The Dating Series

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The Dating Series Page 77

by L. P. Dover


  Optional: Once the biscuits are done, cut them open and add butter. The biscuits will practically melt in your mouth.

  Cranberry Salad Recipe!

  INGREDIENTS:

  1 bag fresh cranberries (12 oz.)

  3 Red Delicious apples

  1 can crushed Pineapple (16 oz.)

  1 box Strawberry Jello

  1 cup sugar

  DIRECTIONS:

  Peel and core apples. Add cranberries and apples to food processor. Once blended, add to a bowl and mix in the can of crushed pineapple, Jello mix, and sugar. I use about ¾ cup of sugar instead of the full 1 cup to cut down on the sweetness. Let sit overnight.

  Praise for A Date with an Elf

  OMG I have loved this whole series and what a way to wrap it up with a sweet, wonderful, and heartwarming Christmas story!

  —Marybeth

  This story is just so Christmasy and sweet. It’s got all the perfectness- a small town, a single dad hottie, a smart and talented heroine, and they were each other’s high school crushes?!

  —Amber - Leave Me Alone I’m Reading

  I am not sure how to express how much I loved this book!!!

  —Christina Coccus (Midnight Reads)

  I've been with this amazing & brilliant series from the jump & don't want it to end, but I'm guessing all good things must come to an end though I'm a tad sad about it.

  —Jennifer Pierson

  A date with an Elf is magical!

  —Stacie Stroup

  One

  Bree

  It’s December 1st, the beginning of the best time of the year. Actually, the second week of November is my beginning because I decorate my house for Christmas. I’m not the only one in my small town of Meadowbrook, Virginia, to go all out for the holidays. It’s a tradition here to put Christmas lights on anything and everything you can. It’s one of the things that makes this time of year light-hearted and enjoyable. People say if you put your decorations up early it makes you happier. I fully stand by that theory.

  “Bree, how much is this one?” Mary-Anne asks, pointing up at a brand-new snowy landscape painting I just hung on the wall today. She works at the bank across the street and is one of my regulars. Since it's December 1st, all the ladies she works with wear their ugly Christmas sweaters every day until Christmas. Mary-Anne always has the craziest designs.

  She doesn’t know I’m the one who painted the snowy landscape. About fifty percent of my gallery paintings are ones I did myself, only I like to keep it a secret even though I do put my initials in the lower right corner. The rest of my gallery's art is from artists I’ve found from my travels who have agreed to let me sell some of their work. I love scouting out new talent.

  I walk up to Mary-Anne and smile. “Oh yes, that one is lovely. The price is two hundred and fifty dollars.”

  Many people like to walk into the gallery and tour it, which is perfectly fine with me. I’m happy to see people enjoying art the way I do.

  Mary-Anne stares at the painting with her eyes narrowed in contemplation. I can tell she’s seriously thinking about buying it. The last picture she bought was a still life of a fruit bowl she wanted for her kitchen. I was proud of that painting. It was a bright Saturday morning, and the sun hit my fruit bowl exactly right. I brought out my easel and got to work. You never know when the inspiration’s going to hit.

  Mary-Anne breaks out into a smile. “I’ll take it. Let me hurry and pay so you can get ready for Santa.”

  “I would be happy to,” I say, laughing. “The kids are probably already lining up in town square to see him.”

  We walk over to the cash register, and she hands me her card. “I think it’s sweet you still dress up as Santa’s elf. Your grandfather is looking down on you and smiling right now.”

  “I hope so.” I charge her card and hand it back to her. “I loved working with him when he played Santa. Seeing how happy it made all the kids made it that much better.”

  Mary-Anne giggles and follows me over to the painting. “I wish my kids were younger when your grandfather was Santa. I think he’s the best one this town has ever had.”

  Eyes burning, I carefully pull her painting down off the wall. “Thank you. That means a lot, Mary-Anne. My grandfather loved volunteering his time for the kids. He looked forward to it all year.” I take one last look at my painting. “Do you want me to package this up for you?” I ask her.

  “Oh, no, sweetheart. There’s no need. I’m going to lay it down in my backseat and take it straight home.” She holds out her hands and gently takes the painting.

  “Thank you for stopping by Mary-Anne. I’m glad you found something you liked.”

  She snorts. “Seriously, Bree? I like everything in your gallery. If I could afford it, I’d buy them all. I’m so glad you opened this place. I wish your grandmother could’ve seen it. She and your grandfather used to travel around to all sorts of art exhibits.”

  Since I was their only grandchild, they took me on several of their trips. It’s what made me fall in love with the arts. My grandparents were the ones who sent me abroad to an art school in Barcelona. After my grandfather died of cancer a couple of years ago, and my grandmother six months later, they left me a huge inheritance. With that money, I opened the gallery so everyone could enjoy art the way they did. I never thought it would take off the way it has, but people really like my paintings. I plan to offer more variety once I find the right artists to showcase. I’m hoping to find just that before my Christmas exhibit opens up.

  “Well, I appreciate it,” I say in all honesty. “I love it when people like what I have here.”

  Mary-Anne holds the painting close. “Trust me. I’ll be back when you have the Christmas exhibit open. I bet you sell out of everything this year.”

  That would be amazing. “I hope so,” I tell her. “I have a lot of new stuff to showcase.” Which I do, but I’m hoping to have something different to add to the appeal. If only I could find what I’m looking for.

  “Can’t wait.” She waves and heads for the door. It’s almost seven o’clock, the closing time for the gallery and the opening time for Santa’s visits in the town square. I rush to the back of the store to my office and change into my elf costume. I’ve been volunteering as Santa’s helper ever since I was twelve years old when my grandfather took the job. He played Santa right up until the year he died. One of my father’s good friends is now our Santa, and I promised to keep up my elf duties. I don’t mind volunteering my time; it brings me joy. If my father looked anything like Santa Claus, I know he would’ve taken the position, but he’s too skinny and when he tried to grow a beard, it looked patchy. Needless to say, he wouldn’t have made a good Santa.

  Once I’m dressed, I have ten minutes to lock up the store and walk over to the middle of town square which is only a block away. The bell on my front door dings, and I already know who’s in my gallery by the little girly squeal.

  “Are you ready to see Santa?” I call out as I walk out of my office. When Brittany sees me, she squirms out of her mother’s arms and runs over, her blonde curls bouncing around her shoulders. I scoop her up into my arms and kiss her cheek. “Hey, sweetheart. Did you have a good day at preschool?”

  Lindy chuckles. “Her teacher said all she talked about was how she was going to see Santa tonight and that her Aunt Bree is his elf.”

  I’m not really Brittany’s aunt, but I love her just like she was my niece. Her mother is my best friend and has been ever since we were in elementary school. Since I don’t have any siblings even to be an aunt, it’s nice to have the honorary title.

  Brittany giggles. “Can we go now? I want to see Santa.”

  I set her down, and she bounces on her feet. Lindy nods toward the door. “There are so many people out there tonight. You wouldn’t believe who I ran into.”

  “Who?” I ask, grabbing the store keys from behind the cash register.

  She waggles her eyebrows. “Justin Hastings. He’s in town for the holi
days and looking cute and single. He asked about you.”

  Rolling my eyes, I point to the door. “Not going to happen, Lindy. I’m not interested in a Christmas booty call. Justin lives in Georgia and only visits his parents on the holidays.”

  “What’s a booty call?” Brittany asks, her big eyes staring curiously at me.

  Mouth gaping, I look at her and then at Lindy. “Ooops. I shouldn’t have said that.”

  Lindy picks Brittany up in her arms, and I open the door for them. “Aunt Bree is just talking about a phone call, honey. She doesn’t want to talk to Justin.” Then she gasps and nods toward all the Christmas lights on all the shops. “Look at the lights. Aren’t they pretty?” Lindy glares at me and then smiles. “Now that she’s in preschool, she listens to everything. It’s getting harder for me and Trent to spell things out because she knows what we’re talking about.”

  We both laugh, and I ruffle Brittany’s curls. “She’s a smart one.”

  Downtown Meadowbrook is breathtaking. Twinkling lights adorn every doorway and window, all the trees are decorated with white lights and ornaments, and there’s always a group of carolers that sing around the town square.

  “I wish it could be like this all year,” I say.

  Brittany squeals. “Yay! And get presents too.”

  I wink at her. “Exactly. It just so happens I have a couple of things for you underneath my tree at home.”

  Her eyes twinkle, and she claps her hands. Every time I’m around her, it makes me want kids of my own. Unfortunately, life hasn’t given me a chance yet.

  “When was the last time you talked to Mark?” Lindy asks, her expression curious.

  Thinking of him makes my stomach clench. I was with him for three years, and I loved him. I thought we would get married and start a family, but when he shared his disinterest in having kids, I couldn’t see myself giving up that dream. He wouldn’t budge, and neither would I.

  “He called me on Thanksgiving,” I reply blandly.

  “And?” she prods. “What did he say?”

  Releasing a heavy sigh, I avert my gaze to all the people gathered around the town’s gigantic Christmas tree. Santa’s sleigh is just on the other side, where I know there will be a gazillion kids lined up to see him.

  “He asked how I was doing and if I was seeing anyone.”

  Lindy laughs. “Wow. Is he trying to get you back?”

  I huff. “Yep. I told him I wasn’t interested in wasting time with someone who doesn’t want the same things I do. I mean, my God, I’m thirty-four years old. I don’t want to be fifty and having my first child.” Meadowbrook is a small town, but we’re right in the middle between Richmond and Norfolk. With the way I travel around looking for talent, I’ve met men from all over Virginia. I’ve dated a couple here and there, but every one of them have been so focused on their careers they can’t think of anything else. I’m focused on mine too, but I also want to live life and enjoy it. Money is good to have, but it’s not what makes me happy.

  Lindy bumps me with her shoulder. “The right guy will come along, Bree. That I can promise you.”

  I wink at her. “Maybe Santa will be able to find him for me.”

  “Ask him,” Brittany says, her voice all cute and innocent. “I’ll do it for you.”

  Brittany’s only four years old, but she’s smart as can be. “Thank you, Britt. Maybe if we both ask him it’ll happen.”

  My dad’s friend, Jody, is already in place at the sleigh, looking exactly like Santa Claus in my grandfather’s costume and red and white hat with the puffball on the end. One thing I loved about my grandfather was that his beard was real. Jody’s is the same, and he starts growing it out in the middle of the year to get ready for Christmas.

  He spots me with Lindy and waves. The line is already long, but it moves fast. “Go get in line, and I’ll see you both up there.” I give Britt a quick squeeze. “I’ll sneak you an extra candy cane.”

  She snickers. “Okay.”

  I walk past all the kids in line, and almost all of them know me since I’ve been Santa’s elf for twenty-two years. Jody stands and hugs me. “Ready for another season?”

  I laugh. “You bet.”

  He lets me go and sits down on the sleigh. “Thank you for doing this with me.”

  Looking out at all the smiling faces in the crowd, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be. Seeing all the joy really does make me happy. “I love doing it. It makes me feel like my granddaddy’s right here with me.”

  “And he is,” Jody murmurs. “This was his favorite time of the year.”

  I wave my hands in front of my face to keep from crying. “Mine too. All right, let’s get to work.” Turning toward our waiting guests, I wave for the first little boy and his mother to come up. His name is Matthew, and I remember him from last year. He had asked for a real-life dinosaur, and I’m pretty sure he didn’t get it. “Hey there, Matthew. I think you grew two inches since last year.” I wink at his mother, and she smiles. I help him up onto Santa’s lap, and he goes through his spiel of everything he wants. Usually, kids all want the same things: electronics, money, games, dolls, etc. Sometimes, we get children who want their deceased loved ones back or their pets who died. It breaks my heart because I know there’s no way they can get them back.

  Once Matthew finishes his visit, I help several dozen other kids onto Santa’s lap and send them off with a candy cane. Next in line is Brittany, and she’s bouncing with excitement. I pick her up and set her onto Santa’s knee.

  “I remember you,” Santa tells her. “Brittany, right?”

  Brittany beams. “Yes.”

  Jody winks up at me and then focuses back on her. “What would you like to have this Christmas?”

  Brittany closes a hand over her mouth and giggles while she goes through her list. It turns out I have a couple of the things she wants already wrapped and ready for her. Once she’s done, she starts to slide off his lap but then stops. “Oh, I also want to ask for one more thing.”

  Santa leans in close. “What is it?”

  Brittany smiles up at me. “I want Aunt Bree to be happy.”

  “I see,” Santa says. “And how can I make her happy?”

  Brittany giggles again. “She wants a boyfriend.”

  It takes all I have not to burst out laughing. What she’s saying is so sweet. Santa hands her a candy cane and laughs. “All right, sweet Brittany, I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Thanks, Santa.”

  Lindy comes up and helps Brittany off the sleigh. “Try hard on that last request, Santa.”

  “Yes, please do,” I add, whispering the words to him.

  He chuckles. “Don’t worry. You’ll meet him very soon.”

  Two

  Caleb

  Hiring a moving company to move Alyssa and me from Charlotte back to my hometown of Meadowbrook was the best idea I’ve come up with in about a year. The hassle of moving is far less of a nightmare when someone else is doing all the heavy lifting for you. I just wish the moving company had to unpack, put away, and decorate my new house as well. I sigh heavily as I look at the perfectly square brown boxes stacked throughout my living room. Granted, they’re stacked in an orderly fashion and tucked into the corner. If I had moved them, they’d be haphazardly strewn everywhere. Boxes for the living room would be in the bathroom, and the things I need for the kitchen would be in my bedroom closet. Disorganized is the only way to describe my life right now.

  Instead of unpacking, I sit down on the couch, lean back, close my eyes, and ignore the thick plastic covering the new sofa. When I decided to move, I did so knowing I needed a fresh start. This meant new furniture. Not just in the living room, but the dining and bedrooms as well. Even the bathrooms have new bathmat colors and towels. My therapist disagreed with me, so I replaced her as well. Well, not exactly. I just quit going. I wasn’t going to pay someone to tell me I’m making a mistake in the way I’m handling my grief or how I decide to start over. What works for one i
sn’t necessarily going to work for another, and for me, everything needs to be new. It’s not that I’m trying to forget my wife; it’s that I’m trying to move on and give my daughter the happiest life I can, and if that means new furniture, then so be it.

  Alyssa comes into the room and approaches me. She’s quiet, like a mouse, as she likes to say, and tries to sit on the couch without making any noise. I try to hold back a smile but can’t. If it weren’t for her, I don’t know where I’d be right now. She’s been my saving grace this past year.

  “Daddy,” she whispers. “This couch is very noisy.”

  I open one eye and peer toward her. Nestled in her arm and pressed to her chest is the teddy bear the family who received my wife’s heart gave to Alyssa.

  “I kind of like the plastic.”

  “Ew, it’s sticky and hard.”

  “But it’ll keep the couch clean.”

  Alyssa sighs. “Well, I’m going to have to bring my bean bag downstairs because I’m not sitting on this anymore.” She slides off and grimaces. “I’m telling Nana,” she mutters. This gets my attention, and I sit up while Alyssa giggles.

  “I’ll take the plastic off, but because I love you so much you can still bring your bean bag downstairs.”

  She shakes her head. “Maybe. I don’t know if I want you to sit on it.”

  “Hey,” I say as I pull her toward me. “That’s not very nice. Santa’s watching, ya know.”

  Alyssa smiles a very toothless grin. “Nana says I have been a very good girl.”

  She has, all things considered. Christmas is something I’m not looking forward to. I don’t know how to be the mom my wife was at this time of year. Last year, my mother saved the holiday and made it something special for Alyssa. I know she’ll do the same this year, but I can’t depend on my mother to be grandma and play Santa forever. This year, I’ve vowed to make the holidays better for Alyssa.

 

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