A Season For Hope (A Fairhope Christmas Novella)

by Cannon, Sarra

  “Everyone’s coming to my place around five,” he says. “Then the limo is supposed to be there around five-thirty to take us to dinner at Ray’s. The dance starts at seven.”

  I nod and press my lips together.

  “So you’ll come by my place?”

  “Whatever works best for you,” I say, smiling. I think of how Judd’s apartment looks out over the parking lot. How am I going to explain this to him? This is turning into a huge mess, but I can’t bring myself to say no to Preston. It’s a long-learned habit, impossible to break no matter how much he hurt me.

  “Okay, then, I’ll see you around five at my apartment,” he says. He takes my hand in his and his thumb caresses mine. “I’m looking forward to spending some time with you.”

  I stand there staring after him for several minutes before I finally pull myself together enough to clean the rest of the tables and close out my shift. I don’t even know what to make of that. Is he really looking forward to spending time with me? Or is that just something you say to your ex-girlfriend when you need her to do something for you?

  And how am I going to break this to Judd? Will he care? Or is he mad at me already?

  I glance at the clock and realize my shift should have ended fifteen minutes ago. He never came in like he said he would, anyway. There are no messages on my phone, either.

  I clock out and pull my coat tight against my body. I walk the whole way home in the cold evening air, unsure of what I want anymore.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  I try Judd’s cell phone a few more times, but he never picks up and he never calls back.

  Maybe it’s for the best. We had one amazing week together. One unbelievable night together. And now it’s over. He gave me just enough to make me realize there’s hope for my future, but we don’t have to go through the painful parts of a relationship that come later.

  But even as I’m saying this to myself, I know it’s complete bullshit.

  If I can never be with him again, it’s going to hurt.

  Bad.

  I’m falling for him. Yes, I got scared this morning, but isn’t he the one who said we should talk through these kinds of things? Well, if he wants to talk, he’ll call.

  And if not, then I’ll move on. I’ll find a way to get up every day and keep breathing.

  Over the next few days, I have to give myself constant pep talks to keep from completely falling apart. I stopped calling and texting him, sick of feeling desperate. The whole thing reminds me of how things went with Preston after the summer. It was always me chasing and him running away.

  I can’t go through that again.

  I throw myself into my studies, head to my final classes and do the best I can on the exams. My statistics test was the worst, and it’ll be a miracle if I passed, but everything else seemed to go alright.

  In order to keep myself from falling back into my old pattern of sleeping all day and crying every waking moment, I spend a lot of time in the art studio, working on a new series of paintings in a Christmas theme.

  I’m scrubbing red paint off my fingers with scalding hot water when Monica pokes her head into my bathroom doorway on Wednesday afternoon.

  “Heya,” she says. “Any news?”

  I shake my head. “Nothing,” I say.

  She frowns. “I really thought this guy was different,” she says. “I don’t get it.”

  “You and me both,” I say, holding back tears. “I guess I freaked him out by the way I acted the other morning and he just doesn’t want to see me again.”

  She grips the edge of the doorframe. “I don’t know. I still think it’s weird,” she says. “Especially after he rushed right over here the second you didn’t answer your phone that one day. Hey, maybe he’s just waiting for you to come by his place?”

  I lift my head, wondering if that’s what I should do. Should I fight for this? Should I make him listen to my apology and see what he has to say for himself?

  My stomach feels sick just thinking about it. “I’ve got to go to work for a few hours this afternoon,” I say. “Maybe I’ll try stopping by his apartment after that. If he doesn’t talk to me, then at least I’ll know it’s over for good.”

  Monica sighs. “I really thought he was special.”

  “Me too,” I say again. I wipe my clean hands on a towel, then get dressed for work and head out into the cold afternoon.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  My shift is only a couple of hours long, so it goes by quickly.

  I still have this brief moment of hope every time the bell jingles over the door, but it’s always followed by a sinking disappointment when it’s not Judd.

  When I head out, I hear my name on the wind and turn to see Preston walking toward me across the grass.

  I stop and wait for him to catch up to me.

  “Hi,” I say. “How are finals going?”

  He shrugs and sticks his hands into the pockets of his expensive leather jacket. “Courses have been pretty easy this year,” he says. “It’s next semester I’m worried about. Trying to juggle the internship with a full course load is going to be tough.”

  “I’m sure,” I say. Silence falls between us and it strikes me how much we’ve changed in the past month. How much I’ve changed.

  We stand together a few more minutes making meaningless small talk and then he reaches for my hand.

  “I’m really glad you’re still going to the dance on Saturday,” he says.

  I wonder briefly about the blond pony-tail girl I saw him talking to that day last week. I wonder why he isn’t taking her instead. But it’s none of my business, and in some ways, I’m really glad to at least be able to wear the dress I sacrificed so much to pay for.

  Preston leans forward and plants a soft kiss on my forehead. I close my eyes, breathing in his familiar scent. I used to love that scent, but now there’s a different one that trumps this.

  A tear falls down my cheek and I pull away, swiping at it.

  “Bailey—” he starts.

  I press my hand against his chest, stopping him. “Don’t,” I say. “Just let it go.”

  I don’t tell him this tear isn’t for him. I’m crying for someone else. For what might have been if I hadn’t screwed it up.

  And when I look away, I think I’ve imagined him into existence. Judd is standing less than fifty feet away, staring straight at us.

  I almost don’t believe he’s real, but the anger and sorrow on his face is definitely real.

  He turns abruptly and heads toward the science building.

  “I’m sorry,” I tell Preston. “I have to go.”

  “I’ll see you Saturday then,” he says.

  I nod and wave, but take off in a run toward Judd. I catch him just before he hits the steps heading up to the entrance. I have to call his name twice before he finally turns around, and when he does, I’m not quite sure what to say.

  We stand there, just staring at each other for a moment until I find my words.

  “I’ve been calling you,” I say.

  “I know,” he says, swallowing. His eyes dart toward where Preston and I were standing.

  I take a deep breath, wanting so badly to be good at just being honest about how I feel. “Listen, I know I really screwed up the other morning, but you have to understand that I’m still really fresh off a breakup with a guy that I dated for years,” I say.

  This is hard for me. Being direct and honest even when I know some of the things I might say can be hurtful or embarrassing. But I want to try. For him.

  “That night, it was amazing.” I step toward him, but he backs away as if I’m a poisonous snake. The motion rocks me. Disrupts my thoughts. I clear my throat. “I—”

  “I can’t do this,” he says.

  My eyebrows come together in a frown. “Can’t do what?”

  He looks toward where Preston is still standing, talking to a friend. “Is it true the two of you are going to a party together on Saturday?”

  I br
eathe in. “Yes,” I say. “There’s this charity ball the Wrights throw every year.”

  “And you’re going with him? As his date? When were you going to tell me about it?” he asks. He pushes the sleeves of his coat up and shifts his weight.

  “I didn’t think—”

  He holds his hand up and turns his head to the side. “You know what, I don’t want to hear it,” he says. He glances at his watch, his teeth clenched. “I have to go. I’m sorry.”

  “Wait,” I say, chasing after him. “Let’s talk about this.”

  He shakes his head, walking backward toward the door of the building. “I don’t think I have anything left to say to you.”

  His words nail my feet to the concrete steps.

  I can’t move. I can only stare blankly forward as he disappears into the science building, tears streaming down my face.

  I don’t even understand what just happened between us, but it’s obvious he wants nothing more to do with me. My heart cracks and breaks within my chest. I sit down on the steps and lower my head into my hands and cry, mourning the loss of hope.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  The rest of the week, I’m merely going through the motions.

  I finish up my next set of final exams. I go to work. I spend some time in the studio. But all the time in between, I spend staring at the TV like a zombie. I watch all my favorite Christmas specials, but none of them bring me any joy.

  I spend a few nights at my parents’ house, but I can tell they don’t really know how to comfort me. They probably think I’m still messed up about Preston, but this has nothing to do with him.

  When Saturday night finally comes, my mother surprises me with an extra hundred bucks to go to the salon and have my hair and makeup done for the dance.

  “I know you’ll want to look beautiful for Preston,” she says, pulling me into a hug. “Show him what he’s missing.”

  I smile and thank her, but it’s not Preston I want to look beautiful for anymore.

  As I sit in the chair going through this ritual of getting dressed up and perfect for a night out with Preston, I realize just how far I’ve come in the past couple weeks. How much Judd really changed everything for me in such a short time.

  The fact that I used to worry about how I looked and what the label on my dress said so that I wouldn’t feel like less of a person when I got into a limousine with people who were supposedly my friends suddenly strikes me as ridiculous. Having to put on a mask around someone automatically proved they weren’t your true friend, didn’t it?

  I remember the way it felt to be around Judd’s friends. How I didn’t have to worry about anything other than just having fun and being myself.

  That’s what I want in life. That’s the kind of friendship I want to find.

  And the truth is that I don’t know if it’s more my fault or theirs. Did Preston expect me to act that way? Or did I only act that way because I was afraid he wouldn’t like the real me? I put on a mask to try to fool him into believing I was good enough for him. But what if that mask is what ultimately drove us apart?

  You can’t truly love someone who won’t even let you see their face.

  “Oh, honey, you’re ruining your mascara,” the lady cries out. She dabs at my eyes and a couple of her co-workers come over to help fix the mess I’ve made of my face.

  “I’m so sorry,” I say. I blink and breathe in through my nose, pushing my sad thoughts out of my head so I don’t make this worse than it already is.

  “It’s okay sweetheart,” she says. “We’ll get you fixed up in no-time so you can look perfect for your special man tonight.”

  I force a smile as the women wipe under my eyes and go to work replacing my makeup. But inside, all I can think about is that the one man I want to be with thought I looked perfect with tousled hair and no makeup in sight.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  I park in a guest spot outside Preston’s apartment. I’m running a little bit late and the limousine is already stretched out at the edge of the curb, waiting.

  I glance up toward Judd’s window and for a brief moment, consider making my way up there and letting Preston fend for himself.

  But then I remember the anger on Judd’s face. How he hasn’t called me back or come by to see me to make things right. If he really wanted me, he’s the type of guy who would have fought for me. I know it.

  The fact that he hasn’t so much as bothered to answer the phone tells me all I need to know.

  I walk up the steps to Preston’s apartment, my body shivering in the cold. The sun hasn’t even gone down yet and already it’s freezing. I hesitate at the doorway, making sure my mask is firmly in place before I walk inside.

  My group of friends is standing in the living room, drinks in hand. They all turn as I walk through the door and I take a deep breath, then smile.

  “Hi everyone, sorry I’m late,” I say.

  Preston crosses to me. “I’m glad you’re here,” he says. “The limo’s waiting, so if everyone’s ready, let’s get going.”

  There’s a flurry of activity as everyone downs their drinks, grabs their bags and coats and heads for the door. On the way down, Krystal loops her arm in mine.

  “Bailey, we’ve missed you so much,” she says. “What have you been up to? How come you haven’t come out with us?”

  I force a smile. I don’t mention that I’ve been completely devastated and heart-broken for the past month and that I would have really appreciated one friend giving me a call or stopping by to see if I was doing okay.

  Instead, I just say, “I’ve been working so much lately,” I say. “And studying. My finals were ridiculous this year.”

  She rolls her eyes. “How hard can art finals really be?” she asks.

  I grit my teeth, but keep my face calm. Normally, I would have laughed off her comment. I maybe would have thrown in some self-deprecating humor to top if off. Now, though, it just pisses me off. Doesn’t she realize how that makes me feel?

  “Well, you know I do take more than just art classes,” I say. “Besides, I’d like to see you try to paint a self-portrait. Let’s see how well you do.”

  Her hand slips out of my arm and she clears her throat. “Oh, well, gosh, I didn’t mean anything by that,” she says. “Of course you take more than just art classes.”

  Krystal and Summer look at each other, their eyes widening and heads tilting to the side. I know that’s silent speak for “What’s gotten into her?”

  “Your dress is gorgeous,” Summer says once we’re inside the limo. She holds her glass out while Preston pours champagne. “Where did you get that? I looked everywhere for that exact color of red.”

  “Thank you,” I say, smoothing out my skirt. “I got it at June’s. She pulled it off the floor for me so no one else would have it this year.”

  Summer’s eyebrows go up at the mention of one of Atlanta’s priciest boutiques. “I adore it,” she says.

  I can see the admiration glowing in her face.

  Two months ago, I lived for these moments. I would have basked in her praise, feeling like I belonged here simply because I was wearing the right kind of dress.

  Now, I feel empty. This moment is completely devoid of meaning because I know that there are more important things in life than dresses and impressing people who only put value in material possessions.

  The fact that I realized this too late is what kills me.

  I wish I had a second chance with Judd. I wish I could tell him that I’m ready to face my fears and be honest about my feelings if he would just give me the chance.

  I stay quiet for most of dinner and by the time we finally get to the Wright’s house and walk into the beautiful ballroom, I’m tired and wishing I could go home early. The room is so gorgeous, it takes my breath away and part of me is glad I didn’t miss seeing it. The Wrights really outdid themselves this year. Instead of the normal, boring black and white ball, this year’s crowd is full of colorful reds and greens and burg
undies. The tree set up in the far corner is massive and beautifully decorated in gold and burgundy bows.

  If I wasn’t so sad and out of place, I’d be in awe of the beauty of this night.

  Preston takes my hand and leads me toward his sister.

  “Bailey, it’s so good to see you,” Penny says. She has a hand resting absently on her belly and I smile.

  “You look so happy,” I say. I hug her. “Congratulations on the baby.”

  “Thank you,” she says. She radiates happiness and love. “I’m really glad you could come tonight. It’s a really important night for Mason and I. Did Preston tell you about the charity?”

  I shake my head. “What did your mom choose this year.”

  Penny shakes her head and touches my arm. “Would you believe she let me arrange everything this year?” she asks. “I got to choose the charity. Rachel’s Kids is a new organization Mason and I started this Fall in honor of his sister.”

  “I didn’t realize Mason had a sister,” I say.

  “It’s a long story,” Penny says. She lifts her gaze and waves.

  I follow her eyes to the couple approaching us and my heart sinks deep into my stomach. I try to swallow, but there’s a lump in my throat that won’t let up.

  Leigh Anne has her arm linked with a gorgeous guy in a tux. She looks as beautiful as ever with her wavy blond hair pulled up on the sides with crystal clips that shine in the light. I can hardly look at her without feeling guilty, and I’m really glad Preston is off talking to his dad instead of standing at my side right now.

  “Hi Leigh Anne,” I say, my smile tentative. I wish I could somehow tell her I was sorry for her hurting her so long ago. I wish I could tell her that I’m trying to change, but this isn’t the time or the place.

  “Hi Bailey, have you met Knox?” she asks.

  I hold my hand out to him and he shakes it. They look very happy together, which only makes me feel more alone than ever. I’m surrounded by people who have found their perfect match and I’ve done nothing but ruin every single relationship I was ever lucky enough to be a part of.