Christmas in Silver Springs

by Brenda Novak

  She drew a deep breath as she grappled for calm and clarity. “Just tell me one thing.”

  “What?”

  “Did you sleep with that girl in Barcelona?”

  There was a slight pause. Then he said, “What does it really matter? You slept with Tobias just last night!”

  “But I’m not the one who left you brokenhearted with two kids. I’m not the one who suddenly reversed my decision and is now trying to get back together. You slept with her, didn’t you? After you started asking me for a second chance?”

  “You know how difficult relationships are. You can’t honestly tell me you expect to marry that dude I saw in the restaurant. You’re just angry and confused.”

  Axel had slept with the girl in Barcelona. Otherwise, he would’ve denied it. She’d known it; she could feel it whenever she saw that video. And it just made his whole attempt to get her back seem so insincere, so unreliable.

  Dropping her head into her hand, Harper sank onto the bed and stared at her feet instead of her own unhappy reflection. “I don’t think so,” she said stubbornly.

  “You don’t think...what?” he asked.

  “I’m not angry. At least, that’s not what I’m basing this decision on.”

  “Then what are you basing it on?”

  “Tobias makes me happier than you do.”

  There. It was out. She’d spoken her truth—identified the real reason she was holding back. She enjoyed being with Tobias more than she enjoyed being with Axel. Tobias was gentle and calm and willing to give. He cared what she was thinking and feeling. He wasn’t someone who drained the very lifeblood from her.

  “What about the girls?” Axel asked.

  “That’s the real problem,” she said. “They mean so much to me. I don’t want to do anything that might screw them up. But when I saw their worried faces tonight, I realized that I have to be on solid emotional ground to provide a firm foundation for them. That doesn’t have to interfere with or damage your relationship with them, though. I’ll always support you in being close to them, will let you talk to them or take them anytime it’s feasible for you. I know you’re a good father.”

  “Are you kidding me?” he cried. “I came all the way from Europe for this? To hear that you’ll let me take my own kids whenever I want?”

  “I’m sorry if you were expecting more,” she said.

  “It was a surprise! Are you saying I shouldn’t have gone to the trouble?”

  He obviously couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “I’m saying it’s over between us,” she said.

  Her words were met with stunned silence. He’d never dreamed she’d say something like that—take such a strong stand and mean it. She’d never dreamed she would, either, not really. But she felt so much better, as though a huge weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She wasn’t going back to Axel, wasn’t going to get embroiled in all the painful things they’d had to wade through before, especially toward the end. She was going to start fresh.

  And maybe her new life would include Tobias. She didn’t know whether it would—whether she’d be willing to leave Colorado to move here, or he’d be willing to leave Silver Springs to move there. They didn’t yet know each other well enough to make such a big decision. But either way, she was letting go of Axel completely and moving forward without him.

  “You must be out of your mind,” Axel said and hung up.

  Harper was convinced, just by how quickly the pressure on her heart had eased, that she was doing the right thing.

  But she supposed he needed time to get used to the idea.

  She set her phone aside so she could go to bed. But then she picked it up again. She hadn’t heard from Tobias, had no idea what he thought about what had happened at the restaurant. And she wanted to let him know that, at least for her, nothing had changed.

  I’m sorry about tonight, she wrote.

  His answer came almost immediately: Are you getting back with him?

  Instead of feeling miserable, like she’d been feeling a few minutes ago, she experienced a little flutter of excitement. No.

  Does he know that?

  She imagined Tobias’s voice, as if they were talking, and felt even better. He does now.

  How’d he take the news?

  He’s not happy.

  Where is he?

  He has a room at the Mission Inn.

  So he’s treating you okay? I don’t have to worry about you tonight?

  She smiled. Tobias was so protective. She’d seen the way he’d reacted—the intensity in his eyes—when Axel had nearly made her fall. Yes.

  Can you come over so we can talk?

  Not tonight. I’m exhausted, and tomorrow’s Christmas Eve. Let me focus on my family for now, make the holidays fun for my girls and get through these next few days while Axel’s here on my own, so there are no more problems. I just want you to know—

  She hesitated, unsure whether she should say what she’d been about to tell him. But then she decided there was no reason to hold back. It was the truth. I just want you to know that whatever the future holds... I’m hoping you’ll be part of my life.

  When he didn’t respond right away, she bit her lip. Maybe she’d assumed he was more serious about her than he was...

  No. When they were together it was almost magical. She couldn’t have misread their chemistry, the way he touched her, the way he looked at her. At the moment, what Tobias felt for her was the one thing she was convinced she could trust.

  Finally, his response appeared on her phone. Do you mean that?

  As she remembered their time in the bathtub last night, she wished she could go back to his place, peel off her clothes and climb into bed with him. She didn’t care if they made love—she just wanted to feel his warm body and soft skin against her own.

  But it was the holidays. Now was not the time to worry about what she wanted.

  Absolutely, she wrote.

  * * *

  Tobias thought his heart might burst by the time he reached the top of the ridge. He hadn’t started to train in earnest and yet he’d made it, difficult though it had been, carrying a hundred-pound pack. The Topatopa Mountains above Silver Springs didn’t feature many trails that were as difficult as what he’d face in Yosemite, and his pack was a lot more stable—as well as lighter—than it would be when carrying a human being, but he’d made decent time.

  It was a start. And he’d done well enough to build some confidence that he might be able to carry Atticus.

  He felt a surge of happiness as he gazed at the vista before him. He’d gone from seeing the world only through a six-inch slit—something you could barely call a window—while being caged in a cold, dank prison just five months ago to living in one of the most beautiful places on earth, and he was building a life here. A good one. He had a job he enjoyed. He had a sound mind and a strong body. His mother still wasn’t behaving as she should, but he had other family and friends who were normal and productive and supportive. Susan was even being nice to Maddox. And now there was Harper.

  How could he ask for more?

  He pulled out his phone to reread her message from last night. I just want you to know that whatever the future holds... I’m hoping you’ll be part of my life.

  He’d read her text no less than twenty times on the hike today. Whenever he got so fatigued he wasn’t sure he could continue, he’d take a second to read it again. Axel Devlin was in town, making a play to get her back, and yet she’d sent that message to him. He almost couldn’t believe it. Would his future include Harper?

  If so, he’d do everything he could to make sure she wasn’t unhappy a day in her life.

  He wasn’t expecting to get cell service out here, so he was surprised when he noticed that he had one bar.

  Was it a strong enough signal to place a call?

  He
found Atticus’s name in his contacts, just in case he might be able to get through.

  Sure enough, Jada’s brother answered. “Hello?”

  “Guess where I am?” Tobias said.

  “Where?”

  “Hines Peak.”

  “Nice! That’s the highest peak in the Topatopa Mountains, isn’t it? Have you seen any condors up there?”

  There was a 53,000-acre California condor sanctuary not far from where he stood, but humans weren’t allowed to go in it, and he hadn’t thought of bringing his binoculars. He’d stuffed his pack with just about everything else he could lay his hands on—none of it very useful, though, since he’d been concerned only with reaching a certain weight while having it all fit. “Nah, didn’t think to bring binoculars. Would’ve been smart.”

  “You wearing a pack?”

  “I am.”

  “How much weight are you carrying?”

  “A hundred pounds.”

  He whistled. “Was it tough?”

  It hadn’t been easy, but Tobias was so exhilarated that it didn’t seem too bad now that it was over. “It was...doable,” he hedged.

  “Would it be doable with another fifty pounds?”

  “I think so.” As good as he was feeling right now, he felt he could carry twice as much.

  “How long was the hike?”

  Tobias checked the watch Harper had given him. “From where I started? ’Bout eight miles.”

  “So today’s hike will be sixteen total?”

  “Around that.”

  “What was the elevation gain?”

  Again, he consulted his new watch. “Five thousand feet.”

  “From what I’ve read, Half Dome is only forty-eight hundred.”

  Tobias already knew that. It was one of the reasons he’d challenged himself to this particular climb—it was the closest hike to Half Dome he could get without driving a lot farther. “Half Dome is more difficult. More technical.” It was more dangerous, too, but he didn’t add that.

  “But it also offers better views.”

  He could hear the smile in Atticus’s voice. “This one seems pretty spectacular right now. But...yeah, I’d have to agree. Not only will you get to see Vernal and Nevada Falls when we do Half Dome, you’ll get a panoramic view of Yosemite Valley and the High Sierra.”

  “I can’t wait, man.”

  “You getting that GoPro you mentioned for Christmas tomorrow?”

  “I’ll treat myself to that once we get closer. I haven’t broken the news of our plan to my mother quite yet.”

  Tobias remembered the encounter he’d last had with Susan and her dramatic turnaround—she’d even brought him cookies. “Maybe you shouldn’t tell her.”

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t want to make her hate me all over again.”

  “You need to quit worrying about her.”

  Considering his position in Susan’s life, that wasn’t easy. He felt so bad for what he’d done. “Seriously, though. Maddox said she’s being a lot nicer to him. We don’t want to screw that up.”

  “Good point. It’s not as though she needs to know every little thing I do, anyway. I’ll just show her the video footage once we’ve done it.”

  “Perfect. That way even if she does get mad, Maddox and Jada will have had nearly six months to build a better relationship before we blow it for them.”

  “I’m an adult, Tobias. I can go on a hike if I want to.”

  It wasn’t quite that simple, but Tobias let it go. “Okay.”

  “So what are you doing tonight?” Atticus asked. “Are you coming to Maddox and Jada’s for dinner?”

  Maddox had invited him, but as soon as Tobias had learned that Susan would be there, he’d decided not to intrude. “No. I’ve got other plans.”

  “Like what?”

  “I told Maddox I’d take our mother out for dinner in LA so he wouldn’t have to have her over, either,” he said with a laugh.

  “Maybe I should go with you and your mother. I didn’t realize this Christmas it was all about letting Maddox, Jada and Maya hang out with my mother on their own.”

  “No, you’re good. Susan would want you there. So would everyone else. I’m just trying to make it as easy for them and as pleasant for your mother as possible. A drunk or high Jill wouldn’t add anything to the party.”

  “So you’re taking one for the team,” he joked.

  “I guess so.”

  “That sucks. This is your first Christmas out of the joint. I feel bad that you’re not going to be around your brother’s family because of my mother.”

  “I don’t mind. It’s the least I can do.”

  “What about tomorrow? What are your plans for Christmas Day?”

  “I’m playing it by ear. I’ll stop by Maddox and Jada’s at some point and exchange gifts.” Since Uriah was planning to spend Christmas with Carl, Tobias hadn’t made any plans with him. But he didn’t mind being alone. He was too optimistic about Harper to let anything else bother him. Besides, he’d spent much worse holidays in prison. “Have a great Christmas.”

  “You, too. I’m excited about what we’ve got planned for my birthday. It’s really cool of you, man.”

  “No problem.”

  After Tobias hit the end button, he hauled in a deep breath of fresh air and angled his face up to the sun—enjoying being present in the moment. Then he started back. He couldn’t waste a lot of time. He had to drive to LA to take his mother to dinner and, on the way, he planned to buy a few Christmas gifts, including one for Harper.

  * * *

  “Who is it?”

  Setting his phone on the table, Tobias looked up at his mother. He’d been trying not to allow himself to be distracted. He hated how these days everyone was constantly checking one electronic device or another. That had been quite a culture shock for him when he was released from prison—how much everyone relied on smartphones. But as time went by, he felt himself getting swept away by the appeal of the new electronics, too.

  “Sorry,” he said, even though she’d checked her phone and responded to a few texts herself since they’d sat down. “That was Maddox.”

  “What’d he say?”

  “Hopes I made it safely. Says to be careful driving home tonight—there’ll be a lot of drunk drivers on the road. And he wishes we were both there.”

  Jill wrinkled her nose in distaste. “With that monster Susan?”

  “It’s not fair to call her a monster, Mom,” he said. “Not after what she’s been through.”

  “She needs to let it go already.” She frowned. “That was thirteen years ago.”

  Tobias felt his spine stiffen. Even when Jill was trying to be supportive, she managed to irritate him. As far as he was concerned, she had to be missing a sensitivity gene to say anything about Susan. But she was on her third glass of wine, so that probably explained it. When he’d suggested, after the second glass, that she stop, she’d scowled at him and said, “Oh, my God. Don’t try to tell me what to do tonight. It’s Christmas.”

  He’d dropped it since he was driving, he didn’t want her to make a scene in the restaurant and she’d get drunk after he left regardless; so it probably wasn’t that big a deal that she was starting while she was with him.

  “She’s treated Maddox like a doormat ever since he married Jada,” she complained.

  Tobias took another bite of his vegetable delight.

  “And although I don’t want to discuss it, we both know why. At least she’s being nicer now,” he added, trying to keep the conversation focused on the positive.

  “I wonder why,” she mused, seemingly sincere in her puzzlement. “The turnaround was so sudden.”

  Tobias hadn’t told anyone, except Maddox and Jada, that he’d visited Susan’s store or that she’d brought him cookies afterw
ard as if something he’d said had finally gotten through to her. He’d thought it might embarrass her after all the terrible things she’d said about him. She had a lot of pride, and he was willing to respect that. As long as she continued to treat Maddox more kindly, he was going to stay out of her way and hope that nothing interfered with how things were going. “It’s Christmas Eve,” he pointed out. “The first Christmas I’ve been able to spend with my family since I was seventeen. Do we have to talk about Susan?”

  “No, of course not. Especially when you seem to be doing so well. What’s been happening in your life lately? How’s work?”

  He thought of the beauty of his hike this morning, the goal he’d set for himself with Atticus, how much he enjoyed his job and respected his employer, how relieved he was that Susan’s heart seemed to be softening—and the last text he’d received from Harper. “It’s good. I feel great.”

  “I’m so glad you’re finally out of prison. Just think, last year we couldn’t do this.”

  Of course she’d think it was great to have him out of prison. Now she had someone else she could turn to for help besides Maddox.

  Tobias hated to be that cynical, but if she’d missed him as much as she claimed, wouldn’t she have come to visit him more often? It was a five-hour drive from LA to where he’d been incarcerated, and her car wasn’t always reliable, but he knew of several instances when she could’ve come with Maddox but begged off.

  He had a sneaking suspicion that at least some of those instances were about going out with friends to get high or drunk—she couldn’t miss an opportunity like that, especially thirteen years ago. And yet those were the years when he’d needed her most. “I’m glad those days are over, too.”

  She pushed her cashew chicken around her plate. She never seemed to eat much, was always more interested in what filled her glass. “I’ll never forget the day I got the call that you’d been stabbed in that place,” she said, her smile disappearing.