by Shyla Colt
“Yeah, I get that,” Duncan mumbles. “If you see him around here, let me know. I don’t mind setting him straight.”
“Ease up, papa bear. Rose and baby bear need you not in jail.” I pat his back.
“What’s his name?” Rose asks.
“Sam. He’s massive and scary at first glance, but super sweet.”
“Hmm.”
“It could end up being nothing, but we have a get together planned later.”
“Today?”
“Yes, at Peddler’s Village.”
Rose claps her hands. “Oh my God. You’re going on a date.”
“Not a date!” I point at her, shaking my head. “No one said the D-word.”
“What else would you call it?” Rose tilts her head.
“A social gathering for two,” I answer glumly.
“Is that what the kids are calling it these days?” Duncan asks.
“You guys are making me regret this whole relocation thing.” I poke out my bottom lip as we fall back into our usual banter.
“Hey, I think it’s great. Just be careful,” Duncan’s voice rumbles in his chest.
“Always.”
Rose slips her hand into mine. “When they say treat yourself to a Christmas present, I don’t think this is what they were referring to.” She squeezes my hand.
“Brat. We can’t all meet and marry our Prince Charming on the first go-round.”
“Pfft. Duncan was anything but my Prince Charming. Remember how he used to tug on my ponytail and chase off any boy who looked at me too long?”
“I was trying to get your attention.”
“Oh, believe me, you had it. Just not in the way you wanted.” I laugh, thinking of the way she complained about him.
“You take pleasure in my pain. Cruel woman.” Duncan placed a hand on his chest.
“Dramatic.”
“He is a ginger, so all that fiery energy has to go somewhere,” I say.
“You know our baby might have this hair.”
Rose turns to him and smiles with love shining in her eyes so bright it almost hurts to look at. “I sincerely hope so.”
I want that kind of love. I thought I had it once, only to realize in the end, it was merely a mirage.
STEPPING INTO THE HOUSE after Duncan and Rose, I begin the task of unbundling. Between the temperature and the wind, the city gets plenty cold during the wintertime. Looking cute has always fallen second to evading frostbite. Unwinding my scarf and removing my ear warming headband, I hang them on the hook with my initials. We’d all lived here once upon a time. Each paying our share toward a place that no one could take away from us.
Inhaling the familiar scent of gingerbread and cranberry, I smile at the festive display. Silver tinsel is wrapped around the curtain rods. Lights line the windows, and Christmas-themed cloth covers tables. Happy snowmen line the buffet table where we always rest our keys. Stepping through the entryway hall, I see him seated on the couch. I swallow.
He stands. Flynn. He looks the same with his coarse, black hair cropped close to his head. Large, dark brown eyes fringed with thick lashes fix on me. The silence stretches out between us—my stomach tenses. Dressed in a pair of dark denim and a black, cable knit sweater that emphasizes his thick frame, he’s effortlessly gorgeous. It should be illegal for a man to be this handsome without putting any effort in. I love his broad forehead, wide nose, and full lips. The dominant features are a representation of his African heritage. Unlike me, he knows something about his family history. I always envied him for that, just a little. His dark brown skin reminds me of milk chocolate.
“Flynn,” I whisper. A lifetime passes in the span of a heartbeat.
“Delta.” He opens his arms, and I fly into them like a bird returning home. “I missed you. Why did you stay away so long?” His honest words would once cut like a blade.
“I had to work out things in my head. It had a few glitches I’d been ignoring for far too long.”
“I understand what that’s like. You’re here to stay now?”
“Yes.” Stepping back, I squeeze his hand.
“I never meant to hurt you.” His brow furrows. “You’ve always been my best friend. I love you.”
“And I love you.” I bury my nails into the fleshy parts of my palms, mentally grounding myself. I worked a long time with the doc to say this. I won’t chicken out now. “I know you didn’t mean to hurt me. The way I felt wasn’t your fault. I wanted more than you could give. That is on me. You were well within your right to know what you wanted and didn’t. I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like that wasn’t true. We’re going to be okay. All of us.”
He studies me with that fathomless gaze that sees more than it should. Perhaps that’s part of why he dislikes making direct eye contact. “When we were younger, we promised we’d stick together.” The corners of his lips turn down into a fierce frown. “But you left.”
“Only for a little while. Even families need space and time to recharge. For me, the only way to recharge was distance.” Understanding dawns in his eyes. “But I will always come back.” The caution on his face hurts my heart. “Have I ever broken a promise?”
“No. You haven’t.” The tension leaves his body. We’re done circling each other. “Next time I do something that hurts, you have to tell me. Because we both know I’ll never know otherwise.”
“I know.” I clear my throat. “I knew it then, but in my head, admitting that would mean the end of us, and I wasn’t ready to let go.” My voice wavers.
“We may not be romantically involved, but we’ll always be family.” The words are precisely what I needed to hear. He has a funny talent for saying the right things at the right time.
“I know that, Flynn. I really do.”
“No more running.” It’s a statement, not a question or a request.
Smiling, I shake my head. It all seems so easy now. “No.”
“We made your favorites for dinner.” He grabs me and tugs me toward the kitchen.
Suddenly, things between us are settled. The familiar warmth brings back memories of safety and security. I glance over to see a teary-eyed Rose and grinning Duncan. It’s nice to be back home where I belong. If only the rest of my plans go this smoothly. I push the thought of my new job away as I focus on the spread on the counter.
“Candied yams with marshmallows!” I cry.
“Have at your overly sweet, sugar-coma-inducing creation,” Duncan says.
I grab a spoon from the drawer and dig into the still warm side dish.
“Disgusting.” Duncan wrinkles his nose.
“I don’t know, I see the appeal now,” Rose shrugs sheepishly.
Duncan’s horrified face makes me snort. “It’s okay, love. I know it’s the hormones talking.”
Flynn gives me a look that screams, Do you see what I have to put up with?
“Let’s eat, family. I have an appointment at eight tonight, and I don’t plan to be late.”
“On Christmas?” Flynn asks.
“It’s a date with destiny,” Rose giggles.
“Funny.” I speak around a mouthful.
“What is she talking about?” Flynn frowns. This isn’t awkward.
“I’m meeting with a new friend. We both had a rough Christmas Eve. This is our way of making sure today is better.”
“Makes sense. Spending Christmas Eve at an airport couldn’t have been fun.”
“Oh, I’m not so sure about that,” Rose says.
‘Shut it,’ I mouth.
“Come on, let’s make ourselves plates and enjoy Delta while we have her.” Duncan smooths things over in the way he’s perfected over the years.
SAM
I never feel like I fit into my own skin when I’m home. I take in the two-story, historic, stone mansion with seven bedrooms and five and a half baths. It’s part museum, part home. Only the best for my mother, Senator Katherine Solaris. Born into old money, she’s always kept an immaculate house. There were part
ies here in the summer and during the holidays. Soirees to schmooze and entertain, because in some instance’s politics were a big show. Mom’s done a lot of good, but she always told me to make change happen in the world, she had to play the game.
I open the first couple of buttons on my oxford as I step into the house.
“Mom?” I call out as I walk toward the living room, where I hear music playing. Perfectly posed family pictures line the wall. Keeping up appearances was a way of life. When I was younger, Mom did an excellent job of keeping me out of the public eye. Once I was older, I became fair game. She roped me in, dressing, posing, and coaching me to help her keep her political position.
“In here, honey.”
Turning, I head toward the kitchen. I fight the urge to flinch when I find Dad and his best friend, Uncle Landon, and his daughter, Kit.
“They stopped by. When we told Landon and Kit you were coming, they decided to stay to see you.” Mom lifts her arms. “Surprise.”
“That’s nice.” I force the words she expected to hear out. I feel blindsided. My muscles tense. I fight the urge to snap my fingers. I like Uncle Landon and Kit, but a warning would’ve gone a long way.
“Isn’t it?” Mom beams. “Would you like something to eat or drink?”
“Water would be great, Mom.”
She opens the fridge and hands me a plastic bottle.
“I heard you got snowed in at the airport. That had to be an unpleasant way to spend Christmas Eve,” Kit says.
“It was okay.” I shrug and twist the cap on my water bottle. After navigating through Christmas traffic, the last thing I want is to expend energy I don’t have to make small talk.
“You’re a real trooper for coming over after the airport debacle. I’m happy to be done with all the business traveling.” Landon lifts his drink in a toast.
“Oh yeah. Sam’s a tough kid,” my father’s voice is dry.
I cringe for a moment before smoothing my expression over. Dad never minced his words or hid the fact that I wasn’t the son he’d wanted.
“Glad you could make it, Sammy.” Dad pats my back.
“Did your folks tell you about the New Year’s shindig they’re cooking up?” Uncle Landon asks.
“No.”
“Well, you know it’s almost time for me to run again, and that means good old family P.R. I have a photographer coming to take a few shots.” Mom shrugs.
I grit my teeth.
“We thought it’d be nice if you and Kit came together,” Dad says. “Everyone’s been wondering if you were still single. You’re quite the eligible bachelor, you know? Like your old man was.” He nudges me with his elbow.
“I don’t see why I need a date. I’ll show up in a suit and mingle like I always do.”
She clears her throat. “The race is projected to be close, and a little romance with the beautiful daughter and childhood friend of a fellow politician couldn’t hurt anything. You two spend enough time together that it shouldn’t be a hardship to be seen out and about together.”
I flex my jaw and rub the tips of my fingertips together. What I do is never enough. My parents always want more. Merely showing up and being among the crowd of people looking to catch me doing something embarrassing to print in the papers the next day is enough pressure to drain me for days.
“No.”
Mom’s jaw drops, and Dad’s eyebrows nearly form a unibrow.
“No?” Mom asks softly.
“I won’t use Kit like that.”
“It’s okay, Sam.” She smiles. “I really don’t mind. Being seen out with you and making it in the papers for something with a positive spin is better than the speculation they usually do. You’ve got the whole dark and mysterious vibe going.” Like me, she’s often roped into things by her father.
“I do mind. If you want me to have a date, I’ll choose my own.”
My mother blinks. “Are you seeing someone now?”
“Yes.”
Dad coughs, spluttering as he chokes on his wine. Uncle Landon thumps him on the back. “Since when?” he wheezes.
“Today. I have a date tonight at eight. So, we should begin eating soon. I do not plan on being late.”
“Who is this woman?” Mom asks softly.
“Her name is Delta Elliot. We met at the airport yesterday.”
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Dad says, laughing.
“Harrison,” Mom snaps.
“She’s very nice, and she knows I’m an Aspie,” I admit. When I don’t like things, I can avoid them. I didn’t do that this time.
“Is she also on the spectrum?” Uncle Landon asks.
“I don’t think so.”
“You know, Sam, most people don’t understand what having Asperger’s really means,” Dad says softly.
“She does. I’m pretty sure someone in her family has it.”
“And you’re sure this is a date?” Mom leans onto the counter.
“I’m pretty sure. We agreed to meet at Peddler’s at eight after she asked me when we’d see each other again. I told her I had dinner here, but it wouldn’t last all night.”
“Tell us more about Delta,” Mom prompts.
I recognize the shrewd look in her eyes. She’s going to dig into things she shouldn’t. I clench my jaw and shake my head.
“Let him have a little privacy, Kath. He’s a big boy. He can handle himself.” For once, my fathers on my side. The role reversal is strange but nice.
Mom flicks her gaze toward him. “Remember what happened last time?” she whispers.
“Why don’t we take a walk and catch up?” Uncle Landon asks. He’s used to being the buffer when my parents argue, more often than not about me. “Are you coming, Kit?”
“Yes, sir. Maybe we’ll see some deer.”
Mom’s words bring up a bitter memory. Am I misreading things again? The doubt creeps in like a fog. My brain kicks into hyperdrive, examining all my interactions with Delta. My memory can be a gift. When it comes to chasing trends for work, I appreciate it. The same skill tortures me when I can’t turn it off. I struggle to focus on my Uncle’s stories as I dress for the cold.
I RECHECK MY WATCH as I walk through the village. The shops are closed, but we’re here to look at the lights. There’s something special about walking through the million-light display on Christmas Day. My eyes scan the people milling around, looking for the familiar face. My stomach tightens. What if she doesn’t show up? Am I naïve believing her? My mom’s words echo in my ears. “Are you sure it’s a date?” She kissed me, and she wanted to do it again. That’s not a thing just friends do.
“Sam.”
I stop and turn toward the voice. I spot her a few feet away, waving. Her bright smile does funny things to my stomach. She rushes toward me and wraps her arms around my waist, giving me a squeeze.
“I was half afraid I’d dreamt you up.”
“You were?”
She nods. “Are you ready to see the lights? I’ve missed doing this every year while I was away. When I got to come back to visit, there was never enough time.” She glances up at me with the expression I’ve come to think of as smiling eyes.
“This year marks fifty-eight years of Peddler’s Village.”
“Wow. That’s pretty impressive. I imagine they’ve added quite a few more lights since the original.” She holds out her hand. “Should we start exploring?”
“Yes.” I take her hand cautiously. She holds on tight, and I relax. The trees are wound with lights in different designs. From vertical wrap designs that make them resemble a candy cane to the more unique arrangement, the lights look like they’re growing up from the bark.
“Oh, we’re coming up on one of my favorite places. The gazebo.” The tiny white structure is covered in white lights. Red ribbons run down the poles like a candy cane. “I always thought this was a place where you could make wishes, and they’d come true. I had a lot of imagination growing up.”
“Did it work?”
&nb
sp; Her smile fades. “I thought so once.”
“Why did you change your mind?” I want to know everything about her.
“Life showed me differently.”
We step inside of the gazebo. I tilt my head back, taking in the more detailed decorations. Pine branches have been woven through the rafters, and in the very center, a sprig of mistletoe dangles down. I guess how much time it would take each year to set up the displays.
“How was your Christmas?” she asks.
I grimace. “Uncomfortable.”
“Oh, no. Why?” She squeezes my hand and releases. Warmth flows through me.
“I expected it to be small, with just my mother and father. We ended up having extended guests I wasn’t informed about. I’m not a fan of surprises. My mother tried to set me up with a date for our New Year’s Eve party. I told her I would bring you.” I can’t stop the flow of words spilling from my lips. I know I’m oversharing.
She gasps. “You told them about me?”
“Yes. That we were dating. I won’t hide you or spend all night with someone I have no interest in when I could be with you. Do you want to go to the New Year’s Eve party with me?”
A tinge of pink appears on her cheeks. “Yes. I-I told my family about you, too.”
“It’s fancy.”
She laughs. “That’s okay. It’ll be nice to dress up and have someone to kiss at midnight. You will kiss me at midnight, won’t you?” Her lip curves up into a secret smile, and her eyes hold an expression I can’t place.
I cup her face, letting the warmth chase away the winter chill as I bend down to capture her tempting pink pout. My lips graze hers. They part like petals in the sun, eager for more. “We’ll see. I don’t like to share, and anyone else seeing you like this ...” I run my thumb over her trembling lip. “The pleasure we bring each other is ours alone.”
Thwap. A blow forces me back. Thwap. I glance down and spot another frozen sphere headed my way. It explodes, showering me with icy white powder.
Delta raises her hand to protect her face as she laughs. “We can’t let them get away with this, Sam.” She takes off after the two teenage boys dressed in all black.