Christmas, Alabama

by Susan Sands

  “I know. It just doesn’t seem to be worth the time and effort. It’s a lot more fun to share a meal.” They’d placed everything on the table now and sat down together. “I could get used to this.”

  That’s what Rachel was thinking. She held up her wineglass. “Here’s to not eating alone.”

  They toasted their togetherness and dug into the scampi.

  “I can’t believe you’ve kept your cooking skills a secret this long. Holy cow, this is delicious.”

  “It’s my mother’s recipe. She’s a fantastic cook, and has tons of old New Orleans recipes stashed in a great big box. At some point, I need to help her scan them all onto the computer. I’d love to print out the pages, laminate, and organize them by food groups. Create a family cookbook of sorts.” Rachel hadn’t really developed this idea until now. She’d only considered trying to save the recipes from getting lost or destroyed.

  “That would be a fantastic birthday or Christmas gift. Most of our mothers are in the same situation. They haven’t ever let go of their stained and torn favorites. Mom likes to cook, but she’s kind of lost her passion for it the last few years since she and Dad are alone in the house.”

  “Wouldn’t it be fun to gather everyone’s moms’ recipe boxes and make cookbooks for them next year?” Rachel asked, suddenly enthusiastic about the project. She was thinking about Maureen Laroux, her mom, maybe Matthew’s mom, and Nick’s mom.

  Then she realized what she’d said aloud. Next year. Where would they be next year? Her lip trembled, dammit. No. She would not cry. She wasn’t a crier.

  “You okay?” he asked and put his fork down.

  Rachel pressed her lips together, hard, and nodded. But without her permission a single tear slipped out her left eye and down her cheek. All the way down and plopped right into her scampi.

  Nick’s expression suddenly grew troubled. “Rachel, please tell me what is happening.”

  “I’m going to miss you. I’m not seeing my immediate future without you in it.” She just blew it. The thing she was going to bring up so gently, he would hardly have seen it coming.

  His face grew stern, as if he was trying to control his own emotions. “I’ve been giving it a lot of thought too.”

  “I like you being here—with me. I swore to myself I could do this, that I wouldn’t get attached.” Her face crumpled into a full-blown hiccupping sob. “I’m attached.”

  He dumped his chair backward and pulled her from her chair into his arms. He held her for a moment while she sniffled a little in his embrace. Then, he maneuvered them both to the sofa. Oh, the horror of the ugly cry.

  “Rachel, all I’ve been thinking about lately is a way for this to work—to give us a real shot, because I’ve gotten attached to you too.” He gently touched her cheek. “I didn’t mean to, but here we are.”

  “Yes, here we are and you’re leaving in a few weeks,” she said.

  “I know your family is here, and that this is where you want to make a home and raise your family someday.”

  Rachel nodded, and placed her hand on his. “I just got here and settled in. I’ve been wandering around freelancing since college, and this is the first place I’ve begun to put down roots since my dad broke up our family. It’s not that I’m unwilling to move, I just don’t think I’m ready to leave my mom and Sabine again, yet. This is so hard.”

  “Atlanta’s not that far from Ministry. Not so far that we couldn’t try to figure this out for a little while until we know what it is we both want.”

  Rachel fought the urge to cry buckets now. She’d had some stupid idea deep down that he’d be willing to just give up Atlanta for Ministry because she’d become attached to him. How stupid was she?

  “Okay. Well, I guess weekends wouldn’t be so terrible,” she said in a very small voice. He would pine for her here in Alabama; wouldn’t he? That was sad and pathetic, wasn’t it?

  “Rachel, I’ve got commitments I need to see through in the short-term. But I want to be with you.”

  “I understand. I mean, who would just give up an entire career for some girl they just met in a podunk town in Alabama?” That sounded so uselessly needy. Who has she become?

  He stared at her with the saddest expression. “I wish I could right now.”

  “Well, let’s get on with that show you promised me. Or, have you changed your mind?” Rachel put on her happy face. The one she pulled out when things got tough.

  “Rachel, I—” He tried to pull her to him.

  She stood then, and went to pour another glass of wine. “Would you like some?” she asked.

  He shook his head, his face a mask of worry. “I can go if you want.”

  She came back over to where he was sitting. “No. I don’t want you to go. I don’t blame you, you know? It’s just such an impossible situation. Stay with me tonight. Let’s make our time together the best we can while you’re still here.”

  Rachel stood in front of him now, still holding her wineglass in one hand. She reached out for his hand with the other. He smiled, still with a sadness in his eyes, though he took her hand and rose. “I hope you know, there’s no place I’d rather be than here with you.”

  “Good thing, because that’s where you are. Now, on with the show, big boy,” she teased and led him to her bedroom. “I hope you brought a pile of those little wrappers.”

  “Don’t worry. If I’m with you, they’re with me.”

  “Smart man.”

  Rachel decided a distraction was needed today. As she meandered down the street and approached the deserted retail space on the corner she’d been eyeing since she’d moved to Ministry, she wiped off a spot on the dusty front glass and attempted to peer inside. Sadly, the interior windows were covered with butcher paper, so it was impossible to see anything. She’d not had the courage to research who the space belonged to, yet. There wasn’t a sign declaring the empty storefront for rent or for sale. Her grand idea for a studio had been mostly talk and dreaming, thus far. Very few people even knew her plans.

  Rachel had convinced herself these plans were in the future, at some as-yet-to-be-determined date and year. Maybe it was time to determine when that was. Her father’s mention of the trust money had got her thinking about things. She could inquire about her trust any time she wanted. Or, at least broach the subject with her mother. Mom never really spoke of it, so maybe it was time to bring it up.

  But first, she wanted to find out who owned this little slice of heaven that was sure to be her future studio. Especially now that Nick had all but told her he wasn’t planning to change his life for her anytime soon. Well, that wasn’t exactly what he’d said. But Rachel decided not to get her hopes up, and to concentrate on moving forward with her plans for her own future.

  Last night had been amazing, considering the emotional nature of their conversation earlier in the evening. They were so physically compatible, and at ease together in both intimate or casual situations. Rachel looked forward to watching football with Nick almost as much as having mind-blowing sex with him.

  She understood what a rare thing that was, and because it was so important they both felt the same way, and were willing to go to the same lengths for a long-term relationship, Rachel decided to let Nick work out whatever he needed to. She’d made it pretty clear she was willing to make big changes to be together, at least eventually.

  “Hi there. Window shopping?”

  Rachel nearly jumped out of her skin. “You scared me to death, Ivy.”

  Ivy laughed. Today she wore a long-sleeved black jumpsuit with white piping and a wide white belt and black, shiny high-heeled boots. Her hair was in some sort of a chignon. At least she thought that was what women called the throwback updo hairstyle.

  “Don’t you look adorable? Aren’t you chilly?” Rachel wore a heavy sweater layer over a collared plaid button-down with jeans and boots.

  “I sacrifice comfort for fashion on a regular basis. But, this oddity is warmer than it looks.” She motioned to her
outfit. “So, what are you doing trying to see through windows?”

  “I’m interested in opening a photography studio, and I’ve had my eye on this space for ages. Do you know who owns it?”

  “I do. We own most of the block, though most folks don’t know it. We’ve been renting retail spaces here for years with the local realty company as property manager. They handle the upkeep and repairs, and keep the Balfour name somewhat quiet as the name on the deed. It keeps us out of the papers, though now that Daddy and I are back and publically running the inn, it doesn’t matter so much anymore.”

  “Why didn’t you want your name out in the open before?” Rachel asked.

  “When you’re not around to answer people’s questions, they have a way of creating their own reality about you. It was our way of keeping a low profile knowing we planned to return someday to restore the inn and live here again. If the stories and speculation had gotten too out of hand in our absence, it would have been hard to come back.”

  Rachel nodded, thinking about ever going back to New Orleans after her father’s public debacle. “I understand. My daddy left a trail of trash for endless tales to be told about our family back in New Orleans. Most would likely be true, of course, but there’s no one left to set the record straight when they become too fantastic.”

  Ivy winced. “I guess you do get it. We didn’t have scandal, so much as people wondering why my parents left the town and never came back. Speculation in a small town is so much fun.”

  “So, this space—is it for sale?” Rachel asked.

  Ivy made a face. “I’ve never considered selling property on Main Street. Renting, yes, but not selling. It’s my family’s legacy.”

  “What about a long-term lease with improvements?”

  “I’d be willing to discuss restoring the space to your needs and leasing it,” Ivy said. “Let me talk to Daddy about it. We’ve been so busy with the inn, we haven’t made plans for the few empty storefronts here.”

  It wasn’t exactly what Rachel was hoping for, but it might work. Ivy was a business woman above all else, and leasing the space would allow Rachel to buy equipment without having to come up with money to buy the building.

  “Okay. Thanks so much. Let me know what you and Mr. Mason come up with.”

  “What about your hottie doctor?” Ivy asked.

  “Nick? What about him?” Rachel instantly became defensive.

  “Why do I think this has something to do with him? Did you break up?”

  “No, we didn’t break up. This studio has been my dream for a long time. Nick is here temporarily, and I can’t stop my life while he figures his out.”

  “That sounds a little angry. Are you sure you don’t want to give him a little time before you jump into a long-term commitment to opening and running a business?”

  Rachel shrugged. “We’re going to try the long-distance thing for a little while. I don’t want to sit around hoping he decides I’m what or who he wants.”

  “Still, Rachel, love has a way of derailing plans and rerouting our dreams. Just look at my parents. My mom would never have left Ministry. Her family owned half the town. But she followed my dad to Atlanta because that’s where their future took them.” Ivy placed a hand on Rachel’s shoulder. “They were happy, Rach. For all those years together. Sure, my mom wanted to come back here to retire and restore the inn, but she got sick before they had the chance. Don’t take the chance of losing Nick to pride.”

  Rachel thought about that. “It’s so early in our relationship, Ivy. I just don’t want to get stuck with my heart broken and left with nothing. If I have my studio, at least I still have my dream.”

  “Tell you what, I’ll talk to my dad, and we can draw up the plans together. You can have a look, and let us know what you want, and give us some idea of what you’re thinking. That should buy you some time with Nick.”

  “Thanks, Ivy. Please don’t tell anyone how bad I’ve got it for him.”

  “Are you kidding? My lips are sealed. We’re friends, aren’t we? And I’m thrilled to get this storefront moving in the right direction. We’re doing our part to beautify this town.”

  “Y’all are doing a great job.”

  The two women hugged, and Rachel continued toward the giant tree in the square. Today, she planned to photograph the downtown area, all gussied up for Christmas. The storefronts were pure perfection, complete with lights, garland, and small lit and decorated trees set out front under the overhangs during business hours. After hours, the trees were placed just inside the plate glass windows, and the nighttime effect was stunning. The oversized ornaments had been hung between shops, just at the rooflines. High enough to be out of children’s reach, but low enough to be seen and admired throughout the holidays.

  The children’s tree decorating was scheduled for this evening. Every family in town, or even outside of town, was invited to bring a hand-made ornament to hang on the tree. Of course, Rachel would be there to take photos during the event as well.

  As much as Rachel might like to have indulged today in a bout of self-pity, her schedule didn’t allow it. So, she settled for internal fretting and muttering from time to time when she thought about the embarrassment of being the one who was willing to make the most changes. It was never good to be the one who loved the most in a relationship. Just ask Mom.

  Speaking of Mom, Rachel would make time in the next few days to have a conversation with her about money.

  As Rachel continued finding new ways to showcase Ministry through her lens, she muttered and grumbled, likely appearing somewhat troubled to a passing bystander.

  When the tiny pinging sounded on her phone indicating she’d received a text message, Rachel debated whether to check it. But since her sister was obscenely and beautifully pregnant right now, she decided to take the risk to her heart. Last night was amazing.

  Rachel didn’t want to smile, but his words made her think about last night, and she grinned despite herself. Last night was amazing. But she would wait ten minutes before answering. He deserved that for the angst she was experiencing today.

  She clicked a shot of a tiny resident reaching up on his tiptoes to touch the bottom branch of the ginormous tree. Rachel managed to capture the awe in his expression. Her heart flipped. The perspective on this one was so compelling in an elementally human way. Rachel decided to do this one black and white. It was magazine-worthy. It was perfection.

  She approached the little guy’s mother, who’d been just a few feet away and showed her the photo.

  Tears filled the woman’s eyes upon seeing it and Rachel offered to send it to her.

  “It’s incredible. Oh, thank you. Are you a professional? Can I get you to take JJ’s picture?”

  “I’ll be taking Santa photos all week. But please don’t feel obliged. I just wanted you to see it and have a copy. Some shots are special. Your son is adorable, by the way.” Rachel winked at the toddler, who waved at her with his chubby fingers.

  “I don’t feel obliged. I want more. He’s growing so fast, and I was just told I can’t have any more children. He’s going to be my only one.” The woman teared up again. “I want to remember every moment. The picture you took today is special, and always will be. Thank you.”

  “My name’s Rachel Prudhomme. I work in town and do school photos, and freelance. Here’s my card.” Rachel handed over her business card.

  “I’m Lydia. Thank you. I can’t wait to set something up. We need family photos taken too. We’ve been planning to do them for awhile now. It’s great to know who to call. Do you have a studio or do you go wherever your clients want?”

  “I have a studio I can use for now, but I also do outdoor sittings and can come into your home if you prefer.”

  “Oh, that’s wonderful. I’ll call you soon.” Lydia carefully placed Rachel’s card into her wallet.

  “Great, Lydia It was nice meeting you both. I look forward to hearing from you,” Rachel said. “Bye, JJ.”

  Rachel
sent JJ’s photo to the email address Lydia had given her before she forgot. When she did so, she noticed the text from Nick again. Last night was amazing.

  What if she was told she couldn’t have children? Nick’s babies? She was heartbroken for Lydia, who she’d only just met.

  Rachel looked down at her phone and answered the text. How about we try it again tonight?

  His response was immediate. I get off at six. See you then. I’m cooking tonight.

  Then she remembered the event this evening. Tree decorating starts at six. I’m taking pictures. After?

  I’ll meet you there. We can grab pizza after. I’ll walk you home.

  It’s a date.

  So, it didn’t sound like he wasn’t interested in pursuing a relationship, but she’d offered to make changes, which meant to possibly relocate. She hadn’t been especially enthusiastic about that, but she’d offered. He hadn’t jumped on that, which made her think that maybe he wasn’t sure about his feelings yet. Then again, it hadn’t even been a month. She really should reel it in a little bit and adjust her expectations here.

  But he said he wanted to be with her.

  They really should take this one day—one night—at a time.

  Her mood lightened then, as she moved through town snapping away, finding people and things to shoot. Ministry at Christmastime was so much more that its decorations, but the lovely décor created a stunning backdrop for everything else it had to offer.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The days flew by in a blur for Nick. Fortunately for his patients he was good at his job, and no one noticed how distracted he’d been, even when he was on duty at the hospital. His overwhelming goal was how to make his relationship with Rachel work out—permanently. He was completely in love with her. Not just saying words kind of in love. The kind of heartsick, fourteen-year-old boy kind of love whose every moment is saturated with the girl of his dreams.

  If one of his childhood friends could see him now, they’d tell him how totally whipped he was, and Nick would likely just nod and agree with a big ole goofy grin.