Christmas at the Graff

by Kaylie Newell

  She blushed furiously. Obviously, he hadn’t played it cool, but he didn’t care. He watched her walk down the staircase, her red strappy heels delicate and sexy on her feet. She trailed a hand along the railing, probably so she wouldn’t fall, but she somehow made it look provocative, like she was stroking the wood with her fingertips.

  He swallowed hard. When she finally reached him, he bent to breathe in her warm, flowery scent.

  “My God. Are you trying to make every guy here want to take you to bed?”

  “No. Just you.”

  He pressed his lips to her neck, her skin soft and powdery. “Mission accomplished.”

  “You’re not looking too shabby, either,” she said, running her hands down his tie and across his chest.

  It took a lot to get him out of his Patagonia pullovers, but he was suddenly glad he’d worn something nicer than last year. Her dress required it.

  Couples walked past, arm in arm. Everyone was smiling, laughing, and greeting them with warm hellos. Possibly tipsy hellos. But all EJ had eyes for was Jemma. It was like he’d stepped into a different reality where everything was magnified. Her beauty, his pulse, the feeling of warmth growing inside his chest. Instinctively, he wanted to fight it. To bow up and resist what was happening to him, but it was like swimming upstream. For the first time in his life, he wondered what it would be like to relax and let the current carry him where it wanted.

  She smoothed her hands down her dress, and he noticed for the first time that her nails were painted to match.

  “My dad said he’s coming. He’s asking a friend to drive and walk him in. I couldn’t talk him out of it.” She frowned. “I’m worried.”

  “He’ll be okay.” But truthfully, EJ worried, too. Joe’s recovery was going remarkably well, but coming out tonight seemed to be tempting fate. He knew it hadn’t been part of the plan, that Joe had decided on it last minute, so EJ hadn’t had a chance to advise against it. But it wouldn’t have mattered anyway. Joe usually did what he wanted, regardless. He was one of the most stubborn people alive. At least he wouldn’t be by himself, though. EJ wouldn’t have allowed it.

  “I’m sure you’re right.” But she didn’t sound convinced. She forced a smile and tilted her head back to look at him. “Are you ready for this? Think we’ll take The Java Café?”

  “They’ll be eating our dust in t-minus fifteen minutes.”

  “Should we go in? I don’t want to be late, and Dad will know where to find us.”

  EJ nodded, but took one more look out the big windows by the front door. Snowflakes were starting to swirl against the glass. It wouldn’t be long before it would accumulate. And then it really would be dangerous out there. Not just for Joe, but for everyone else driving home.

  He offered his arm to Jemma, who took it and immediately moved into his side.

  “Let’s go,” he said. But he couldn’t shake the heavy feeling that had settled on his shoulders.

  Jemma sat next to EJ in the middle of the crowd, holding a fizzy glass of champagne that was already making her feel pleasantly lightheaded. The Christmas trees twinkled around them, showing off in their moment splendor. The auctioneer hadn’t wasted any time getting down to the nitty-gritty. Java Café’s tree had been auctioned off only a few minutes earlier, snagging an impressive amount for the hospital. The most of the night so far, but their sweet little tree was next, and Jemma found herself cheering for it internally like a crazed football fan.

  Still, she kept turning around to look at the doors of the ballroom. Joe hadn’t come in yet, and that officially made him late. She dug her phone out of her clutch to check for a missed text, but nothing.

  EJ looked over.

  “No Dad yet,” she whispered.

  “I’m sure he’s fine. He’ll be here.” But his expression said otherwise, and her belly curled into a ball.

  The auctioneer clapped for the last tree, with the crowd joining in.

  “That’s two-thousand dollars for Marietta General, folks! Let’s hear it for Mr. and Mrs. Ted Williams who’ll be showing off this gem in their living room this year.”

  There were whistles and cheers, and a feeling of festive happiness that swept the entire ballroom.

  Jemma shifted in her seat as EJ leaned over and kissed her shoulder. He could sense her nerves. She didn’t know why she was so anxious. It wasn’t like she knew if being on time was even a habit of her father’s. But something didn’t feel right. Something she couldn’t put her finger on.

  “We’re next,” he said, close to her ear. “Hang on to your Rudolf undies.”

  Right then, her phone vibrated from inside her clutch. She dug it out and swiped open the screen to see a text from Joe. Jemma’s pulse skipped as she read it.

  Still home, not feeling well. Calling doc. Please don’t worry.

  The auctioneer was talking one-hundred miles an hour. All around her, people held up their numbers in the air.

  “We’re starting at five-hundred dollars, folks! Five-hundred. Do I hear a five-fifty?”

  A woman sitting a few feet away waved her number, her rings sparkling.

  “We have five-fifty! This little tree’s pulling double duty, ladies and gentleman. Not only will all the funds go to the hospital, but there are some special dogs and cats that’ll sure appreciate the attention, I can tell you that.”

  The crowd let out a collective aww...

  Jemma looked over at EJ, who was reading the text with his jaw clenched.

  “Do I hear six-hundred? We’ve got six-hundred, seven-hundred, shall we bump it up to eight? We’ve got eight-hundred, folks. Now this is how we say merry Christmas in Marietta!”

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’ve got to go.”

  He put a hand on her thigh. “Not in this weather, you don’t.”

  “Then I’ll call a cab.”

  “That’s ridiculous. I’m driving.”

  “But the auction...”

  “It’ll go on without us. Come on.”

  He took her hand and helped her up. Which was good because her knees had gone weak.

  Together, they walked quickly toward the back while the auctioneer announced they’d reached the seventeen-hundred dollar mark. People were still holding up their numbers, competing for the squat little tree that tugged on their heartstrings. Jemma never knew so many people could afford something like this, but ranching around here was fairly lucrative. And the locals as a whole were so nice, so eager to take care of their own, that the generosity didn’t surprise her.

  They passed Elsie, who gave them a questioning look before EJ pulled open the heavy ballroom door that led to the lobby.

  Not waiting for it to close behind them, Jemma dialed Joe’s number, heading toward the front doors of the Graff with EJ beside her.

  On the other end of the line, the phone rang and rang, with no answer. His voice mail finally kicked on and she forced herself to leave a simple message asking him to call back, but her voice wavered at the end.

  EJ stepped ahead of her and opened the front door that led outside. It was snowing heavily now, with a few inches already accumulated on the streets.

  She breathed in the icy air and pulled her shawl around her shoulders. “He just told me the other day about his heart. He’s been having heart problems.”

  EJ nodded, holding her hand as he led her to his Jeep. She suspected he might already have an idea, but what was he supposed to have said? It was a painful reminder that when it was all said and done, they barely knew each other. Jemma was supposed to leave after this, and he would go back to his life from before. It was a cruel punch to her already-quivering gut.

  She was tired of always having to say goodbye to the things she wanted the most. Or worse still, having to pretend she didn’t want them in the first place.

  What she really should’ve said on that voice mail was that she loved her dad, and she needed him to be okay. For a lot of reasons, but mainly because she loved him.

  She squeezed
EJ’s hand, stepping carefully through the snow. It seeped into her heels and numbed her toes. Snowflakes stuck to her eyelashes and fell like whispered raindrops on the back of her neck. EJ pulled her close, wrapping his arm around her and shielding her from the worst of it.

  “He’ll be okay, Jemma.”

  But even EJ’s voice, usually so calm and reassuring, held a note she didn’t like.

  She brought her phone out again and dialed Joe’s number. No answer. Wiping the snowflakes away from the screen, she sent a text telling him they were on their way.

  The roads had gone from bad to worse in just the span of a few minutes. When they finally reached the Jeep, EJ had to wipe the accumulation off the door before he could unlock it. Jemma shivered uncontrollably as she climbed in, shaking her hair out as best she could.

  EJ got in beside her and started the engine, which roared to life in the delicate silence.

  She looked over, her teeth clicking together. “Do you think he had to call an ambulance?”

  “I don’t know,” he said, turning on the wipers. “But if he did, I know they’d get there fast. Marietta General is small, but one of the best around.”

  They pulled onto the road, which was already covered in a thick blanket of snow. She looked over at EJ again, but he didn’t look back. His face was illuminated momentarily as they passed underneath a streetlight, and his jaw clenched in concentration.

  Normally, she could make it to Joe’s house from the Graff in only a few minutes, but it’d take longer tonight. There weren’t many cars out, but every now and then, they’d pass one, the headlights cutting through the falling snow, and the tires making tracks that filled almost instantly with powder.

  Jemma sat forward, straining to see ahead. Her heart beat steadily, rapidly, inside her chest, her breaths coming shallow and uneven.

  Picking up her phone, she tried calling again as EJ turned on the heat and directed a vent toward her. No answer. The silence tore at her nerves, shredding them in a way that nothing had in a while. She worried for her dad, for their tender new relationship. For Justine, who hadn’t had a chance to come to terms with what he’d done yet.

  When EJ finally spotted Joe’s street and turned onto it, she felt warm tears making their way down her cheeks. EJ didn’t say anything, just reached out and held her hand.

  “You know,” he said. “I think I finally realized something tonight that I thought I had squared away before.”

  “What’s that?”

  “It’s cliché.”

  The Jeep rocked over a small snowbank in the road, and she squeezed his hand harder.

  “I’ve been taking things for granted,” he said.

  She looked over again, this time studying his profile. His brows were furrowed, his lips drawn into a hard line.

  “You? It doesn’t seem like you take anything for granted.”

  His jaw muscles tightened. Swirling snow fell against the windshield so fast the wipers were having trouble keeping it clear.

  “I fill my life up with stuff,” EJ said evenly. “Snowboarding, biking, hiking, rafting, you name it. But that’s different than actually looking at what I have...” He paused and glanced over. “Or could have, and being thankful for it.”

  Her throat ached. He’d summed up nearly everything she’d been feeling these last few weeks, but hadn’t been able to articulate. Or maybe she’d been afraid to articulate it. Because if she said those things out loud, the possibility of losing them was even scarier.

  The Jeep made its way down Joe’s street, and they were finally able to see his house through the falling snow. No ambulance sat out front, no flashing red and blue lights cut through the darkness. Jemma didn’t know if that made her feel better or worse.

  She unbuckled her seat belt as EJ pulled up to the curb, the snow crunching underneath their tires.

  She opened the door, and the frigid mountain air took her breath away. The snow fell so thickly against her face that she had to shield her eyes as she made her way onto the driveway.

  “Careful. There’s ice underneath.” EJ pulled her close and walked her to the entryway where she managed to fish her dad’s key out with trembling fingers.

  A movement in the window caught Jemma’s eye, and she turned to see Ethel watching them through a slit in the curtains.

  The deadbolt stuck at first, but after a few tries, they got the door open and pushed their way inside.

  “Dad?”

  Lights glowed from the kitchen and living room, but as they wound their way through the house, they didn’t see Joe.

  “Dad?”

  “Joe? Where are you, buddy?”

  Jemma stared down the hallway, which, unlike the rest of the place, was dark and ominous. Joe’s bedroom sat at the end of it, the door ajar. Either he wasn’t in there, or he wasn’t able to answer.

  EJ came up behind her. “He probably got a ride to the hospital. I’m sure he’s fine, but stay here while I check, okay?”

  He tried walking past, but she grabbed his arm before he could take another step. “No. I’m coming with you.”

  Ethel darted between their feet, nothing but a little blur. She disappeared down the hall and into the bedroom, her soft mews the only thing audible from the other side of the wall.

  Taking a shaky breath, Jemma followed.

  EJ pushed the door open and her heart, which had been beating so fast a second before, slowed to a dull, lifeless tick.

  There, at their feet, lay Joe. His telephone in his outstretched hand and his face turned into the carpet.

  “Dad!”

  Jemma sank to her knees and shook him, but he didn’t respond.

  EJ pushed her gently aside and rolled Joe onto his back to check for a pulse.

  “Call 9-1-1,” he said.

  She stared at her father’s lifeless body through a haze of tears.

  “Jemma,” EJ said, forcefully this time. “Call 9-1-1 now.”

  The fog that had threatened to swallow her up receded enough so she understood the words. 9-1-1. Emergency. They needed an ambulance.

  She dialed the numbers with hands that barely cooperated, while EJ tilted Joe’s head back and began breathing into his mouth. Her sweet dad. His neatly combed hair, his red collared shirt that he’d no doubt chosen for the auction. His wrinkled skin, now gray and sallow.

  The dispatcher answered, and she watched numbly as EJ began chest compressions.

  “9-1-1, what’s your emergency?”

  “We’re at sixteen twenty Sequoia Way...”

  Her childhood flashed in front of her eyes. All the joy, all the pain, all the days without her parents whom she loved dearly, but who had turned out to be flawed and complicated and intricate in ways her teenage self could never have imagined. But she realized now that her love for them was without an ounce of regret. It was unconditional, despite what conditions she thought she’d placed on it before. It was the pure affection of an adoring child, and she couldn’t accept the thought that after tonight, it might not have an outlet anymore. She might be an orphan.

  Tears dripped from her chin to the carpet as EJ’s voice reverberated in her ears. One, two, three, four...

  She licked the salt from her lips and blinked at the image unfolding in front of her.

  “Hello?” the dispatcher repeated.

  The storm continued raging outside, oblivious to her slowly breaking heart.

  “I think my dad’s dying,” she said. “Please hurry.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Jemma sat with her hands folded in her lap. A TV played in the waiting room, but she wasn’t sure what was on. She’d been staring into space for the last few hours, EJ nudging her every now and then, probably to make sure she was still breathing.

  “You need to eat,” he said now. “You’re not going to do anyone any good if you pass out.”

  She looked over, felt a surge of warmth, and smiled when he put his hand on her thigh.

  “I don’t think I can,” she said.
>
  “Will you try? I’ll get some coffee, maybe a bagel? Does that sound good?”

  Nothing sounded good. She looked over at a small, tabletop Christmas tree in the corner where a little girl in pajamas stood touching the ornaments. Her mother walked up and told her no softly, but she kept staring up at it in wonder.

  Jemma swallowed the stubborn lump in her throat. But no matter how much she swallowed, it kept coming back, like the Ghost of Christmas Past.

  Nodding, she looked down at her hands. Pale and lifeless, where they’d been so flushed and soft the night before. The auction already seemed like a lifetime away now. She didn’t even know how their little animal shelter tree had done yet. Hadn’t had the wherewithal to ask. It was two am. The ballroom would be empty now, all the couples just a fleeting memory, along with traces of confetti and streamers.

  “I’ll be right back,” EJ said, looking at her as if she might fall over where she sat. He was so sweet. Hadn’t left her side the entire time. She was falling deeper and deeper in love with every passing hour. That should’ve scared her. But she found that she just wanted to surrender and let it happen. She might walk away battered and bruised, but at least she’d have a story to tell at future book clubs. That time she fell for the sexy snowboarder who ended up showing her how fun life could be if she let it. Her heart twisted painfully at the thought.

  “Okay.”

  She watched him get up and go, his frame dwarfing a nurse who passed. The nurse, dressed in pink scrubs, scanned the room, and Jemma’s stomach tightened. They’d been waiting for word on her dad for what seemed like forever. He’d been rushed into emergency heart surgery, and all she knew was that it was bad. He hadn’t been breathing when the ambulance arrived, but EJ had managed to get a pulse. She knew that he’d probably saved Joe’s life. The rest would be up to the team of doctors and surgeons at Marietta General. The silver lining, if there was one, was that the hospital was exceptional.