Christmas Sugar ~ Melanie Moreland

by Moreland, Melanie

  “It’s a big city.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Yes.”

  “Lots happening—all the time.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Have you been to a play this year, Dylan?”

  I frowned. “I took you to see Les Misérables for your birthday.”

  “That was two years ago, dear boy.”

  “Well, then, I guess not.”

  “Concerts?”

  “No.”

  “Opera, symphony, a sporting event?”

  I ran my hand over my face. “No. I’m busy, Arlene. I don’t have time to do those things. Or much interest in them, to be honest.”

  She nodded, still looking out the window. “Nightclubbing?”

  I snorted. “You know I don’t go nightclubbing.”

  “Of course.” She tapped her lip thoughtfully. “You took a couple of days off in the summer, correct?”

  “Yes. What are you getting at?”

  “Humor me, Dylan. What did you do while you were off? Explore the galleries and museums? Walk the waterfront?”

  “No. I rented a small cabin up north and relaxed for a few days. I needed to get away from the city and the bustle.”

  “Right.”

  “I like it up there. It’s peaceful.”

  “Yes, I could tell when you came back.” She turned from the window and headed to the door. “I’ve decided to do dinner tomorrow, not Christmas Day. I’m planning on an early one. Be there for four.”

  I slammed my hand on my desk. “What the hell was all that about? All your hints and clues? Trying to point out the fact that I could give up my life and go east?” I stood up, waving my arm around. “What about my business? Have you thought of that?”

  She paused, her hand on the doorknob. “A business can be run from anywhere, Dylan. Most of the business you do is via phone or computer. If needed, planes take you wherever you want to go.”

  “That’s it!” I snarled in exasperation. “You think I should give up my life in Toronto and go to Alex. You think that’s what I need to do?”

  She tilted her head and studied me. “I would never dream of telling you what to do, Dylan.” She pulled open the door and said, before walking out, “And you can’t give up a life you aren’t living.”

  Hours later, I paced the floor, my hands tugging on my hair in irritation, cursing Arlene Carson’s name.

  What the hell was she trying to do? Did she really think I could simply uproot my life? And do what? Become a family man and live in a small town? And live at the Sleepy Moose Inn?

  I threw back a shot of scotch, the burn welcome as I moved restlessly around my condo.

  What did she expect—I would go out east, marry Alex, and look after her and her children? Become a dad? I scoffed out loud. Marriage—children—neither was on my radar.

  The image of Noelle’s little face swam behind my eyes, and the sound of her sweet voice echoed in my head. Her adorable smile and the way she lisped all her words. I knew I would go to Pinegrove to check on the project once it was underway, and chances were, given how small the town was, I would see them, even if I didn’t actively seek them out. Noelle’s teeth would have grown in by then and that endearing part of her would have disappeared, but it would always be how I remembered her.

  The next time I saw Seth, he would have grown up even more. He was already on that borderline between being a boy and a man. I knew, with Alex’s influence, he would grow to be a fine one. I thought of our private conversation while I was there. He hadn’t needed sex education—he knew all about sex, or at least, the mechanics of it. He needed someone to talk to about the emotion that came with sex—about how he was feeling for the girl he liked. A little part of me hoped my words would stay with him and help him be the man I knew he could become.

  And Alex. My heart clenched as I thought about her. She’d been on my mind endlessly since I returned; no matter how hard I tried not to think about her—and what we shared. Somehow, she was always there, peeking around the corner, filling my mind with thoughts, images, and memories.

  I shook my head. It was ridiculous. No matter what mumbo jumbo Arlene spouted about knowing me. I had known Alex a few days. Made love to her a handful of times. We had no history, no long-term plans. We had agreed on that. Other than the one call to let her know I was back safe in Toronto, I hadn’t spoken to her. She had my number, but she hadn’t reached out to me either.

  Yet, I couldn’t stop thinking about her. Worrying about her. Wondering what she was going to do when the inn was no longer her home. She’d refused every offer I’d made to help her; although, I knew George now had enough money to help her find a safe place to live.

  Still, I worried about her. Was she managing? Would she be angry over the gifts I sent? I wanted her and the children to have a good Christmas. To enjoy the day and let them all have a few Santa surprises.

  To thank her in some small way for making me feel, even for a short time, as if I mattered. Not Dylan Maxwell the businessman—someone you wanted to have on your side and trade favors with for your own personal and financial gain. Just Dylan—the man. She had brought forth so much emotion—for her, Noelle, and Seth. She had shown me there was more to me than simply someone with a good head for business on his shoulders. She, and the kids, had liked Dylan.

  I liked myself when I was with them.

  I drained my glass with an angry curse. There was no point in thinking about it. Alex had her life there in Pinegrove, and I had mine here in Toronto. Regardless of what bullshit Arlene had been spewing earlier, I had a life and it was a good one. I had a fantastic condo, a business I ran well, and I stayed busy. I spent my evenings and weekends working out, at various functions, and I . . .

  My thoughts trailed off.

  I had dinner on occasion with Arlene and her husband. Even rarer, I had dinner with a friend who was in town or I’d bumped into. My last girlfriend had been two years ago, and she had walked out, saying I was emotionally unavailable and a grouch most of the time. I had to agree with her—she made me grouchy with her constant need to spend my money and her frivolous demands on my time.

  Since then, though, there had been no one of significance.

  Except Alex.

  I slammed down my glass—bloody Arlene and her mutterings. I was fine.

  I was fine before I met Alex, and I’d be fine once the stupid holidays were over.

  I ignored the low jingle in my head that sounded like laughter.

  The next day, I arrived at Arlene’s promptly at four. She hated latecomers. I brought two bottles of her favorite wine, as well as had sent flowers earlier. I did it every year. Although, usually, dinner was on Christmas Day, but I assumed she was spending it with her grandkids.

  I had spent the day in the office alone, after magnanimously giving Amy the day off. Before she left yesterday, I’d handed her a small bonus, which Arlene insisted she deserved, and a gift certificate for her favorite salon, which Arlene had picked up for me. I refrained from advising her to use it to color her roots and perhaps to embrace her natural hair color for a change. I knew that would be frowned upon, and Arlene would kick my ass, so I wished Amy happy holidays and got my own coffee for the day.

  It still wasn’t as good as Alex’s was.

  I got a lot done, including going over the plans for the Ocean Bluff Resort. I kept looking at the diagrams. At one point, I had sketched a different design over the top, moving the main entrance and adding a house on the bluff, before shaking my head in disgust. I rolled up the plans and shoved them back into their container.

  I was being ridiculous.

  Arlene and Simon welcomed me warmly, and we sat down to a pleasant meal, chatting about their plans for the holidays and after she retired. My appetite was off, and I pushed the food around on my plate, pretending to eat. They kept exchanging glances, which I ignored.

  After dinner, we sat in their great room, admiring the gigantic Christmas tree in the corner filled with lights and packages sp
illing over in piles beneath it.

  With a smile, I held out an envelope, containing the cruise voucher I was giving them, and the gifts I had purchased in Nova Scotia. After many hugs and handshakes, I opened my gifts: the special edition bottle of Courvoisier and a new pair of lounge pants—blue plaid this time. I arched my eyebrow at Arlene.

  “Think you’re funny?”

  “You found a use for the last pair. I thought these would come in handy for the next time you tried to relax.”

  Again, I ignored her not-so-subtle hint.

  She handed me another parcel. I frowned as I took it from her hands. Unlike the sleek, perfectly wrapped gifts that were under the tree, this one was awkward—the edges crinkled, the paper covered in reindeer and funny Santa faces, and it was cold to the touch.

  “What’s this?”

  “Open it.”

  My hands trembled as I unwrapped the paper. Inside was a container with an envelope taped to the top. Opening it up, I stared at it as tears came to my eyes.

  A hand-drawn picture—crude and childlike. There was no doubt—Noelle. It was the couch in the lobby of the inn. All of us were on it. I held Noelle on my lap; Seth was on one side of me, and Alex on the other. She had even drawn my stick figure arm around Alex’s shoulders. In scrawly, uneven print, the words, Merry Christmas Dylan were at the top.

  Inside was Noelle’s signature, about a thousand xxxx’s and a short note from Alex.

  Dylan,

  Noelle couldn’t bear the thought of her Dywan not having some of his favorite Sugar Sprinkle cookies for the holidays. However, I couldn’t figure out how to send Tater Tot Casserole, so these will have to do. Mrs. Carson was kind enough to accept delivery and keep them fresh.

  We hope you are well and your life is good.

  Merry Christmas,

  Alex

  PS—She misses you.

  We all miss you.

  X

  I blinked away the moisture and opened the lid. Inside the box, Noelle’s “suga cookies” filled the space.

  I offered the container to Arlene and Simon, and we each ate one silently.

  My gaze kept falling on the words at the bottom: We all miss you.

  I swallowed and lifted my eyes, meeting Arlene’s knowing ones. She nodded, a small smile playing on her lips.

  “They miss me,” I choked out.

  “Of course they do.” She smiled tenderly. “You miss them.”

  The ache in my chest became a yawning chasm. I had to say the words before I fell.

  “I think . . . I think I love her. I think I love all of them. How is that even possible? I only knew them a few days.”

  “It is possible. I loved you the moment I met you. That has never changed,” she said. “Love has no schedule.”

  “They need me—they all need me.”

  “You need them, Dylan.”

  The lump in my throat grew.

  She leaned forward, cupping my face. “Dear boy, I love you, and I’m proud of your success and everything else you’ve accomplished. But your life is empty, and you’ve been alone long enough. I heard more joy in your voice those few days than I have ever witnessed with you in all these years. It’s time to start living. It’s okay to need someone. To love someone.” She paused, her voice fierce. “You are not your father, Dylan. You have so much love to give. Go and get it.”

  I wasn’t my father—my cold, unbending father who never had time for me after my mother died. Those words resonated in my head. She was right. I wanted to spend time with Seth and Noelle. In fact, I wanted to spend lots of time with them. And I wanted Alex. I wanted to be with Alex every minute.

  I was tired of denying it. I was tired of the empty, aching feeling in my chest.

  “It’s crazy.”

  She kissed my cheek. “Love is.”

  I grabbed her, hugging her hard. “I have to go. I have to figure out how to get to them.”

  She drew back, her eyes dancing. “Roger will be at the airport tonight at eleven. All your gifts are already on the plane I chartered. A rental car is waiting for you at the airport when you arrive. You’ll be there when they wake up Christmas morning.”

  “How?”

  “George left a key in the flowerpot. All you have to do is wait.”

  “George?”

  She grinned, an infectious I-know-you-better-than-you-know-yourself grin. “Let’s just say we covered all the bases . . . In case you finally took your snooty head out of your ass long enough to see what was right in front of you.”

  The fact that two people, one practically a stranger, had discussed and planned this should have upset me. But it didn’t. Gratitude and love, the love I had for the woman who was so much like a mother to me, welled up, and I hugged her again. “Thank you, Arlene.”

  “I’ll make certain the office is covered until you get back. I’ll help you close this one down.” She smirked. “I think you’ll have lots of help setting up the new one. A certain, well-organized innkeeper comes to mind for that job.”

  I grinned back at her. “I think she’s going to be the one issuing the orders.”

  She beamed at me. “That is exactly what you need.” She pointed to the door. “Go and find your life, Dylan.”

  I kissed her cheek. “Merry Christmas.”

  “Merry Christmas, my dear boy.”

  THE ROADS WERE DESERTED AS I drove toward the Sleepy Moose Inn. Boxes and bags filled the minivan, and every time I looked in the rearview mirror, I chuckled. I felt like Santa Claus. I had laughed when Roger walked me out to pick up my rental car and I saw it was one of the dreaded minivans. I had a feeling Arlene had done that on purpose. I didn’t care. It held all my gifts, and it was getting me to where I belonged. On the front seat sat the almost empty container of “suga cookies.” I couldn’t stop eating them, and I really hoped Alex had more.

  I pulled in the long, winding driveway, my heart rate picking up. I’d see Alex soon. Be able to feel her in my arms. Kiss Noelle’s sweet little face. Tease Seth.

  Feel complete in a way I hadn’t since I’d left them behind.

  The Christmas lights were on, glowing bright in the darkness. I parked the van in front of the door, surprised to see George in his wheelchair outside, puffing on one of his forbidden cigars, the smoke circling his head. A thick blanket draped over his legs, and he wore a heavy parka against the cold. I got out of the vehicle and walked toward him, extending my hand. He shook it, looking serious.

  “Dylan.”

  “George.” I smiled at him. “Are you enjoying a stolen cigar, or are you out here because you had another one of your feelings that I’d show up after your chat with Arlene?”

  A huge grin broke out on his face, and his eyes crinkled, the wrinkles on his face prominent. “Wish I could say yes, but more like Mrs. Carson called me to tell me you were on your way.”

  “The two of you know way too much about my personal life.”

  He turned serious. “Before I let you in, I need to know what your intentions are, Dylan. I can’t let them be hurt again.”

  “Again?”

  “Alex may seem to be strong, but she hasn’t been the same since you left. Neither has my Noelle. Even Seth has been quiet. You had quite the impact on them.”

  “As they did me. I haven’t been the same either,” I assured him.

  “So, this is serious? Not just a visit?”

  I slipped my hand into my pocket and withdrew the tiny box inside. I opened the case and held out the diamond ring I had brought with me. It had taken a lot of begging and favors to get my friend to meet me at his jewelry store on Christmas Eve so I could get it. As soon as I saw it in his backroom vault, I knew it was the one. Perfect for my Alex—simple, elegant, and symbolic. The three stones represented what they were to me—one for each of the people who had claimed my heart. I knew nothing about diamonds, but Garrett had assured me they were high quality and even sketched out a band that would go well with the setting. I liked how the light ca
ught the jewels, reflecting their brilliance. He had larger, fancier ones, but I knew Alex wouldn’t like them. But the one I chose . . . I knew she would love. If she forgave me and said yes.

  “Is this serious enough for you, George? I’m here for them. All of them.”

  He studied the ring, then looked at me. “She doesn’t want to leave here, but I think, for you, she will.”

  I shut the lid and slid the ring back into my pocket. “She won’t have to. I’m going to come here. To her.” I looked past him to the ocean. “I’m going to build her a house—on the bluff, or wherever she wants it. Create a home and a life with her.”

  He sighed, a long puff of white escaping his mouth. “Be the husband she deserves. The one my son couldn’t be for her.”

  He shrugged at my raised eyebrows.

  “I’m old, not blind. Alex and Eric were great friends, and that is how they should have remained. Alex has been a godsend to me, but she stopped living a long time ago. When Eric died, she mourned her friend and Noelle’s father, but not her soul mate. She deserves that.” He didn’t say anything for a moment. “I saw how she looked at you. She found that with you. I think you found that with her.” He hesitated and extended his hand. “You have my blessing, Dylan. I know you’ll look after all of them.”

  I took his proffered hand. “With everything in me.”

  He smiled. “I know. Now, you’d better get that haul inside and set it up.” He chuckled. “But I guarantee, nothing you’ve bought gift-wise will compare to the joy they’ll have when they see you.”

  I smiled back at him. Being with them was going to be my greatest gift as well.

  I paced the bar, nervous as I sipped on a brandy. George had offered me a room so I could get some sleep, but I knew it would be a waste. I wouldn’t rest until I could be with Alex. He left me alone, saying he was sure Alex would be down soon anyway. I knew he was trying to give us our privacy for when she arrived.