Peppermint Kiss

by Marian Snowe

  Moments after they knocked, a short woman with feathery white hair came to the door and opened it up. “Tia, dear!” she exclaimed. “I didn’t expect you to be so fast!”

  “Neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night,” Tia quoted. “We’re not quite the post office, Miss Grace, but I wanted to make sure you have enough time to enjoy your tree before Christmas.”

  “Well, come in, come in,” Grace said, gesturing for them both to go through the door and stepping back so they could fit the tree in. “Millie!” she called into the other room. “The tree’s here!”

  Another elderly woman, this one with curly gray hair, came out into the living room with an oven mitt on one hand. “Thank you for thinking of us, Tia! Oh! And Meggie Bartlett? Is that you?”

  Meg smiled and helped Tia guide the tree to where they could momentarily lean it against the wall. “It’s me, Miss Millie. Merry Christmas!”

  “Merry Christmas to you too, dear. What are you doing here with your parents off away to Florida?”

  “Good question,” Meg chuckled. “I guess I’m delivering Christmas trees!” She glanced over at Tia, who met her eyes with a tentative smile. A warm rush of gratitude filled her, both for Tia bringing her along and for the way Tia was treating her. Tia didn’t expect immediate forgiveness. She accepted that she had to work for it.

  That was something Meg hadn’t known in anyone else, not her parents or any past girlfriends.

  Grace brought out a tree stand and Tia and Meg got the tree’s trunk secured in it. It looked beautiful against the golden wooden walls of the house. The ladies’ living room was as quaint as they come: quilted pillows lined a plush sofa and a Dresden Plate quilt was folded over the back. In the picture window looking out over the snow-covered lawn, there was a stained glass portrait of a chickadee.

  “Won’t you both stay a minute and have some hot cocoa?” Grace asked. “You came all this way and it’s so cold outside today!”

  “There’s a batch of cookies about to come out of the oven!” Millie called from the kitchen.

  Tia started to lift her hand to make a polite apology, but Meg jumped in.

  “You know what, that sounds lovely. We have a few minutes and my parents have always said Miss Grace’s hot chocolate is the envy of everyone at the community center.”

  Grace smiled proudly. “Mrs. Figgins has been trying to get me to give up that recipe for forty years.”

  Millie chuckled and left the kitchen to get Tia and Meg settled on their comfy sofa. “And you’re never going to give that uptight busybody the satisfaction, are you?”

  Grace batted her eyelashes at Millie and smiled sweetly. “Oh, I don’t know what you mean, dear. I just keep forgetting to bring the recipe card. Silly me and my ‘senior moments.’ Forget my own head next, I expect.”

  Meg snorted. “Miss Grace, you’ve never forgotten a thing in your life. You still remind my mother about the time she spit soda all over the minister at church, and how Grammy was mortified.”

  Millie went back to the kitchen and brought out a plate of warm cookies and set them on the coffee table. “And how is your mother, Tia? She must be so proud of you, taking on all this family business.”

  Tia’s posture relaxed, and Meg hid a pleased smile. Tia might act like she didn’t need anyone but she appreciated it when her hard work was acknowledged. “She’s doing well,” Tia replied. “Hosting a big holiday to-do for the company. She and Dad are in their element in the city. I’m kind of glad to, you know, not be there right now.”

  Her eyes slid over to Meg and a little smile played on her lips, one that Meg recognized well. That was the secret smile they used to share when they knew exactly what the other was thinking. It was a jolt to see that look, to feel that connection, but the shock wasn’t a bad one.

  It was like pieces falling into place.

  Grace set a tray of mugs down on the table and passed one to Meg and then to Tia. “That sounds like your mother. I always did like a little hometown celebration myself too. A little more intimate and personal.”

  Meg smiled in agreement and took a sip of her hot chocolate. It was creamy and tasted of rich cinnamon with a hint of almonds. It really was the best she’d ever had, although she did think with amusement about the peace offering Tia had given her yesterday.

  That one had been pretty good too.

  Meg gazed down into the swirls of light and dark brown liquid in her mug. Should she be pushing Tia away? Keeping her distance? Tia broke her heart, and a few days of Tia going out of her way to be nice didn’t absolve her of that.

  But still, every time she looked at Tia now, it felt like every cell in her body was an iron shaving and Tia was the magnet.

  “Speaking of hometown celebrations...” Millie said, getting Meg’s attention. The old woman got a mischievous sparkle in her eye. “You’re coming to the holiday party at the community center, aren’t you? Tomorrow night?”

  “Oh!” Meg said, sitting up straighter. Tia looked sideways at her and shifted nervously in her seat. The expression on her face clearly said “What are you about to get us into?” Meg just smiled widely in response. “Well, I didn’t even remember that party! We’d love to come. Tia and I don’t have any plans. Do you need any help setting up?” There wasn’t much more Christmassy than a party at a small-town community center.

  “Well, aren’t the two of you just the sweetest things? We would love some extra help. Getting those folding tables pulled out and set up just plays havoc with my sciatica.” Grace reached forward and squeezed Meg’s hand. “It would be lovely to have more of our young people in attendance. Thank you, dear hearts.”

  Meg noticed with pleasure that Tia smiled warmly when Grace said that. She wasn’t grudgingly agreeing to anything this time; she seemed legitimately glad to be part of it.

  On the ride back from Grace and Millie’s house (with a tin of cookies secured inside Meg’s coat), Meg leaned against Tia’s back and imagined what it would be like if Faith never made up that lie at all. She could almost feel it in the warmth of Tia’s back and the movement of her stomach as she breathed, Meg’s arms tight around her. The sensation filled her even over the jostling vibration of the snowmobile.

  Could they ever move forward from this? Or was Meg just deluding herself, the way that, for years, she imagined Tia showing up at her window with a grand apology?

  Maybe. Or maybe she should just trust the magic of the holidays, take the leap, and let this go wherever it went on its own.

  Chapter Nine

  Tia

  If someone had told Tia a few days ago that she’d be baking cookies for the Elliot Creek community center Christmas party, she would’ve laughed and then kicked them off her property. But somehow, right now, it didn’t seem like such a ludicrous idea.

  That’s just how it was with Meg, and that’s the way it was every moment they were together in college. Meg had this uncanny way of convincing Tia that she wanted to do things she’d never consider doing otherwise. And, somehow, Tia always did end up wanting to. She used to say Meg was a sorceress who cast spells over her.

  Well, right now, Tia was enchanted as hell.

  It was getting late into the afternoon and Meg had run home a little while ago to bring Spruce over, because, as she assured Tia, “He needs our company!” Now Meg sat on the floor in front of the half-decorated Christmas tree and held a scrap of brown paper that Spruce was attacking like an adorable, furry, vicious little hurricane.

  Tia pulled the last batch of chocolate chip walnut cookies out of the oven and set them on top to cool while she finished stirring the brownie batter. It had peanut butter chips and was Great-Aunt Sarah’s recipe.

  “Those smell incredible!” Meg moaned from the other room, and Tia felt a flicker of heat in her stomach. Every single time Meg said something, a memory hit Tia. They were normally mundane things like the way Meg used to laugh when Tia died for the eighteenth time playing Legend of Zelda, but this was a lot more significant.<
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  Tia remembered, starkly, the way Meg would moan when they were making love. She saw Meg’s hands balled in the sheets, her spine curving, the sweat on her skin. Meg made the most beautiful, erotic sounds when they were together.

  Tia swallowed, trying to calm her thudding heart. No matter how much better things got between them, she couldn’t imagine that was likely to ever happen again.

  “We need to save some of them for the party,” Tia said when Meg tiptoed into the kitchen and tried to steal one. Tia waved her mixing spoon in warning but Meg just snorted.

  “You’re threatening me with brownie batter. That’s a terrible tactic.”

  Before she could think better of it, Tia scooped a little blob of batter on her fingertip and wiped it on Meg’s cheek. Meg screeched but it immediately dissolved into laughter.

  “Okay, okay, I’m retreating!” Meg snatched a cookie before she went, though, and then she pulled her phone out of her pocket and tapped on the screen. Moments later, cheerful Christmas music started on the phone’s speakers.

  “Oh, for God’s sake, no,” Tia complained on reflex.

  Meg gave her a challenging look. “You hate Christmas music too?”

  “Well, I...” Tia shrugged and watched Meg’s face. She’d probably be really disappointed if Tia refused to let her play it. If Meg brought out the sad puppy face again, who knew what Tia would agree to...or what she’d ask Meg to let her do. “I mean, I guess it’s not so bad. Go ahead.”

  “Right answer,” Meg said smugly. “Now the minute you get those brownies in the oven, you’re coming over here to help finish decorating the tree.”

  “Ha, you got it, General,” Tia responded.

  Meg blinked at her and shook her head a little in surprise. “General” was another thing from the old days. Meg was always the leader, the one with the grand ideas, and Tia jokingly called her that when Meg would give her detailed instructions for some scheme she was planning.

  Tia cleared her throat. “Sorry.”

  But Meg just shrugged and threw her a crooked smile. “No, it’s been ages since anyone recognized my superiority,” she replied. “You may continue, Lieutenant.”

  There was a rustling and clatter behind Meg and she turned back to see that Spruce had climbed into the ornament box and knocked it over. A frosted glass ball rolled out and he followed right after, batting it here and there. Spruce was still so little that he wasn’t totally steady on his feet as he bumbled after the ball

  Tia suppressed an uncharacteristic squeal. “He is so cute it should be illegal.”

  “Have you had any pets since college?” Meg asked. She picked up the glass ball and hung it on the tree, then dangled a ribbon to distract Spruce.

  Tia shook her head. “Nope.” At that Meg swung her head around and gaped at her.

  “Are you serious? None? But pets are the best! I had a cat when I had a regular job while I was saving up for acting, but after he went to kitty heaven I ended up not being able to adopt again because of my crazy filming schedule. So I’m sure as hell going to keep this little guy.” Meg ran her fingers gently over Spruce’s head and he stopped playing to roll over and paw at her fingers. She tickled his round little tummy.

  Keeping him... Tia chewed on her lip and picked an ornament off the coffee table. It was the kitten that looked like Spruce.

  Meg would surely go back to wherever she lived after Christmas, maybe even before her parents got back from their cruise. Right? Tia itched to know, but she didn’t want to ask. Once this was over and Meg was satisfied that Tia helped rescue her holiday, she’d probably be off like a rocket ship’s escape pod.

  Why would she want to stay with Tia, anyway?

  Tia couldn’t believe she was even thinking about this. It was just that with every minute they spent together, Tia missed her more and more. She missed the time they’d lost. That her stupid bullheadedness had lost them.

  “Hey,” Meg said, and Tia realized Meg had been trying to get her attention for a couple of seconds now.

  “Huh?”

  Meg rolled her eyes fondly and smiled. “Neither of us are tall enough to get this star on the top of the tree. Give me a boost?” She held up the silver filigree tree star that they’d bought.

  Tia opened her mouth and then closed it again. What exactly was Meg asking her to do? But Meg didn’t explain further; she just looked at Tia expectantly.

  “Okay,” Tia said, her voice a little shaky. Meg turned around and reached as high as she could toward the top of the tree. Tia could think of no other way that Meg might mean, so she bent down...

  And she wrapped her arms around Meg’s hips and lifted her off her feet.

  Meg let Tia take her weight and steadied herself with one hand on the mantle. It took less than ten seconds to get the star secured on the top of the tree, but it was a long ten seconds for Tia. Meg’s butt was just as soft and shapely as Tia remembered it, and with her cheek pressed against Meg’s back, her peppermint scent was stronger than ever. Holding Meg like this was the definition of having an “armful” of a beautiful woman.

  Shivers cascaded over Tia’s skin. It was like Meg fit against her perfectly, in a way nobody else ever had. Meg was warm and solid and although Tia had never been a hugger, all she wanted to do right now was hug Meg.

  Okay, that wasn’t all she wanted to do.

  Then Meg broke through that wave of desire. “Got it!” she said, and Tia lowered her back down.

  Before Tia could take her hands entirely away, Meg turned around. She was so close that their breasts almost brushed, and Tia couldn’t help looking down at the pretty white sweater Meg was wearing. It was knitted with red geometric colorwork patterns across the chest, and memories of what Meg looked like beneath flashed through Tia’s mind.

  She squeezed her eyes shut and gulped. Stop, stop, stop, she berated herself. But when she opened her eyes again, Meg was looking up into her face with an expression that was partly concerned and partly wanting. Her eyes were large but her lids had started to lower and she tilted her chin up the same way she always used to when she was asking for a kiss.

  Tia’s heart began to hammer. That couldn’t be what was happening. She wanted more than anything to sweep Meg into her arms and kiss her harder than she ever did when they were together. She wanted to touch every part of Meg’s body and learn it all over again.

  But she couldn’t. She had to keep the ball in Meg’s court. That was the only fair thing.

  So Tia dropped her eyes and bit her lip, and she stepped to the side to examine an ornament on the tree. When she thought it was safe, she looked up at the star.

  “Looks great,” she said with a weak smile, and Meg pressed her lips together in a semblance of a smile too. But as Meg turned back to crouch down and play with Spruce again, her eyebrows pinched together and Tia’s stomach flipped over.

  She looked angry. Or hurt.

  Tia mentally slapped herself on the forehead. I can’t win. No, scratch that—I don’t even know what game we’re playing.

  Chapter Ten

  Meg

  “Sure thing, Mrs. Hannaford. Those brownies aren’t going to eat themselves!” Meg served another of their brownies to an elderly woman wearing a silk scarf around her neck. The scarf had a red and green wreath pattern all over it.

  “I’d eat one of these for every year of my life if you had ‘em,” Mrs. Hannaford said, licking her lips.

  “And how many is that, thirty?” Meg grinned and Mrs. Hannaford rolled her eyes affectionately.

  “You little charmer, don’t try to butter me up. You’re probably just in cahoots with Millie Fowler to get my butternut squash spaghetti sauce recipe.”

  “I would never!” Meg pressed her hand to her chest with mock offense.

  “Everybody, it’s time for the door prizes!” a voice called over the cheerful sound of people chatting in the community center. Meg sat down again, placing the now-empty tin of brownies on the long folding table in front of her. Tia was
beside her, deep in conversation with a gentleman who had what he thought was the best business advice in the world about how to run a tree farm.

  Meg nudged Tia with her elbow and gestured to the front of the hall, which also got the man to pause in his lecture. Tia shot her a thankful look and snatched a cookie off the platter before she ended up not getting one at all.

  “We have all sorts of lovely prizes tonight,” Grace announced. She had on a Santa hat and was holding a stocking full of slips of paper that had the names of all the partygoers. “A big thank you to our donors for providing the gifts. First, we have a pair of passes to the Lind Park ice-skating rink, which includes a hot drink of your choice.”

  She held the stocking out to Millie, who dug down deep in it with her eyes closed for maximum fairness. She pulled out a scrap of paper and read the name.

  “Tia Collins!” The old woman scanned the room for Tia and beamed when she laid eyes on her.

  Tia’s mouth fell open. She glanced over at Meg, who gave her a surprised smile. Meg couldn’t decide whether Tia looked pleased or uncomfortable. She imagined that Tia probably hated the idea of ice skating, since it was the kind of romantic wintery activity you’d hear about in a Christmas carol. But maybe she was selling Tia short. She’d really come around lately about the whole subject of Christmas, after all.

  But would the tickets go to waste? Or was it too much to hope that Tia might actually be enjoying this type of thing now?

  Asking Tia for a boost up the Christmas tree had been a mistake. Meg did it on instinct, in a moment of purely wishing their relationship could magically be the way it might be if they’d never broken up. But Tia was clearly put off by it. There was no way she’d want Meg anymore, not with things so blisteringly awkward between them.

  Amidst the sound of clapping, Tia went up and took an envelope with the tickets from Grace. She came back to the table while other prizes were handed out.

  “Congrats,” Meg said, and Tia blinked as if she was still a little bewildered by hearing her name called.