One Bright Christmas

by Katherine Spencer

  She climbed out of the car and flipped up the collar of her black wool coat. The style was sleek and figure-flattering, especially when worn with high boots. As she slung her big striped scarf around her neck, she found Cole smiling at her.

  He offered his hand, and it seemed the most natural thing in the world to take it. “Off we go, then. Which way? You choose.”

  There were shops in both directions, and Lauren hadn’t been to Newburyport in a while. The feeling of Cole’s strong, warm hand entwined with hers was also very distracting. She pointed to the left, totally unsure of what they might find. They fell into step together and walked forward.

  It had been a good guess. She quickly noticed the perfect gift for her sister Amanda. In a shop window hung a long black velvet dress with a V-neck, trimmed with black satin piping.

  “My sister Amanda would love that dress,” she said. “She’s a musician and plays the cello in an orchestra. She needs a lot of formal outfits for performances.”

  She quickly went inside, then wondered if Cole would be bored and prefer to move on and meet her later. But he was happy to follow. There was a section with clothing for men, and he browsed while she talked with a saleswoman, who suggested that Lauren try on the dress herself to figure out the right size.

  Lauren was standing in front of a long mirror, right outside the dressing room, when she saw Cole’s reflection just behind her. “What do you think?” she asked.

  “If your sister looks anything like you in it, she’ll get a standing ovation.”

  Lauren felt herself blush and saw the evidence of her reaction reflected in the mirror. She wasn’t sure what to say.

  “We do look alike. Which is funny, since Amanda is my stepsister. It’s Jillian and I who have the same parents.”

  “Interesting.” Cole nodded, a funny little smile on his face as he watched her slip away from the mirror and back into the dressing room.

  They proceeded down the street, and Cole bought official Red Sox jerseys for his twin nephews, who were ten and huge baseball fans. His sister and her family lived in Connecticut, and he often spent time with them over the holidays. But this year they were spending both Christmas Eve and Christmas Day in Vermont with her in-laws.

  “They plan to stop for a visit on their way home, so we’ll have Christmas twice,” he said. “Phoebe’s excited to see her cousins and get more presents, of course.”

  “I bet she is.” It sounded as though Cole and Phoebe might be alone on the holiday, and she thought about inviting them to her family’s Christmas Eve party. But it was way too early in their relationship to even consider such a thing.

  Why don’t you get through your first date with the guy, Lauren? Maybe by Groundhog Day it will be time for an invite to meet the clan? If the relationship lasted that long. Her self-imposed deadline to return to New York loomed ahead.

  They passed a shop that sold riding gear—fancy blazers and footwear for equestrians. Cole paused to look in the window, which was beautifully decorated with fake snow and an exceptionally fit-looking Santa wearing a red hunting jacket, black top hat, and high black boots. He sat astride a saddled reindeer, racing through the night.

  “Does Phoebe need anything for her riding lessons?” Lauren wasn’t sure what to get the little girl and thought some accessory might be a good idea.

  “She did ask Santa for real riding boots. Jen Bennet helped me find a good pair. And some jodhpurs, too.”

  “That sounds great,” Lauren said in a bright voice. “I can just see her in all the official gear.”

  Secretly, she cringed when he mentioned the pretty therapist’s name. Lauren could picture Jen riding to the rescue the minute she left for New York—that is, if Jen and Cole weren’t already involved? But posing that question was too blunt a move, even for her.

  “I wouldn’t know the first thing about picking out riding boots,” she added.

  Cole seemed to sense her unease and smiled. He took her hand again and tugged her down the street. “I wouldn’t either. Jen sent me to a shop like this in Hamilton. Her boyfriend owns it. He’s an awesome horseman and polo player. I’m going to take Phoebe to watch him play sometime.”

  Lauren felt a smile stretch from one side of her face to the other. “It’s exciting. Betty and I watched a match last year. They play right on Hamilton’s village green in the spring.”

  He nodded and caught her gaze. “So I’ve heard.”

  They worked their way down the street. Lauren bought a few Christmas ornaments in a store that stocked handmade items from around the world. Cole found an antique shop and bought his sister a beautiful teapot. They took a moment to admire a grand old church at the top of a hill that overlooked the harbor. The tall spire was filled with light and had served as a landmark for sailors for centuries, as brilliant a beacon as any lighthouse.

  At the next corner, they found their restaurant, arriving right on time. The hostess showed them to a table in the corner, and Lauren was glad for the quiet and privacy. She had a lot of questions for Cole and didn’t want to shout over a noisy dining room.

  And you don’t want to interrogate the poor guy either, she reminded her lawyerly side. That would really blow it, Lauren.

  It turned out Cole had many questions for her, too. Lauren was flattered by his interest in hearing about what she was like in high school, her favorite books and movies, and the highs and lows of her college days.

  “I probably shouldn’t be admitting this to anyone, but sometimes, I feel like a real imposter,” she confided. “I mean, am I really a full-fledged, bona fide grown-up? I know I am on paper. But I don’t always feel that way. Being a kid doesn’t feel that long ago.”

  Cole laughed. “I know what you mean. It’s scary. Sometimes I could swear I was still sixteen. A part of me will probably always feel that way, even when I’m sixty. I guess Phoebe was the game changer. Once you’re responsible for another human being, it’s different. Or it should be.”

  Life gets more serious, he meant. Decisions and choices matter more. Or, at least, have a wider impact. You’re not just living for yourself anymore.

  “I think I understand. But I’m sure that until I’m blessed with children myself, I can’t really know what it’s like. Not completely.”

  “No, not completely. Otherwise, a lot of people would not become parents, believe me. Raising Phoebe is the scariest, most challenging thing I’ve ever done. And the most wonderful thing, too. I didn’t really get being a parent, at first. Oh, I loved her like crazy. But since Amy died, I really get it. And nothing else in my life will ever come close. Not my job, not anything.”

  “You’re a great dad,” Lauren said quietly. “I’m not just saying that.”

  “Thanks.” He met her gaze in the candlelight. “I think you’ll be a great mom someday, too.”

  Their waiter arrived with the main course, and Lauren was glad for a break from the serious conversation, though it was wonderful to sit and talk to Cole with such openness and honesty. And warmth. If only there could be more evenings like this one. The closer she felt to him, the more the question of their future seemed to creep up behind her and cast a cold shadow on their evening.

  Cole had ordered steak au poivre with pommes frites and happily dug into the perfectly grilled beef, which was topped with a creamy peppercorn sauce. Thin, crisp french fries were piled beside it. Lauren’s dish, sole almondine, was more delicate. It smelled delicious, and the first bite was sublime.

  They ate in a silence for a few moments, until Cole said, “Any new developments in your job search?”

  “I must admit I haven’t been that proactive about hunting down leads. Assignments at Joe Wagner’s firm have kept me busy. He even offered me a job there.”

  Cole smiled. “I’m not surprised. What did you say?”

  “I was flattered, of course. It’s always flattering to be wanted
. But I don’t think it’s the right place for me. I was honest with Joe, and he seemed to understand.”

  “I understand, too. You were right not to take it. I bet you could do any job there with one hand tied behind your back and a blindfold on. Which isn’t necessarily a good thing.”

  The image made her laugh. “Far from a good thing, I’d say. Though I guess some people don’t mind taking the easy road, for whatever reason. For me, it would be a recipe for utter boredom. I’d love to do what you did, Cole. You seem excited about your work and how you’re using your skills to do some good in the world. I’d like to find an area of law that I feel passionately about, too. Actually, I may be getting close. There’s a case at Joe’s firm I’ve been working on. The client is a woman who’s been treated unfairly by her employer. Several women now, it turns out.”

  She quickly described Madeleine Belkin’s claim, without breaching her privacy or that of any of the other women involved. “It’s the first case I’ve felt excited about in a long time. We meet with the attorneys who represent the former employer next week. I’m a little nervous, but psyched, too.”

  “Yes, I can see that,” he replied. “Your eyes have that tiger glow. The opposing counsel better watch out.” His warning made her laugh. “Sounds like you’re on the right track. I can’t say it was easy for me,” he added, “but I did figure it out. And I understand what you’re going through. I admire that you’ve taken on the struggle and aren’t just ignoring or bottling up those feelings—which is what a lot of people do, because they’re afraid to make a change. You’ll figure it out.”

  Lauren felt encouraged by his words. “Thanks. Lately, it seems like my life is a big snow globe and someone shook it up like crazy. Everything is still swirling around inside, one blurry mess that may never settle.”

  He smiled and took her hand. “It’s not that bad. Honestly. You know what the French say? ‘If you want to make an omelet, you have to break some eggs.’”

  Lauren laughed. “Good reminder. Actually, it was Lenin who said that, on the way to start the Russian Revolution. He was hiding in Paris, in a boxcar. Maybe that’s why you thought it was someone French?”

  “I think it’s just the reference to an omelet.” Cole grinned. “I’ve never heard that story about Lenin. Tell me the truth—are you a Jeopardy! champion in disguise?”

  She shook her head and laughed. “Just a European history major in disguise. You studied finance and can be excused.”

  “Thanks. I appreciate that.” The dessert menu had arrived, and Cole scanned the choices with a serious expression. He looked up and said, “I guess that means you probably won’t stick around much longer. I mean, if you turned down a job with Wagner, it’s unlikely.”

  It sounded as if he really cared about her answer, and she was taken by surprise. She wasn’t sure how to respond.

  “Yes, it’s unlikely,” she said finally.

  He nodded. “I thought so. I just wanted to be sure.”

  He seemed sad, and she suddenly felt bad she hadn’t offered more hope or shaded the truth just a tiny bit. But she had to be honest with him.

  His phone buzzed with a text message and he quickly checked it. “Sorry, it’s Phoebe’s babysitter. I’d better call.”

  He stepped away from the table for privacy, and Lauren was happy to have a few moments to get her emotions under control.

  Her reply to his question had been the equivalent of saying that following her bliss would lead her away from Cape Light—and away from him and Phoebe. And when things were suddenly going so well between them. She hadn’t felt so head over heels for anyone in a long, long time. Maybe never. She really couldn’t say what it was about Cole. In some inexplicable way, he just seemed to be the one for her.

  Could she possibly trust this crazy feeling that she couldn’t even explain to herself? Was she willing to toss aside her career goals for the slim possibility that they might have a future together? It seemed like a very big if, especially in light of what she’d just been through with Greg. She and Cole didn’t even know each other that well. It would be a gamble to stay because of him, and one that broke all the rules she’d set for herself.

  Her mom’s words came back to her. “You can’t overthink these things.” Lauren had to admit she was doing exactly that.

  Cole returned from his phone call with a cheery smile, and their awkward moment was forgotten. “You’ll never guess what that conversation was about.”

  “Wilbur wants to stay up late to watch a show on Animal Planet?”

  “Not quite. Phoebe told the sitter Wilbur is allowed to have a bowl of ice cream with her as a bedtime snack.”

  “He isn’t?” She really couldn’t see the problem. What was the world coming to when a piglet needed to watch his calories? “I thought it was his job to eat a lot of fattening stuff.”

  “He’s not supposed to have people food. I’m afraid we’ve spoiled him.”

  “Look at the little guy. It’s hard to resist spoiling him.” She could still remember how cute Wilbur had been the night they had all taken care of him, so cuddly in his towel after a bath.

  “The ‘little’ guy is getting bigger every day. I have to talk to Phoebe about relocating Wilbur to the barn. That’s not going to be easy.”

  Lauren didn’t think it would be either. “Maybe you can get her a puppy when the time comes. My aunt has plenty.”

  He looked terrified at the suggestion. “I know you think that’s a great solution . . . and it does make a kind of sense. But please, don’t mention that in front Phoebe. All I need is a puppy and a piglet running around that tiny house right now. It’s hard enough to get any work done.”

  She smothered a laugh with her dessert menu. “My lips are sealed. Except for the occasional oink. And I’ll have the crème brûlée, please,” she added, setting the menu down.

  “There’s something we can agree on. I will as well.”

  He smiled into her eyes, and she could barely recall that there had ever been a moment of tension between them. She secretly cringed to recall the rocky start of their relationship. But she did know she’d been drawn to him from the beginning.

  Can you really walk away from this so easily? Are you a total fool, Lauren?

  It wasn’t even Christmas. Maybe by some miracle everything would work out and she wouldn’t be forced to make these difficult choices.

  Right. And I bet you still believe in Santa, a little voice chided her. This is what being a grown-up means. Do you get it now?

  * * *

  * * *

  Lillian came downstairs Sunday morning dressed for church. There wasn’t much time for breakfast, but she had to eat something or risk feeling light-headed and even faint. To hear Ezra tell it, that old hobgoblin low blood sugar lurked in the shadows ready to pounce, especially on seniors.

  He had come down before her in his bathrobe but was still at the table sipping a cup of tea. Not his usual coffee, she noticed. Bad sign.

  “Are you coming to church today? Emily will be here shortly.”

  “I intended to, but I’m dragging this morning. I didn’t sleep well.” His explanation was interrupted by a sudden cough. He covered his mouth with his elbow to keep the germs in check.

  “I’m not surprised. You were coughing all night. You’ve got a cold from chasing after that dog. What did you expect?”

  Ezra glanced at her, then stirred his tea. “I expected to find him. Why else would I have been out there?”

  She hadn’t meant that. He knew it. She also knew he would never admit he’d been on a wild-goose chase and had made himself physically—not to mention emotionally—sick over it.

  “You must stay home and rest. I’ll bring back chicken soup. Emily will know where to buy some that’s as good as homemade.” Willoughby’s, probably, though Lillian hated to give the place the credit.

  �
�And cough drops, please,” he said, his throat thick and sounding sore.

  “Absolutely. Bed rest and liquids. Keep your head elevated. I hope you don’t have a fever.” Lillian stepped over and pressed her hand to his forehead. She couldn’t really tell if he was feverish or not, they kept the house so warm. “We’ll see Dr. Harding tomorrow if it gets worse. I hope you’ve learned a lesson. Finally. Will you die of pneumonia over this silly creature?”

  She guessed that by now the dog had already met with some unhappy end. Wasn’t it just as well that Ezra give up without knowing for sure that sad conclusion to this story?

  He wasn’t being logical. That was the problem. But he had lost all reason the moment he’d set eyes on the blasted canine.

  Ezra rose and tightened the sash on his robe. “I won’t catch pneumonia, Lillian. We’ve had the vaccine, remember? I will see Harding if needed. It’s just a cold. Leave me be.”

  He walked past her, looking so sad and beaten, she felt alarmed. Where had her Ezra gone? This bleak, possessed soul—a wraith of a man—had somehow stolen his place.

  “Ezra, before you go up, I have something to say . . .” She followed him as quickly as she was able.

  He was already seated in the mechanical chair. She didn’t like to see that. He always climbed the stairs on his own, strictly adhering to a “use it or lose it” philosophy, unless he felt particularly tired or weak.

  “If this is about Christmas shopping, spare me. I actually have very little say in the choices, when you come right down to it. Just be done with it and put my name on the packages.”

  “It’s not about the gifts for the children. But, perhaps, one for you,” she began. “I’ve been thinking—if you feel this strongly about having an animal in the house, I might see my way to taking in one that we agree on. A very miniature poodle type, perhaps? Or one of those teacup sort of dogs? They barely weigh a pound or two. I thought Jessica could advise us. We could look into it, in the New Year,” she clarified, not entirely sure she was ready to commit to the idea, though she did want him to know she was at least willing to try to strike a compromise.