have kissed her if she hadn’t picked up the key and asked about it. “I can’t invite you back here, Ronni. An emergency is one thing, but it’s too close…”
All the times she wondered if Christians really lived what they claimed to when it came to relationships… Well, she had her answer now. Ronni nudged the paper. “I think you should open that.”
The nerves that had attacked him at the sight of that paper dissipated after she suggested he read it. Surely, after literally putting his heart—paper though it may be—on the line, she wouldn’t rip his beating one out. And if that isn’t the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever thought, I don’t know what is.
Without even pulling off the bow, Hank unfolded it and read.
I, Veronica Marie Carlisle, do, on this 25th day of December, confess that I was very wrong about Mr. Hank Wright. He’s exactly the sort of man that I need in my life—in any capacity. He likely will rarely get me to confess this, so as my Christmas gift to him, I’m putting it in writing.
Furthermore, while I’m in a confessional turn of mood, I confess that I want to spend more time with him and officially ask him to be my New Year’s Eve date on the Queen Mary in Long Beach.
Please say yes.
Ronni Carlisle
Hank pulled out the mistletoe, set it in the box with the key, and tilted her chin toward him. “Best gift I could have asked for. I accept.” Kissing Ronni again—probably not wise. Not kissing her again? Impossible. And somewhere between “Merry” and “Christmas,” that thought proved true.
If it could, it conspired against him. A flat tire, general insane holiday traffic, more trucks on the road than should be allowed on New Year’s Eve. Ronni had finally told him to meet her at the Queen Mary hotel registration desk. She’d be waiting. “In a blue dress with more sparkles than a Texas Miss America contestant,” she’d said.
Hank had already decided that Miss Texas should be the winner every year, and he hadn’t even seen Ronni or the dress yet.
Crowds pushed through to the boat. Some people dressed in cocktail wear, others in formal. A few people wore costumes—flapper dresses, zoot suits, and those weird Victorian things with goggles and gears. Excitement pulsated in the air—as infectious as a baby’s laughter and not half as innocent, he suspected.
As he drew closer to the ship, Hank asked people which way to the registration desk until someone knew the answer. A couple from Texas, no less, told him to follow them, and at the entrance, an employee escorted them all. As they neared, Ronni’s dress beckoned him before she even turned around. She left her hair down.
Until that moment, he hadn’t even realized he hoped. She turned at his touch. “Hank!”
Arms around him, a kiss to his cheek, a whispered, “So glad to see you…” Each one drove the nagging little worries that had grown into ravenous doubts far back again. “You look amazing!”
Guess the tux was the right move after all. Seemed overkill, especially putting it on in an In-N-Out bathroom, but… Aloud, he deflected. “You beat me to the punch. That poor dress…”
She brushed a hand across the skirt. “Did I get something on it?”
“No… I was just imagining how sad it would look without you.” He brushed a kiss across her cheek before whispering, “And I can honestly add, ‘like me.’”
Ronni took his arm and led him through corridors and across decks to the Queen’s Salon, where a jazz ensemble played. Stilt walkers roamed the room, while flappers made the Charleston—at least, Hank assumed it was—look easy. Only once she’d found them a semi-private place did Ronni turn and look at him. “Do you know what Dorothy Sayers called talk like that?”
As much as Hank ached to tease her and ask, “Like what?” he didn’t. He just shook his head.
“Piffle. She called it talking piffle, and she said Lord Peter Wimsey was rather good at it.” Ronni’s hand rested on his lapel as she leaned close. “Have you been taking lessons from him, or are you just naturally good at knowing how to make people feel like they really matter?”
Not knowing how to answer, he pulled out a sprig of mistletoe that he’d managed to find and said, “Just in case…”
Turning away, Ronni said she had something for him, too. When she turned back, she pressed the little heart into his hand. “I said I’d keep it safe. Your turn.”
It was warm. Hank’s neck heated like a stupid junior high boy when he realized why. Your girls are going to tease you like crazy when they meet her and see what a fool you are around her.
“What are you thinking, Mr. Wright?”
Proof of her qualifications as an information extractor for the CIA, Hank blurted it out. “Just realized that my girls are going to have too much fun teasing their old man about how silly he is over you.”
“Can’t wait to see that.”
He tugged at his collar. “Never expected to say it, but for the first time, I’m almost glad you live here instead of up our way.”
“Only for another thirty days.”
His heart jumped, his pulse raced, and Hank sucked in enough air to keep him oxygenated until she answered his question. “What does that mean?”
“Mr. Sasaki wants me in Tahoe as a liaison between Veritas and his company. I’ll travel back and forth a lot, but I just signed a lease this afternoon. It’s why I came straight here instead of waiting for you. Wanted to surprise you.”
“You’re moving to South Tahoe?”
She nodded.
“Before you retire?”
She nodded again and added, “And if I like my place, I might just stay. We’re putting my condo on the market.”
Though he thought, really? Hank decided it might be insulting. Instead, he asked if he could bring her dinner her first night there. “I’ll even bring a movie.”
“Only,” she agreed after the longest minute in the history of time, “if you bring that mistletoe, too.”
The closer the clock edged to midnight, the quieter Hank became. He’d tried to dance with her a few times, but slower songs were few and far between, and it was too difficult to talk through the loud, swingy numbers. After resting for forty minutes, just talking and observing, Ronni stood. “We need to get to the deck and get a good spot.”
Being the good sport he was, Hank rose and followed. Once she’d thought t
hat, Ronni smiled. No woman would feel like the man who propelled her in the direction she led him was following. Somehow, even as she chose their steps, he managed to lead them anyway. So like him.
So unlike her to enjoy it, too.
Near the railing, she pulled the cape that draped behind her up over her shoulders and moved close to him. “Chilly out here.”
The guy had his jacket off before Ronni could protest. “That thing can’t possibly be warm enough.”
“What about you?”
“Warm enough just being close. I’m fine. It’ll also wake me up a tad. Been a long day.”
“Eight and a half hours in the car. Can’t believe you didn’t fly.”
His rumbling laughter, the way his lips came close enough to Ronni’s ear that she could almost feel them—it all combined into a moment of wonder. I’ve known this guy just over a week—not quite ten days. And I’m falling for him.
“—know what happened the last time a plane took that route. Didn’t want to chance getting grounded in Mojave or something.”
A man who had been a little relentless in his pursuit a few years before saw her with Hank and came to scope them out. Inside two minutes, he had everything she didn’t want him to know. He had been one of the few people to know about her mental list. He’d failed to meet the time and priority requirements. He hadn’t taken it well.
“I see she’s decided that the perfect man doesn’t exist. Rather late, but better late than never.”
Hank stiffened and pulled Ronni just a bit closer. “You’re drunk, and you’re rude. You should leave.”
All the wrong things to say to a guy that full of himself. Ronni took over before things got worse. “Dave, the thing is, when you meet the guy who has everything you didn’t know you wanted or needed on a list, the old list becomes obsolete. Hank did that. You didn’t.” A squeak of protest interrupted her, but Ronni ignored it. “Here’s the thing. If Hank dumped me tomorrow, and he probably should, I’d keep the new list and keep waiting. I wouldn’t settle for my old one now.”
Hank had been right about one thing. Dave was drunk. He blinked at her, rolled his eyes as if he had a clue about what she’d said, and strolled off to accost someone else down the deck. What Hank would think of it—
His lips on hers told her. The murmured, “What’s the new list?” sent rumbling flutters that told her the bumblebee had returned.
You’d better be a drone. I do not want to get stung.
“Ronni?”
The description rolled off her tongue as if she’d rehearsed it. Her fingers twisted in his hair. “Tall, distinguished silver hair…” She slipped her hand in his and gazed at it. “Strong hands.”
“There’s half a dozen of him in this room.”
“Yeah…?” Ronni pretended to glance around her before raising her gaze to meet his. “Do they live in a tiny little place up north called Juniper Springs? Are they great hosts? Kind men who don’t let bossy women push them around? Generous to a fault with the ability to turn my insides to mush with a single look?”
He grinned. “I do that?”
She affected a short shrug. “Not yet… but give it time. Give it time….”
All around them, people started counting down. At five, he cupped her jaw. At three, she rose on tiptoe, at one, his arms came around her. Fireworks exploded all around them.
Some of them the other guests could see.
At some point, Hank tucked her against his heart and sighed. “A month is a long time.”
“Not as long as this week was—it can’t be.”
That low, rumbly chuckle filled her ear. “Are we as ridiculous as we sound?”
“Probably. I’ll make you a deal.”
“Yeah?”
“Meet me in Bishop next weekend, and you can give me back that heart.”
Hank didn’t move and for a minute or two, didn’t speak. When he did, he made a counteroffer. “Only if you promise to have a fight with me just before we both arrive.”
“About what?”
“I don’t care… whether the sky is blue or green!” A kiss swept away her questions.
So, we can make up. “Deal.”
An unexpected certainty came over her—one she hated to voice but couldn’t bear not to. “Hank… am I crazy?”
“No.”
She snickered. “You don’t even know—”
“You’re not crazy,” he repeated. “—to feel like this really is a thing. Or, if you are, I am, too. I told you I thought I’d fall for you. I’m on the edge of that precipice now.”
“Need a shove?”
Hank took her hand and led her toward the stairs. “Coming with me?”
Ronni nodded. “Maybe anywhere.”
“First stop, South Tahoe… next…” He pulled her out of the throng and searched her face for something. “Juniper Springs?”
“Maaay-bee…” Her throat caught, and the next words echoed only in her mind. I hope.
THE END
1. Ronni blew up when her plans went awry, and she behaved badly. It’s easy to show grace to a new Christian, but how often do more mature (or at least older) Christians behave in similar ways when things go wrong? What does Scripture say about how we respond to irritations? (James 1: 2-4)
2. When Hank overheard Ronni’s phone conversation, he rebuked her. That’s a difficult thing to do in our “don’t judge me” world, but we’re commanded to do it (II Timothy 4:2). Why do you think Ronni eventually responded favorably?
3. Ronni’s “list” had controlled her decisions for a long time, but when Hank reads and ponders it, he challenges her to look at it in light of what the Bible says. Why was that so important, and do you think it affected her later decisions? (James 1:5 & Proverbs 3: 5-6)
4. One thing Ronni considers is that as a middle-aged woman, she doesn’t have the luxury of time to draw out a long courtship if she wants to spend her life with someone. However, none of us are promised tomorrow. Where is the balance between being prudent and allowing fears to control your decisions? (Balancing Proverbs 3:5-6 and Proverbs 21:5)
5. Hank is rather stubborn and hardheaded about things, despite his otherwise servant spirit. It worked in this initial getting-to-know-you period, but do you think it would cause problems later on? What would you advise Ronni to do if it came up, and what Scriptures would you use in your counsel? (No, really. What? I want to know, too. Email me with your suggestions!)
6. Ronni made an internal observation that Christians didn’t always act as if they took the Bible’s requirements on sexual purity seriously. What does Scripture say we should do when people are sexually immoral? (I Corinthians 6:18, Ephesians 5:3, 1 Thessalonians 4:3-5)
7. Did you notice that Hank actually stole in this book? Did it bother you? Does knowing the rightful owner and anticipating her answer justify taking without permission? Was it okay for him to do it, knowing that he planned to confess and make it right, or should he have gone looking for that mistletoe elsewhere? (Exodus 20:15 vs. Matthew 5:40?)
8. In the end, Hank gives her a key to a place closeby and tells her she can’t stay in the apartment again. That brings up the point that she didn’t have to go back to the house with him after Christmas at the airport. Should she have remained with the other passengers instead of returning, or was a separate apartment on the same property sufficient for keeping their actions above board? Does I Thessalonians 5:22 apply here, and if so, does it change your answer?
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Chautona Havig lives in an oxymoron, escapes into imaginary worlds that look startlingly similar to ours, and writes the stories that emerge. An irrepressible optimist, Chautona sees everything through a kaleidoscope of It’s a Wonderful Life sprinkled with fairy tales. Find her on the web and say howdy—if you can remember how to spell her name.
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by Chautona Havig
The Rockland Chronicles
Aggie’s Inheritance Series (4 books)
Past Forward: A Serial Novel (Six Volumes)
HearthLand Series: A Serial Novel (Six Volumes)
The Vintage Wren (A serial novel beginning 2016)
The Shopkeepers of New Cheltenham
The Ghosts of New Cheltenham
Something Borrowed, Someone Blue
The Rockland Chronicles
Argosy Junction
Discovering Hope
Not a Word
Speak Now
A Bird Died
Thirty Days Hath…
Confessions of a De-cluttering Junkie
Corner Booth
New Year’s Revolutions
Premeditated Serendipity
Random Acts of Shyness
Christmas Fiction
Advent
31 Kisses
Tarnished Silver
The Matchmakers of Holly Circle
Carol and the Belles