“Where’s your couch?” she asked.
Amber pointed through the archway. “In the dining room under the bay window.”
“The tree?”
Amber usually set up their tree in the front room, right in the bay window. She loved to change the color scheme. Last year, she used bubblegum pink to celebrate Journey’s first Christmas.
“Dining room.”
Paisley laughed. “You guys are serious.”
“Just until Christmas.”
Right, because Clay’s leaving.
Amber rambled on, “It’s been so great to get together again. I feel like I’ve found a part of my soul I didn’t know was missing.”
Paisley ran her hand down Jeb’s guitar strings and wondered what that would feel like.
“I sent Sawyer and Peake to the store for baby Tylenol. They should be back soon. Do you want to eat dinner with us?”
“Sure.” Amber was almost as passionate about cooking as she was about music. Paisley envied her flavorful dinners and when that girl went to work on chocolate, all diets flew out the window.
They walked through the dining area and Paisley paused to admire the turquoise themed Christmas decorations on the tree. Glass balls and stars in blue, accented with white snowflakes and bows hung from the branches, making them droop. Even the lights twinkled from white to turquoise. “I think I like this one best,” said Paisley.
“I thought the gold one was your favorite,” said Amber as she lifted the lid off a pot and stirred the homemade chicken soup.
“Ooo, that one was pretty.”
Paisley stepped closer and touched a tiny guitar ornament’s smooth surface. She noticed drums and microphones sprinkled here and there. Amber was all about the moment.
“Do you think I’m spontaneous?” Paisley blurted.
Amber’s spoon paused. “Um ... not really. Why?”
At least, Amber was honest with her. Paisley slumped onto a barstool and rested her chin on her hand. “It was just something someone said.”
Amber added pepper to the soup. “This someone wouldn’t happen to be Clay, would it?”
“Maybe,” Paisley said begrudgingly.
Amber narrowed her eyes like a protective older sister. “What did he say?”
Paisley ticked the items off on her fingers as she said, “That I forgot how to have fun. That I’m shut off to feeling things. That I’m boring.”
“He called you boring?!” Amber knew the whole story with Brent, right down to the way he’d called her and Snow Valley as boring as a rodeo without any bulls. She was ready to work herself into a tizzy on Paisley’s behalf and Paisley didn’t want to be responsible for getting Clay on Amber’s bad side.
“Not in so many words ...”
Amber pressed her lips together. “Why do you care what he thinks?”
“I don’t.” Paisley spoke too fast. She tucked her hands under her legs and lowered her voice. “It’s just … everyone seems to be more passionate than me. You and Sawyer grab onto things like music, decorating for Christmas, even each other, and fill your life with them. I don’t do that and I wonder if I’m missing out.”
Amber took the simmering soup off the stove and got out four bowls and spoons. “If you don’t like it, change it. I saw a movie once where the guy had to say yes to everything. The experience opened up a host of possibilities in his life. You could do that.”
Paisley chewed on the idea. “All I have to do is say yes?”
“Yes to everything.” Amber circled the table putting out the bowls and spoons.
Paisley got clean cups from the dishwasher and followed her. “Everything?” Paisley wasn’t sure.
“What if someone asks me to rob a bank or buy kids cigarettes?”
Amber cocked her hip. “Seriously, do you even know someone who would ask you to rob a bank?”
Paisley went to the fridge to get out the milk and the grape juice she knew would be in there. Sawyer always drank milk with dinner and Peake preferred grape juice. “No. But, you know what I mean.”
“So, take a test drive. Do it tomorrow.” Amber put a trivet in the middle of the table. She poured the soup into a Christmas tureen and then sliced up thick crusted bread.
Paisley stopped in the middle of the kitchen, grape juice in one hand and milk in the other. Can I really do this?
Amber walked around her. “You’re scared, aren’t you?”
Paisley couldn’t even answer; her mind was stuck like a scratched CD and she couldn’t get past the idea stage. Saying yes to every possibility, every request, every opportunity, would leave her day open, exposed. The idea made her feel bare—no vulnerable.
Amber said, “I dare you.”
Paisley dodged the hot pad Amber threw her direction.
“Double-dog dare you.” Amber laughed and threw the other hot pad.
Paisley stuck out her tongue.
With Amber’s ammunition spent, Paisley took a moment to reflect on the idea. She was terrified of the risk and pulled in by the unexpected. As far as experiments go, this one was somewhat controlled. All she had on her calendar tomorrow was food shopping and catching up on cheesy Christmas movies. She’d planned to go to the Winter Carnival with Amber and the kids because Sawyer had to work late, but if Journey was sick, they’d stay home; which meant she’d just have to survive a day alone. There was no chance of running into someone who … okay … there was no chance of running into Clay and having him tease her, ask her to dinner, or invite her to a food fight. Sure, she was being a chicken, but if one day went well she could extend the trial.
“I’ll do it.” Paisley placed the drinks on the table.
Amber’s eyes lit up and Paisley put her hands out in front of her. “On one condition, I’m not talking to you or Sawyer all day.”
“But –”
“Nope. If you know I have to say yes, you can’t take advantage of me. Sawyer will have me washing his car or sweeping the garage.”
“Fine, but we have to bet. The stakes have to be high enough you won’t chicken out.”
Paisley folded her arms. “What do you have in mind?”
“New Year’s Eve babysitting.”
“Fine. It’s not like I have a date anyway.” Although, after tomorrow, who knew? She could have three dates for New Year’s. Yeah right, there weren’t three single men in Snow Valley. Okay, maybe there were, but she had no desire to date cousins or cousin-like friends.
“And ...” Amber got a wicked glint in her eye. “You take down the outside Christmas lights in January.”
“No way.” If there was one chore Paisley hated more than scrubbing bathrooms, changing diapers, or cleaning out stalls, it was standing on an aluminum ladder in the cold, trying to unhook Christmas lights. Amber didn’t leave her flair for the dramatic in the house. There had to be over two dozen strands blinking away out front. “That’s why you have a husband.”
“Yeah, but I can’t think of a better Christmas present to give him.”
“What if I win?”
“I’ll do your hair and makeup for the Ball and you can borrow any dress you want.”
“It’s a deal.” Paisley held out her hand and they shook on it. “Be prepared to hand over your black dress, girlfriend.”
“I’ll believe it when I see it,” countered Amber.
As Sawyer and Peake burst through the front door, Paisley realized tomorrow was a blank slate and for once in her life, she didn’t have a dry-erase marker ready to fill it in.
Chapter 6
PAISLEY SLEPT LATE SATURDAY MORNING for the first time since elementary school. Since the day was all about saying yes to opportunities and sleeping in was an opportunity she rarely indulged in, she thought she was off to a pretty good start.
With a full eight hours of sleep, Paisley found a determination level she hadn’t felt in quite some time. She was going to win this bet – and earn a makeover from Amber – if it killed her. Since she didn’t have to go into work, the day wo
uld be a snap. She lay in bed reading for an hour before deciding she should at least get dressed.
She turned on her laptop and opened her email, ready to say yes to whatever task lay before her. Her only email was a confirmation to pick up the tablecloths for the Christmas ball the day before Christmas Eve. Feeling discouraged, she sent an affirmative reply.
She left yet another voicemail for Alfred concerning the string quartet. The situation was becoming desperate.
If she had to, Paisley would drive to Billings and track the guy down.
There was a knock at the door. Paisley peeked through the peephole to see her neighbor, Mrs. Brynolf and her tall, grey bouffant. Unlocking the door, she swung it open with a hearty, “Good morning.”
Mrs. Brynolf took a step back, clutching her purse to her chest. “Well, it won’t be if my heart stops beating and I keel over just a few days before Christmas.”
Paisley suppressed a smile. “Come now, Mrs. Brynolf, we both know you’re much too sturdy to die of fright.”
Mrs. Brynolf relaxed her grip on her purse. “I suppose it would take more than the likes of you to do me in.”
The morning passed quickly as she shared fruit cake with Mrs. Brynolf and helped load Christmas gifts into her car.
Amber tried to call. Ha, no way. Paisley sent her to voicemail.
By the time lunch rolled around, Paisley felt daring and ordered take out from Tina’s. On the way home, she called Alfred again only to be greeted by his polite, but not at all helpful, voicemail. As she finished up with her message, her phone beeped. The caller ID flashed Amber’s name and she ignored the call. Not a minute later Sawyer tried to call and she ignored him, too.
Tapping her fingernails on the steering wheel, she wondered if there was an emergency. There were advantages to working at the hospital. When she got home, she logged into the system and checked the admittance list for her family’s names.
The ER was slow. One set of stitches and the name attached wasn’t familiar.
She let out a sigh of relief. Her brother and sister-in-law thought they could test her mettle. The stinkers. Well, she’d show them. She turned off her cell phone and dropped it into her purse.
The afternoon was pretty low key. She did her grocery shopping, stocking up on enough food to last at least two weeks. She got home, unloaded her groceries, and settled in with a book.
Around six, Paisley turned off her computer, fighting the disappointment that threatened to drag her down. Her big experiment had fizzled out.
What did you expect to happen?
Paisley contemplated her kitchen.
Something… life changing .
She opened the fridge with a sigh. Time to make the lasagna she’d been putting off. Just like every other time she made a full pan, she’d divvy it out into plastic containers and freeze the pasta in individual serving sizes so she could pull them out for dinner later in the week. The same-old, same-old routine grated on her nerves.
Cold air from the freezer brushed her face. She was ready to throw her routine in the trash. The problem was, she didn’t know what to do to shake things up. Filled with the same need to experience life that caused her to make the bet with Amber, she slammed the fridge shut and paced the kitchen, trying desperately to come up with a way to break through her boredom.
The doorbell chimed. Paisley ran to open the door as though whatever was on the other side would be the answer to her dilemma.
She was shocked to find Peake on her doorstep. Paisley dropped to her knees so they were eye-to-eye. “Peake, how did you get here?”
“You promised the whirly.”
“What?”
Heavy footsteps echoed off the close-set buildings. A bulky form ran through the shadows and Paisley grabbed Peake’s jacket to pull him inside.
“Peake!” called a familiar, though near panicked, voice. Paisley leaned out into the night air and could just make out Clay’s stubble-covered jaw in the overhead lighting. Peake must have run ahead and scared Clay.
“Over here.” She waved.
Clay jogged in their direction, his breath trailing behind him in short puffs.
“Hey,” he said giving her a huge smile as they all stepped inside and Clay shut the door behind them.
Paisley leaned against the wall, because her legs turned to soup at the sight of Clay’s eyes all alight.
So. Not. Fair.
“Someone insisted we stop here,” said Clay as he removed his stocking hat. “He took off the minute I opened the door. I thought I’d lost him.”
“Aunt Paswy!” Peake stomped his Spiderman snow boots in excitement. “You have to come.”
Paisley looked from Clay to Peake. “Where are you going, buddy?”
“Whirly!”
Paisley had no idea what Peake wanted. She looked to Clay for translation.
“Amber said you promised to take him on the Tilt-O-whirl. He pitched a fit when she said they couldn’t go because the baby is sick. I offered to take him over to the carnival, but he won’t go unless you go with him.”
Paisley’s hand went to her chest. “I forgot.”
“They tried to call you,” said Clay, his voice informational and not at all accusatory, though Paisley had to swallow down the guilt. Amber had tried all day and Paisley had ignored her – ignored her nephew. What kind of an aunt was she anyway? “My phone was off.”
“So, you wanna head over? I hear it’s going to be epic,” Clay said with a hint of sarcasm.
Paisley smiled. This was just what she’d been waiting for and still, she hesitated. Even though she was supposed to say yes to everything, she wasn’t expecting Clay to be the first real test to her commitment level.
On the one hand, she should keep her promise to Peake. On the other hand, she’d promised herself she would steer clear of Clay and his warm eyes. He was trouble with a “postmark by Dec. 25th” label. But ... there was her yes-bet with Amber. If she didn’t go, Amber would win and Paisley would be forced to honor her word and take down their Christmas lights after New Year’s.
For a split second, she wondered if Amber arranged this to get her and Clay together, but one look at Peake’s eager face blew that theory. The kid wanted so badly to ride the big rides last year, but didn’t make the height requirement by less than one heartbreaking inch. She’d promised to take him all year and then things got so busy with the Christmas Tree Parade, the cookie party, and worrying about Journey’s strep – she plumb forgot the Tilt-O-Whirl. Forgetting her promise was no way to be the kid’s favorite aunt.
Bye-bye lasagna night.
Chapter 7
THE WINTER CARNIVAL WAS AN anomaly in the world of carnivals. Where most cities and towns had their carnival in the summer when the only snow to be found was in a watermelon snow cone, Snow Valley’s was in the middle of December. Sure, hot chocolate could turn into an ice cube at the top of the Ferris Wheel and ski goggles were often required to get on the rides. Once word got out about their unconventional tradition, tourists thronged Snow Valley for the opportunity to ride a merry-go-round in a snowstorm.
This year was no exception, except for the snowstorm part, and Paisley kept a tight hold to Peake’s mitten as Clay bought tickets. He offered and since she was saying yes, she let him, even though the gesture made their outing too much like a date.
He came back with two fists full of red and green tickets, his eyes alight. “I want to do everything.”
Paisley laughed. “Well, I think you bought enough tickets to do it all – and then some.”
“Will you help me get these in here?” he asked as he tried to wrangle one set of tickets into his coat pocket. With his gloves, the task was almost impossible. Paisley stepped close, trying not to notice the way her heart beat faster when Clay was around.
Paisley used her teeth to pull off her right glove and stuffed tickets into Clay’s side pocket. He winked at her and she caught herself ducking her head. Dang. This was one of those times she focused on a task, so
she could ignore her feelings. Not today. Today she had to open up and allow herself to experience life, even the way Clay made breathing difficult with just a look.
She forced herself to catch Clay’s eye. He seemed surprised at first, and then a lazy smile spread across his cheeks and Paisley decided one night flirting with Clay could be thoroughly enjoyable. She slipped her glove back on.
“I think I got it,” she said, zipping up his pocket.
“You sure do,” he said and Paisley forgot it was cold outside.
“I want tickets, too.” Peake jumped up and down.
Clay accordion folded a line of tickets and then held them up for Peake to see. “These are the ones for your ride. We’re gonna zip them in your pocket, so they don’t get lost, okay?”
“Okay.” Peake held freeze-tag still, so Clay could get the pocket zipped up.
Paisley got a kick out of watching them together.
As they walked through the entrance gates, the smell of roasted almonds filled the air. Paisley took a deep breath.
“I think Aunt Paswey wants a snack.” Clay steered them toward the food vendors.
“I’m goo-” Paisley stopped her knee-jerk reaction to put off her impulse. Instead, she swung Peake’s arm and said, “Sounds great.”
Clay ordered two bags and handed over the required tickets. Laughing as they tried to grab the nuts with their huge gloves, they ended up tipping the cones back like cups.
“Can we play?” asked Peake as he pointed at the game booths. The one right in front of them had different sized icicles. A couple players tried to toss multi-colored hoops over the blunt spikes.
Paisley shrugged. This one was an easy yes. “Sure.”
They each got three hoops and took aim. Peake’s first hoop bounced between two spikes and fell away. Paisley’s hit the front spike and bounced to the floor. Clay’s hooked one on a funny angle, did a lazy loop, and fell off.
Lucy McConnell's Snow Valley Box Set Page 6
