by Claire Fogel
“Right. If Joey hadn’t grabbed my arm and threatened me, I might not have been able to use it. I think Vox is a kind of hypnosis.”
“Okay, understood. That was awesome, Cara. But who is Nick, and why does he want to return your knife? What’s going on with those guys?”
I described what happened when Sean and I had seen Joey with Randi’s car, and what happened when Nick threatened Sean with a knife. She was shocked when I told her how Randi looked when she arrived at my house later that day.
“Oh, that poor girl. So that’s why she’s back in Thornewood now. As far as I know, she hasn’t told anyone why her dad let her move back here.”
“Would you, if your boyfriend turned out to be a physically abusive drug dealer?”
“Of course not, Cara. That whole thing must seem like a nightmare for Randi. Now I understand why she’s been telling the girls what a great friend you’ve been.”
She grinned. “Of course, I’ve known that for years! But from now on, if I have to go into that part of town, I want you with me.”
“No problem!”
She looked around. “Well, since we’re in front of The Grille . . .”
I finally had to laugh. The perfect antidote to stress: Burgers and milkshakes.
But I knew I’d be looking over my shoulder for Nick Romanov for the foreseeable future.
Our school’s holiday party was the Friday before Christmas, the last day of school before our Christmas vacation. Since I’d agreed to go to the party with Sean, he’d been in a great mood all week. He’d even called me every night the way he used to.
I enjoyed resuming my late night talks with Sean, and he had a lot to do with my new and improved mood. I think my parents were ready to pin a medal on him. They hadn’t said anything about the gloom I’d been projecting. They’d been very patient with me.
Sean was thrilled when I told him about Storm and begged me to introduce him to my new grey before the horses had to return to Elvenwood for the winter. I promised to take him to my father’s camp on Saturday, the day after the Christmas party. I think he was more excited about that than he was about the party.
But either way, his good mood was rubbing off on me, and I think everyone was grateful.
Apparently, Amy and I weren’t the only ones who decided to go with the 1950’s theme. When I opened the door to Sean, I was surprised to find a James Dean lookalike standing on my front porch. He’d slicked back his blond hair and was wearing a red windbreaker jacket over a white t-shirt and dark jeans. I had always thought the actor James Dean was gorgeous, when he was alive sixty years ago, but I thought Sean was even better looking. Amy was going to love the way he’d dressed.
We had planned to meet Amy and Kevin at the restaurant. Main Street was completely lined with cars; the Pizza Palace had no parking lot. We decided to park behind Mom’s bookstore. That was about as close as we’d be able to get to the restaurant. I didn’t mind walking a few blocks. It was a beautiful, clear night with temperatures only in the forties. Winter hadn’t arrived yet, much to my relief.
As we walked down Main Street, Sean said, “I like your retro outfit. It’s kinda tight, you know, but very sexy.” He was grinning. I rolled my eyes.
The sign on the restaurant’s front door read, “Closed for Private Party.” When we walked in, there were Christmas decorations everywhere, even on the bar, which, according to a sign, would only be serving root beer.
We found Amy and Kevin in one of the red vinyl booths near the jukebox in the dining room. Judging by the crowd of kids that had already arrived, Kevin and Amy must have come really early in order to grab one of the prized booths.
At the rear of the dining room was a door I’d never noticed before. It was open to a large banquet hall, which was now full of chairs, tables, Christmas decorations and at least a hundred teenagers. The mouth-watering smell of pizza filled both rooms.
When we reached Amy and Kevin’s table, my mouth dropped open. I had already seen Amy’s 50’s outfit, but Kevin looked amazing. I knew Amy must have worked on his hair, taming his curls into a greased-back ducktail. He was wearing a white t-shirt with rolled-up sleeves, jeans and motorcycle boots, and there was a black leather motorcycle jacket hanging from the back of the booth.
I couldn’t help laughing. “Kev, you look like you walked out of ‘Grease!’ This must have been Amy’s idea, right?”
He nodded, an embarrassed smile on his face. “Yeah, Amy can be extremely persuasive.”
We sat down as four frosty mugs of root beer were set on our table and the waiter took our pizza orders. He also informed us that the root beer would be on the house for the night.
Our pizzas were delivered quickly. The owner must have hired extra help for our party because there were servers dashing about, efficiently delivering pizzas and root beer in both rooms. There were already couples dancing to the oldies playing on the jukebox, and we could see we weren’t the only ones who’d dressed for the 50’s era.
As we finished eating, I looked up and was surprised to see Dion and Randi dancing.
Amy said, “They look great together, don’t they? Cara, did you know they were dating?”
“No, Randi just said she had a date for the party, but she didn’t say who it was with.”
Randi looked over and waved at us. Dion grinned and waved us over.
Smiling, Sean took my hand and asked, “Ready?”
“Sure.” We stood up and joined the crowd on the dance floor. I looked back at Amy and Kevin. Kevin was, of course, still eating. I think he was working on his second pie. Amy was looking a little impatient, but she knew better than to try to separate Kevin from his food. It was a well-known fact that Kevin had a hollow leg.
We all danced a lot that night, only stopping for root beer breaks. Everyone seemed to be enjoying the old Rock ‘n Roll records on the jukebox. We traded partners frequently, and I danced with Dion, Kevin, Sandy’s boyfriend Danny, and Matt, who I’d always liked despite his chronic foot-in-mouth disorder.
Matt hadn’t changed. When he was finally able to get his eyes off my chest, he said, “I think I understand why Sean’s so crazy about you, Cara.”
I rolled my eyes. “Thanks, Matt.” I vowed to leave the tight sweater in my closet in the future.
Amy and Kevin had been close enough to overhear that exchange, and Kevin had pushed her face into his shoulder to stifle her giggles. Fortunately, Sean rescued me a minute later.
Around ten o’clock, most of the younger kids left, their parents double-parked outside to take them home. The lights in the dining room were dimmed, and the atmosphere became noticeably more romantic.
The records being played now were mostly ballads. Sean and I got up to dance and didn’t sit down again. “Sincerely,” “Earth Angel,” “Eddie my Love,” “Put Your Head on My Shoulder,” “Good Night My Love,” and my mother’s favorite, “In the Still of the Night.”
I had to keep reminding myself that it wasn’t right to take advantage of Sean, but dancing close to him, his arms around me, and the sandalwood cologne I’d always liked—well, there were times when I wanted to toss those good intentions out the window.
I’m not sure why, but that night I really needed to be held by a young man who cared for me and wasn’t afraid to say so. I needed Sean. There were so many things about him that I admired, respected, and just plain liked.
When he drove me home and kissed me good night, I responded with more warmth than I should have; I knew that. But I liked kissing Sean, even if the earth didn’t move under my feet. Maybe I’d have to learn not to wish for the unattainable. Maybe dreams were just that . . . dreams.
The next morning Sean arrived at ten o’clock. He was looking forward to meeting Storm at my father’s camp, and I couldn’t wait to introduce them.
As we walked through the backyard and into the woods, he asked, “I was wondering how you manage to get on and off your new grey. Pigeon was the perfect size for you, wasn’t she?”
/> I smiled. “Yeah, she was. But Storm has some skills you won’t believe.”
After we crossed the stream, Sean took my hand, squeezing it gently, and grinned at me.
I was afraid last night had convinced him we were back together. I didn’t have the heart to tell him any different.
My father wasn’t in camp when we arrived, but I saw Gabriel taking care of the horses. He wore a big grin.
“Hey, Cara, Sean, good to see you. Your father’s not here, Cara. Will I do?”
I gave him a hug and Sean grinned at his former bodyguard.
“I wanted to show Sean my new grey, Gabe. And maybe we could take a ride while we’re here.”
Grinning, Gabe said, “I’ll get your grey, Sean; prepare to be surprised!”
When he led Storm and Cloud back to us, Cloud immediately nuzzled Sean, clearly happy to see him again. Sean stroked her neck and whispered to her. She whinnied in delight. I snorted. Typical female.
Storm trotted up to me, resting his nose on my head and snickering. I told him how glad I was to see him and he nodded his big head, clearly agreeing with me.
Laughing, I said, “Storm knows how much I like him. I think he’s a little conceited.” The dark gray horse nodded again.
Gabe and Sean were laughing at Storm’s method of communicating with me. He seemed to enjoy their laughter.
Gabe saddled both greys for us. I walked up to Storm, stroked his nose, and said, “Down.” He folded all four legs and lowered himself to the ground, looking up at me and snickering.
Sean looked amazed. “Wow. I’ve never seen a horse do that!”
I smiled and climbed on Storm’s back. Once I was situated, he unfolded his legs and stood, whinnying and looking proud of himself. “Good job, Storm,” I whispered.
Grinning, Sean shook his head, mounted Cloud and said, “I’ll follow you.”
The greys trotted along the path, eventually veering off and following a path only they could see. I looked over my shoulder at Sean who was smiling. “This is an adventure, right?” he asked.
“Yeah. I think Storm knows every square inch of the forest. He knows where he’s going, even if we don’t. Might as well relax and enjoy the ride.”
The December air was crisp and cool, not the frigid, icy air common this time of year. There were still a few red-gold leaves on the trees, although most of their leaves had fallen. I inhaled the sharp tang of fallen leaves and felt the cool wind playing with my long hair, grateful for winter’s delay.
I sighed. I knew there wouldn’t be much more riding so close to Christmas.
The greys took us all over Blackthorne Forest until they seemed ready to return to camp. As the horses trotted into camp, I realized I was shivering in my denim jacket. The temperature had dropped dramatically while we were in the woods.
Sean climbed down from Cloud, and Storm folded his legs and sat on the ground while I dismounted. I thanked him for a lovely ride, stroking his neck, and he stood, raising his head and whinnying. Cloud joined him, moving closer and snorting. When I looked up, I realized why.
It was snowing.
Sean and I hadn’t dressed for snow, so we said goodbye to Gabe and the greys and jogged through the woods back to my house, arriving laughing and out of breath.
He shrugged off his snow-covered jacket and sat down at the kitchen table, rubbing his cold hands together.
“I think we need coffee,” I said, as I filled the coffeemaker and started a fresh pot.
I tossed my lightweight jacket on a chair, pulled on Mom’s old sweater from the back of the rocking chair and sat down at the table with him.
Smiling, he said, “Well, that was a surprise. Looks like we’ll have a white Christmas.”
My lack of enthusiasm was obvious.
“You really don’t like winter or snow, do you?” he asked.
“Nope. I don’t like being cold, having the wind turn me into a popsicle, slipping on ice, or being bundled up in three layers of clothing. It makes me look like the Michelin Man,” I grumbled.
He laughed. “You don’t know what you’re missing. Ice skating, Hockey, Skiing, Sledding, there’s so much to do!”
“Well, you can enjoy it. I’ll stay home where it’s warm.”
I poured our coffee, got out cream and sugar, and sat down. Time to change the subject. I really hated cold weather.
I asked, “Will you be home with your family for Christmas?”
“I think so. Mom hasn’t said anything about another trip to Boston, thankfully. I forgot to tell you. I gave my parents the picture you drew for their anniversary. I’d had it framed. They really loved it and wanted me to thank you.”
“I’m glad they liked it.” I smiled. “I had a great model.”
He rolled his eyes, blushing.
“Uh, Cara, I didn’t know if I’d see you again before Christmas. I’ve got something out in the car for you.” He stood, throwing his jacket on. “Be right back.”
When he ran back in, his dark blond hair was already covered with snow. Laughing, I threw him a towel. After he dried his hair, he handed me a small silver box with a big bow on top.
“I hope you like it, Cara. I had it made for you.” There was so much love in his eyes, I had to look away.
“You don’t want me to wait ‘til Christmas to open it?”
“No. Please open it while I’m here.”
I took a deep breath and lifted the lid of the small box. On a delicate silver chain, there was a beautifully fashioned horse inside a narrow silver circle, like an open pendant. I loved it. I immediately fastened it around my neck.
“Sean, it’s beautiful. How does it look?”
His voice was soft. “Perfect. Just like you.”
I looked up into his warm brown eyes. “Thank you. I love it.”
He got up, came around the table to my chair and bent down. “I love you.” He kissed me, smiling.
Two could play this game. “Hang on, I have something for you too.” I ran up to my bedroom and came back downstairs with a gift bag, stuffed with tissue paper.
I handed the bag to him and he sat down next to me.
Grinning, he said, “Ah, a bag full of paper. Just what I needed.”
“Dig a little deeper please.”
Reaching in, he brought out a white cable knit crew neck sweater I’d picked out for him.
“Whoa. This is really nice,” he said, holding the sweater up against his chest.
“I think it’ll fit. Are you sure you like it? I can always exchange it, you know.”
“Cara, it’s a great sweater. Really. I like it.”
He laughed, clearly pleased. Leaning forward, he kissed me again, putting his hands on either side of my face.
Holding my face that way triggered a memory so painful, I couldn’t breathe for a few seconds. I gasped, tears filling my eyes.
He let go, looking surprised and worried. “What’s wrong? What did I do?”
I took a deep breath, desperately trying to control myself and hold back the tears.
“Nothing’s wrong. I’m okay. Really.”
He didn’t look convinced. He looked upset.
“Cara, you looked like I’d just hurt you. It’s not okay.”
I tried to laugh. “Pay no attention to me. I just got over-emotional for a minute. The holidays, I guess.”
He wrapped his hands around mine. His voice was soft. “I’d never hurt you. I hope you know that. You’re everything to me.”
I just nodded, unable to look him in the eye.
Squeezing my hands, he took a deep breath. “Cara, I know you don’t feel the same way I do. But I think you’re attracted to me, aren’t you?”
I took a deep breath too and nodded again, looking up at him.
He smiled, kissed me again and whispered, “Good. Because I’m not giving up.”
He turned to look out the window. “Hey, it’s still coming down. As much as I’d like to stay, I should get the car home before the roads get any wor
se.”
Standing, he pulled me out of my chair and wrapped his arms around me, holding me close, kissing my neck, and sending goose bumps down my body.
“You feel so good,” he whispered. His lips traveled from my neck to my face; he left tiny kisses all over my face, ending at my lips. He felt good to me too, and I couldn’t help kissing him back, running my hands through his thick hair.
He was right. I was attracted to him. What girl wouldn’t be?
But as someone once pointed out to me, being attracted to someone wasn’t the same as being in love.
A few heart-pounding minutes later, I walked him to the front door, got one last hug, and watched him jog carefully through the snow to his car, which was already covered in at least two inches of snow. Brushing the snow from his windows quickly, he jumped into the car and started it. He turned his lights on, and pulled away, with a short beep of the horn.
After I watched his car move slowly down the block, I shut the door and walked back into the kitchen, wrapping my arms around myself to warm up.
The snow continued all day, all night, and into the next day. I was glad I’d finished my Christmas shopping so I wouldn’t have to go out in the cold, icy mess. Yuck.
I still hated shopping, so I was thrilled I’d been able to get it all done downtown at Van Horn’s, Thornewood’s only department store. A makeup collection for Amy and a dark green crew neck sweater for Kevin that I thought would bring out the green in his hazel eyes. Not that I’d tell him that, of course.
I’d made a few more gifts as well. I’d painted a small watercolor landscape of the evergreen trees I could see from my bedroom window for Miss Burrows, my Art teacher. For my parents, I’d painted a portrait of the two of them, the way I remembered them best, sitting at the kitchen table, smiling at each other, my father leaning toward Mom.
They looked like two people in love, happy being together. The way they were always meant to be.
Usually, during the holidays, Kevin, Amy, and I would be spending time with each other, in one house or another, but not this year. Thanks to the weather, we kept in touch by phone right up until Christmas Eve, when it finally stopped snowing. All the enthusiasm about a white Christmas was completely lost on me.
