The Christmas Promise

by Janice Carter

  That brought another laugh. “Not much ice-skating in the summer here.”

  “True enough.” His eyes met hers for a long, thoughtful moment. He was wishing he had time to discover all the other unknown sides to Ella Jacobs. “So, what now?” he asked as they sat down to take off their skates.

  Ella looked up from knotting the laces on her boots. “Hot chocolate?”

  The childlike lilt in the question warmed his heart. “It’s a deal. I think Mabel’s might be open late for the festivities.” Hand in hand, they wound their way through the crowds, pausing briefly to watch great blocks of ice being lifted from a truck onto wooden platforms along the perimeter of the square.

  “Those are for the ice sculpture contest next weekend.” Ben wanted to ask if she might stay or at least come back to town for it, but he didn’t want to be disappointed if she said no.

  They strolled toward Mabel’s and the harbor area. There were no empty tables at the diner, so they ordered their drinks to go and carried paper cups of the thick, rich chocolate down to the harbor. The stiff breeze had died down and they found a bench overlooking the marina boardwalk. He smiled at the soft humming sounds Ella was making as she held her cup between both hands and sipped.

  “Delicious.” He chugged the last mouthful and crumpled the cup in his hand.

  “Finished already? That was fast.”

  “When I enjoy something, I want to dive right in. No dainty sips or nibbles for me.”

  Her laugh bounced from bench to bay and back. Ben pulled her closer. “Warm enough?”

  “I am now.” Her face tilted up to his, golden in the soft pools of light from the street behind them. A tiny streak of chocolate lurked in the corner of her mouth and as Ben dabbed it with his finger, her lips parted in a hesitant smile. He dipped his head and kissed her. Every nerve in his body came alive. His mouth filled with the smoky richness of chocolate and the tastes of Ella he’d dreamed about for years. He was spinning back in time to other kisses, furtive and exciting. Later he couldn’t remember taking the cup from her hands and setting it on the bench beside him. But he must have, because her arms reached up around him and her hands gently held his face against hers, as if to keep him right there, locked on to her.

  Eventually he reluctantly pulled his mouth away from hers. “That was better than any hot chocolate I’ve ever had anywhere.”

  There was that smile again, the one that gave mixed messages. But her eyes told the whole truth. They were incandescent. Ben tucked her into the crook of his arm, holding on as tight as he dared. Giant snowflakes circled lazily from a black sky speckled with stars, and Ben wanted the night to last forever.

  CHAPTER NINE

  ELLA COULDN’T RECALL when she’d had a better sleep. She stretched under the duvet, raising her arms to touch the headboard and extending her legs till her toes poked out at the end. Except for bumping into Suzanna Winters and that friend of Grace’s who’d given her such a dirty look, there had been no bad moments last night. Uncomfortable ones for sure, especially when Ben had walked her back to the hotel from Mabel’s, but not bad.

  Something indefinable had happened between them. Ella couldn’t point to exactly what had led to this newfound comfort and ease with Ben. Maybe the skating, when she’d seen a vulnerability in him that she’d never noticed when he was young. He was no longer the boy she’d once known whose physical bearing always exuded confidence and strength. The new Ben had taken her teasing with humor and grace. All the pieces of last night had fit together perfectly, with the kiss completing the picture.

  She’d been looking for that last piece for years and finally she had an answer. Yes, she could—and did—feel the same as the teenager she’d once been. Except last night’s kiss had been so much more than the breathless excitement of their stolen kisses back then. There had been promise in it...and hope.

  But these are my feelings, she thought. Did the kiss mean the same to him? Ella pondered that question as she got dressed. Perhaps she was reading too much into the kiss. It could have been only a spontaneous expression of pleasure at a fun night together. But no, she thought. A kiss like that would have been on her forehead or cheek. She stared briefly at her reflection in the bathroom mirror as she brushed her teeth. However you want to analyze last night, Jacobs, not much in your current life will change because of a single kiss. Remember that.

  Because it was her last full day, and Ben had told her he had work, Ella decided to go for a walk after breakfast. A peek out the window revealed a bright, sunny day, but plumes of frosty air swirling up from the open patches of water in the harbor indicated cold temperatures. Ella reconsidered her wardrobe and reached for the hoodie she’d worn last night, knowing she’d need something on her head.

  Mabel’s Diner was just opening when Ella arrived. “Making up for a late night,” explained the young woman who held the door for Ella.

  “Well, I appreciated the hot chocolate last night, so thanks for staying open.” She sat at a nearby table and scanned the chalkboard for breakfast options. Something hearty to prep for her walk. She was sipping the coffee the waiter had poured when she felt a presence at her side.

  “I recommend the eggs Benedict.” Grace was beaming down at her. “And I’m so happy you decided to stay, Ella.”

  Ella remembered her decision to remain in town for the weekend was mainly due to her unfinished business with Ben, something she’d forgotten in the headiness of last night. “Join me?”

  “Thanks, but I’ve just come for some take-out coffee and cocoa. Becky’s helping me this morning, and I always provide treats. I assume you’ll be coming to the tree lighting tonight, then?”

  Ella nodded.

  “Wonderful, ’cause Drew’s coming, too, and you’ll get a chance to meet him.”

  The evening ahead was developing by the second. Ella had been planning a confrontation with Ben before leaving town and felt an unreasonable twinge of resentment at having little control over how her last few hours in the Cove would play out. “Great” was all she said.

  “Okay, well, see you tonight.”

  Ella watched her friend go to the take-out counter and felt unexpectedly happy for her. She knew Grace was a decent person who’d made a mistake that ended badly, something that could happen to anyone. Even me. Brandon’s wounded face after her angry taunt that night burst into her thoughts. Ella’s breath caught and for a split second she was standing on the lighthouse path, his pained, accusing voice ringing in her ears. She closed her eyes.

  “Are you ready to order?”

  Ella opened her eyes. The server was standing beside her. “Yes, thanks. I’ll have the eggs Benedict.”

  * * *

  THE TOWN LOOKED so much smaller from the lighthouse path. Or perhaps viewing it from up there as an adult had something to do with the perspective. Ella’s heart rate slowed after the challenging slog through midcalf-deep snow. Fifteen minutes ago she’d been gazing up at the snow-covered dunes towering over the beach and thinking a route to the lighthouse would be easier from the Cove’s upper road, near the highway. But to take it, she’d have to walk back through town. Of course, she could have driven to the junction where the dunes met the highway and trekked to the lighthouse from there, which also would have been easier, but challenges appealed to Ella.

  Turning away from the scene below, she stared at the lighthouse several yards ahead. It wasn’t as pretty as she remembered. The red band that circled it had faded to a dull salmon color and its cap of snow gave it a slightly comical appearance, like a cartoon character. She almost expected the lighthouse to start singing and dancing. It definitely wasn’t the image she’d been stressing over. Perhaps returning to the Cove in winter, when everything looked so different, had its positive side. But when she eyed the ice-covered black rocks circling the cement base, Ella shivered.

  Was that where Brandon had been found? Or had he been disc
overed at the foot of the dunes, closer to the beach? This may not have been such a good idea. She shivered in spite of the exertion of the climb. Deciding to head back, she spotted something red in a drift of snow and moved toward it, noticing what she hadn’t before. Footprints. They weren’t fresh, and their imprints had been lightly filled in by last night’s snowfall. They stopped right at the flash of red—a bouquet of frozen roses.

  Ella looked around as if she might discover someone hiding nearby, then tittered nervously at the foolish notion. There was no one else here, as far as she could see, and few places to hide anyway. Get a grip, Jacobs. Whoever had been up here was long gone. Perhaps the flowers were meant as some kind of memorial. For Brandon? If so, then the person could have been Grace, because she was the organizer behind the memorial. Ella would ask her about the flowers when she saw her later. For now, the chill was filtering through her extra layers. Ella retraced her steps, noticing that more footprints were coming from the direction of the road. It was an easier route for sure, but did Grace own a car? Or maybe someone drove her. Hadn’t she said her fiancé was in town?

  Ella was focused on these questions and missed the precise place where she’d climbed up. She realized her mistake as soon as she stepped onto the snow-covered slope and her foot hit an invisible patch of ice. She slipped, fell backward and slid down the dune. If she hadn’t been startled by the tumble, she might have laughed at her comical descent. When she hit the bottom, she waited a moment to assess any damage. All to her pride, she decided with relief. On her way toward the center of town, she paused in front of Cassie Fielding’s place.

  Staring at the shuttered bungalow, Ella realized she hadn’t once considered what had become of her. She knew there’d been just Cassie and her mother, with no word of a father. Ella had never been inside their home. Cassie maintained her mother wasn’t a tidy housekeeper and didn’t like guests. Besides, the Winters home had always been so welcoming. Grace’s mother had been warm and friendly, frequently baking cookies and other treats for them.

  Plus, Ben had sometimes been around. He was the draw for Ella that last summer and, as it turned out, for Cassie, too. If she’d known back then about Cassie’s own crush on Ben, she might have reacted differently the night of the bonfire—been more conciliatory to Brandon and empathetic to Cassie. Ella sighed. That was her adult self revising history. Teenagers didn’t think like that. She suddenly wondered if Cassie had married and had children. Somehow that image didn’t fit the teen Ella remembered. But then, here you are, Ella Jacobs—unmarried, childless and unloved. The sting of tears forced her on. Self-pity was unproductive.

  Most of the sidewalk beyond the Fielding house had been cleared, so she made better progress. As she walked, she scanned the rows of permanent bungalows and summer cottages, looking for the one her family had always rented. It had been small for their family of four. Ella and her younger brother had shared one of the two bedrooms, which had been an annual source of annoyance. On warm summer nights, she’d often camped out on the tiny screened-in porch, but later, when she was a teen, she’d sometimes slept over at Grace’s. Ella’s crush on Ben and his obvious interest in her had charged the sleepovers with an exciting tension that she identified later as adolescent hormonal stirrings. If only she’d had an older sibling or friend who could have taken her aside to advise, Look, these feelings you have are perfectly natural, but don’t let them cloud your judgment. They’re not going to last forever.

  When she reached the roadside staircase leading up to the Winters home, Ella stopped. Her old cottage must be here somewhere. She remembered it was near the bottom of the hill where the Winters home perched, making access to Grace so convenient. She walked back and forth, studying each of the bungalows. One that was bigger and newer seemed to be in the approximate location where hers had been, but she couldn’t be certain. Finally, she gave up and continued on her way. Another hot chocolate at Mabel’s was beckoning.

  * * *

  BEN PARKED BEHIND the black SUV that belonged to Drew Spencer, Grace’s fiancé. The Coast Guard officer was in town from Portland for the tree lighting and was staying at Grace’s apartment, while she was bunking in her old room across from Ben’s. He knew their mother liked the arrangement. Not because the couple wasn’t married and she was old-fashioned but because, for a few rare hours, she got to relive the past when both of her children were home. The house was too big for just his parents, and Ben sometimes wondered how long they’d want to stay in it, given his father’s ongoing health problems. Maybe he’d be able to persuade them to move into one of the new condos he hoped to be building in the very near future.

  His meeting with Andy that morning had gone well. They’d tweaked the bank presentation for Monday, deciding to highlight the condo design rather than the company’s current financial downturn. If the numbers scare them, they won’t be objective about your ideas, Andy had told Ben. They won’t see the potential. That was the key word they’d agreed on as a focus. Ben knew the company had a good reputation here and in the greater Portland area, and its equity was solid. He wasn’t worried about paying bills or making payroll. For now.

  He and Ella had arranged to meet at Mabel’s prior to the tree lighting, which was scheduled for seven. They’d pick up a coffee and walk to the square, then have dinner later. Seeing Drew’s vehicle, Ben decided to invite the two of them, as well. It might be Grace’s last chance for a visit with Ella. And yours. The thought jolted him back to reality.

  Last night’s kiss had been replaying in his head all day at the most inconvenient times. There’d been a moment when Andy had caught him staring off into space and he’d been forced to come up with a vague reply to his question, Something up, boss? Ben was determined not to let anything dampen these last few hours with Ella, especially the sobering fact that a kiss was no guarantee of a future with her.

  He climbed out of his car and went inside. As usual, the house was quiet. Ben thought he heard the TV in the den and as he walked along the hall, he could hear the radio in the solarium. These were the rooms his parents dwelled in more and more, along with the kitchen and master bedroom, of course. He went to the kitchen first for a glass of water and then on to the solarium, where his mother was reading the newspaper in her favorite armchair.

  “Hello, dear. You were up and out early this morning.”

  “I had a meeting with Andy to discuss our next presentation.”

  “When is it?”

  “Monday morning.” Ben sat on the chair across from her.

  “Do you feel prepared for it?”

  He had to smile at his mother’s concern. Her expression took him right back to final exams in twelfth grade. “I feel optimistic.”

  “Will you pass it by your father beforehand?”

  That was a loaded question. She was well aware of the ongoing battle of wills with Charles. Was she suggesting he ought to see his father first, or was she merely curious? Ben leaned forward and ran a finger across his forehead. This part of his life badly needed fixing. He was about to make some noncommittal reply when his mother surprised him.

  “You don’t have to, you know. That’s all I’m saying. He made you temporary head, and I know how challenging it’s been for you. I’ve lived with your father for forty-two years and no one knows him better. Do what’s best for you and the company. Trust yourself.”

  While he stared at her, his mouth embarrassingly agape, she went on to say, “Suzanna phoned me with some startling news.”

  Ben was still focusing on his mother’s advice about Charles and was slow to pick up on the abrupt change in her expression. “What?”

  “She told me that girl is back. Well, obviously she’s a woman now, but—”

  “Are you referring to Ella?”

  “I am, Ben. She’s staying at the hotel, and—”

  “And I was with her when we bumped into Suzanna.” Ben felt a rise of hot annoyance. No. Anger
. This was what happened to people living in small towns—with their parents.

  “So Suzanna told me. Why didn’t you mention anything to us?”

  Now his irritation was directed at his sister. “Grace invited her and I figured it was her job to tell you and Dad.”

  “We all know how diligent Grace is about keeping people informed.” Evelyn sniffed.

  He took a deep breath. “Mom, we also know the truth about what happened. Ella Jacobs had nothing to do with any of it. And no,” he quickly put in, seeing she was about to interrupt, “don’t bring up that old chestnut about ‘where there’s smoke, there must be fire.’ You know very well Ella wasn’t to blame at all. For anything.”

  “That’s not how people in town see it, Ben. After I got off the phone with Suzanna, Janet Jeffery happened to call about book club and asked me if I knew Ella Jacobs was in town. She’d heard from a friend who’d noticed a poster in the bookstore window about her coming for some presentation. Janet was shocked that she’d have the nerve to show her face here. I haven’t had a chance to speak to Grace yet, but I will. I can’t for the life of me comprehend why she invited her here. Bringing up old hurts.”

  “I hope you put your friend straight about Ella, Mom. That she played no part in what happened to Brandon.”

  When Evelyn looked away Ben knew she hadn’t and felt a rise of frustration.

  Finally, she said, “There are many sides to this story, Ben, and though we think we know them now, because of what Grace has told us, we may not. Ella Jacobs may regret accepting Grace’s invitation after she reads this.” She held up a copy of The Beacon.

  Ben’s stomach tightened. He wished he could have done something about the review, but interfering wouldn’t have been right. In his anxiety over the funding presentations, he’d completely forgotten. He reached for the paper, turning to the page his mother had folded over.

  Fact or Fiction? the headline read. Ben skimmed the article.