Christmas in Cupid Falls

by Holly Jacobs

  “Malcolm, that’s a lovely offer, but I don’t know if I’m ready to do a Movie Monday without Val. I—”

  “My mother would love that we carried on the tradition,” he said. “And I’ll let you pick the movie.”

  “Your mom and I always took turns,” she said.

  He wanted her to go out with him. He wanted to spend time with her. If he’d met her in Pittsburgh, he’d be asking her out now. There was something about Kennedy . . . he didn’t think whatever it was that attracted him to her was the fact that she carried his child, or that his mother and grandfather loved her. Or even that she was a competent, successful businesswoman. It was simply Kennedy herself.

  “That’s nice that you and Mom took turns choosing movies. We’ll do that, too. You pick this one, and I’ll pick the next.”

  “There won’t be many. You’re going to have to go back to Pittsburgh eventually. That’s your home. This is mine.”

  As she said the words, he realized she was wrong. “I may live in Pittsburgh now, and someday I could live somewhere else, but Cupid Falls will always be home. I don’t know if I realized that until now, but it is.”

  He glanced around the restaurant. Tavi spotted him and glared at him. A few others did as well. “Despite the fact I’m currently persona non grata, the people of Cupid Falls are as much a part of me as Pap and Mom.”

  Kennedy looked as if she was going to argue with him, and fighting with her was the last thing he wanted to do, so he quickly said, “Just come out to the movies with me?”

  “You’re already going shopping with me after work tomorrow. You don’t need to spend tonight with me, too,” she said.

  He shot her his best courtroom smile. The one he used on cantankerous jurors. “It will be difficult, Kennedy, but somehow I’ll manage to spend two entire evenings with you. We’ll simply chalk it up to my amazing strength of character.” He grinned and could see her fighting not to smile as well. He could see her wavering, so he added, “Please?”

  “Fine.” Her smile slipped through as she stood awkwardly. “If I’m going out tonight, I’d better get back to the shop. I have a few more orders to get done.”

  “I’ll pick you up at five?” he asked.

  “Five thirty?” she countered. She threw a bill on the table to cover the drinks.

  She could have said midnight and he’d have agreed. “See you then.”

  He added his own bill to the table. Not that he thought a hefty tip would sweeten Tavi’s mood.

  “Kennedy?”

  They were standing on her porch as she fumbled in her purse for the keys. Why hadn’t she had them in her hand so she could simply hurry into the house? “Yes?”

  “I wouldn’t have pegged you as a blood-and-guts movie fan. You watched most of those scenes through your fingers.”

  “That was for your mom. She said she went to action films with you when you were growing up and she got addicted. I picked it because I thought you’d like it more than the rom-com I thought about.”

  “If we’d sat through a romantic comedy, maybe you’d be inclined to say yes if I asked, Kennedy, will you marry me?”

  “Tell me why you think we should get married. Give me a good reason. Good reasons.”

  This time instead of giving her some lame reason, Malcolm asked, “Why ask why? I’d think the answer was obvious. We’re going to be parents.”

  “Not good enough.”

  “We’re compatible. We could make a go of it. And it would be best for our child to have two loving parents.”

  “Malcolm, I grew up with two loving parents . . . they loved me, and they loved each other. They couldn’t walk by each other without touching. Something as small as just their hands brushing as they passed each other. I know we’ll both love our baby, but we won’t have what they had. Marrying me would be like . . . well, it would be like when Aunt Betty took me in. She did love me . . . in her own way. But when I left for school, she didn’t miss me. I’d been an obligation that she’d met. Someone she grew to love, but never like my parents. I deserve more than that. So do you. So does our child. That’s why I keep saying no.”

  “What if I said I thought we could find what your parents had?”

  She shook her head. “They grew up together. They knew everything about each other. You don’t know me that well.”

  She didn’t say she didn’t know him that well, because she did. Val had shared everything. She knew that he volunteered his legal services to small start-up companies. She knew he worked hard. She knew he loved his mother and grandfather unconditionally. She knew he liked action movies as much as his mother did. Every time they’d see one, Val would be anxious to tell Malcolm all about it.

  But of all the things she knew, she remembered the boy in school who’d seen her, a new girl in the cafeteria, and invited her to sit at his table. Not next to him, not because he was interested in her, but because he was fundamentally a kind boy . . . who’d grown up to be a kind man. The type of honorable man who’d asked her to marry him.

  Those were all reasons for her to be sure he’d be a good father. She wasn’t sure how she’d ever believed that he would walk away from his child. She’d been selfish. Something Mal wasn’t.

  Oh, he was busy and distracted sometimes, but he wasn’t selfish.

  “I’m going to change the subject now,” he informed her.

  She sighed. “So we’re not done talking? Do you want to come in where it’s warm to change the subject?”

  “No. I want to point out that this was our first date, and as such . . .” He didn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t ask her permission. He simply leaned in and kissed her.

  It was a gentle kiss. His body pressed to hers. His lips pressed to hers.

  And for one moment, Kennedy felt as if every girlhood fantasy had come true. She almost wrapped her arms around his neck and deepened the kiss herself, but the baby kicked. She remembered this was no fantasy, and she was no girl.

  Malcolm pulled back. “Was that the baby?”

  “Yes.”

  “May I . . .” He paused. “Never mind.”

  Kennedy knew he had been about to ask to feel the baby kick. The baby’s movements had become so much a part of her life that she’d never stopped to consider that Malcolm had never felt him kick. He didn’t know that the baby got hiccups. The other night they’d been so severe she couldn’t sleep.

  She unzipped her parka, reached out, took his hand, and placed it on her stomach with her hand on top of his. “He likes to kick me right . . .” As if on cue, the baby obliged and kicked.

  “Wow” was all Malcolm said, his voice little more than a whisper, as if he didn’t want to startle the baby.

  “That was my reaction when the baby first started moving, but when he kept me up the other night hiccupping, I thought I was pretty much over it.”

  He looked surprised. “They do that? Hiccup?”

  “Oh, yeah. I think he’s practicing for football or some other sport, the way he kicks.”

  She could tell he was reluctant as he drew his hand back, but he finally did and very formally said, “Thank you for sharing it with me.”

  She turned to go in the house, then stopped. “Malcolm, when you came into my flower shop a couple weeks ago, I thought I knew what I wanted. I wanted you to know about the baby. And after you found out, I wanted you to turn around and head back to Pittsburgh. I wanted you to leave me with him because it would be easier for me. I was selfish, because everything I know about you tells me you’ll be a wonderful father.”

  “What do you want now, Kennedy?”

  “I don’t know what I want.” That was as honest an answer as she could give.

  “Maybe that’s a start,” he said slowly. “I do think we should marry, but I don’t know how we’d make that work. You’ll be here and I . . . won’t.”

>   “Well, then maybe that’s a start, too.”

  “As long as we’re starting, let me try this one more time.” He pulled her back into his arms and kissed her again. This time, it was no gentle introduction. This was the kiss she remembered from almost nine months ago. And for the first time since Malcolm had come home, she let her guard down completely and kissed him back.

  When they finally broke apart, he smiled and said, “Yes, maybe this was a start. And maybe it’s okay if neither of us is sure exactly what we’re starting. See you tomorrow, Kennedy.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  The next morning Kennedy realized she was excited that she’d be seeing Malcolm again tonight to shop for baby furniture. She tried to tamp down the feeling, but it kept bubbling back to the surface. Except last night’s kiss—kisses—couldn’t happen again. Kissing Malcolm would complicate their relationship, which was already complicated enough.

  Working on six arrangements for a funeral helped dampen her enthusiasm for the evening. She hadn’t personally known Steve Stevenson. He was an older farmer who had lived on the outskirts of the county. His son was taking over the farm. He’d called and ordered the family’s arrangements. She loved that his son, Jonah, was taking over the family farm. He’d mentioned he’d be the fourth generation to farm that land.

  What would that be like? She couldn’t imagine having that deep connection to a place. She longed to have roots like that. That’s what she was trying to build for her baby here in Cupid Falls. She wanted her child to walk down the streets and know everyone, not grow up in some impersonal city where no one even made eye contact.

  She wanted them to look at a divot in the floor and know they put it there when they dropped something. To see the tree in the backyard and remember climbing it, or swinging on it when they were young.

  She wanted to tell them the legend of the falls and someday maybe they’d take someone they loved there. Or maybe, like Pap, they’d simply meet someone there and know—heart and soul—that was the person they’d spend their life with.

  She wanted her child to go out in the world and spread their wings but to always come back to Cupid Falls and have it feel like coming home.

  The bell rang, and like Pavlov’s dogs, Kennedy automatically put her clippers down and put her fantasies for her child away as she walked out front.

  “Hi, Mayor,” Jenny Murray said with none of her normal bubbliness.

  There was something in her tone, in her eyes, that made Kennedy ask, “Jenny, what’s wrong?”

  “I came in to order some flowers from everyone at The Cupboard for Mr. Stevenson’s funeral.”

  “Were you close to him?” she asked, thinking that might be why Jenny seemed so upset.

  Jenny shook her head. “He used to come into the restaurant. I’ve waited on him. He was a very nice man.”

  “So I repeat, what’s wrong?”

  Jenny teared up. “I downloaded some do-it-yourself divorce papers and sent them to Wade. He’s working in Ohio. Only an hour away, but he hasn’t seen the kids, or even talked to them on the phone. He called me, furious, and said if I get a divorce, he’s filing for sole custody of the kids.”

  “I don’t understand,” Kennedy said. “If he’s left you, why wouldn’t he want a divorce?”

  “He thinks if we stay married, things can go on like they’ve been. He doesn’t have to send any money for the kids. And he said I’m the best dating tool he’s ever had. Women can’t get too serious about a married man. But I think mainly he’s afraid if we’re divorced, I’ll take him to court. He’d have to pay child support and he doesn’t want to do that.”

  Tears welled up in Jenny’s eyes. “I should never have married him. I was only eighteen when I got pregnant with Timmy, and my family insisted. Wade was working at Dad’s garage. It was a twenty-first-century shotgun wedding. The next year we had Lenny, then Ivy. I felt stuck. I think the best thing Wade Murray ever did was leave me. But I’ll stay married to him if that’s what it takes to keep my kids.”

  “What can I do?” Kennedy asked.

  “Nothing, Mayor. Really. I don’t think I’ll ever want to date another man, much less marry one. Marrying someone is a leap of faith. You’re saying you trust them to catch you when you take that jump. Wade never caught me.”

  Kennedy didn’t want to see that lowlife Wade Murray take advantage of Jenny’s love for her kids. “You should talk to Malcolm. He could help.”

  “If I had money for a lawyer, it wouldn’t be for some slimy deadbeat like Mal.”

  Seeing sweet, sunny Jenny come into the shop so upset had been a shock, but hearing her talk about anyone like that was an even bigger shock. “Jenny, what on earth did Malcolm ever do to you?”

  “It’s not me, it’s you. Everyone in town knows, Kennedy,” she said with unexpected ferocity. “And we all think it’s perfectly rotten of him to get you pregnant and leave you to deal with things on your own. Tavi said she kicked him accidentally”—she air quoted the word—“the other day. I told her I would have dropped his coffee on him.” She paused a moment and added, “Hot coffee,” just to make her intentions known.

  Of all the scenarios Kennedy had imagined with her whole situation, the town’s anger toward Malcolm hadn’t even made the list. She didn’t know what to do about it. “Jenny, first off, you, more than anyone, should know that marrying for a baby’s sake never works.”

  Rather than softening Jenny, the reminder of her soon-to-be ex made her look more fierce. “I’m not talking about marrying, I’m simply talking about supporting you. You’ve gone through your whole pregnancy on your own. Helping out Pap with Mal’s business and dealing with your own, plus being mayor. Where was he? In Pittsburgh, that’s where. That’s how it is with men. They have no problem dumping everything on women.”

  Kennedy shook her head. “There was no dumping between me and Malcolm. I didn’t tell him until he came home two weeks ago. Actually a bit less than that. And ever since, he’s tried to help me, whether it was cooking Thanksgiving dinner for me, feeding me leftovers, offering to shop for the baby and set up the nursery for me . . .”

  It wasn’t simply that he asked her to marry him; he’d stepped up and tried to help where he could. And it wasn’t even tangible things like cooking. There was the house. Every time she went home and saw it reflecting more her style than Aunt Betty’s, it was because of him. Because of his suggestion to make it more her, to start making it look like her home, rather than someone else’s.

  He’d made her feel more at home at the house than she’d ever felt.

  “Listen, I’m going to ask Malcolm to talk this over with you because he’s the best lawyer I know. He graduated top of his class and he’s won every case he’s worked on so far.” She held up a hand. “And before you say something about him bragging, I heard that all from Val and Pap, not Malcolm. He’s not only good, he’s the best.”

  She switched topics. “And I’m going to ask you to do something for me in return.”

  “Anything, Kennedy. I hope you know that.”

  “I need your help putting out this particular fire. I’d appreciate it if you’d spread the word that Mal didn’t know anything about my pregnancy until he got home for Thanksgiving. Seriously, he didn’t even know I was pregnant, much less pregnant with his baby. He’s offered to marry me and I said no, but he’s staying in town for a while to help me get ready for junior here.” She patted her ginormous stomach, hoping the reminder of the baby would soften Jenny’s feelings toward his father. “We’re going shopping for baby furniture tonight. Does that sound like something a deadbeat dad would do?”

  “No,” Jenny said slowly.

  “Malcolm has been nothing but honorable. If you could spread the word, I’d appreciate it.”

  Jenny seemed to consider what Kennedy had said for a moment, then slowly nodded. “I will.”

  “A
nd if Malcolm agrees, will you go see him for advice?” Kennedy knew she didn’t need to worry about him agreeing. He would say yes because she asked. She knew that as sure as she knew her own name.

  “Yes, I’ll talk to him.” Jenny reached out and hugged Kennedy. “Thank you, Kennedy. For everything.”

  Kennedy patted Jenny’s back.

  Jenny pulled back and Kennedy said, “In the meantime, why don’t we call Jon and let him know what’s going on with Wade? As a cop, he’ll know what to do if Wade shows up.” Kennedy didn’t say it, but she was worried. She’d never liked Wade Murray. He’d flirted with her more than once while he was married to Jenny and she had no respect for the man. She wouldn’t put it past him to show up and simply take the kids. And since he was still married to Jenny, Kennedy didn’t think there was any legal reason he couldn’t. But Wade struck her as a coward, so if Jon was around, he probably wouldn’t do anything. And she was sure Malcolm could do something so that he didn’t have the right to.

  “I’m seeing Malcolm tonight and I’ll ask him. If he can’t, I’m sure he’ll know someone who can.”

  “I can’t afford much, Kennedy,” Jenny admitted.

  She brushed Jenny’s concerns about money aside. “That is the least of your worries. We’ll figure that out. Right now, you go call Jon, and I’ll talk to Malcolm and get back to you tomorrow morning.”

  “Thank you.” Jenny started toward the door and then turned around. “I’ll tell everyone about Mal, like you asked, but know if it comes down to him or you, I’m on your side. And if you need anything at all, you just holler.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I’d like to think we’ve always been friends,” Jenny said slowly.

  Kennedy nodded. “That’s how I think of you.”

  “Well, they say the difference between a friend and a good friend is when you tell a friend a man’s done you wrong, they commiserate. When you tell a good friend, they ask where you want to bury the body.” She offered Kennedy a small smile. “If you need me to help bury the body, you simply have to say so.”