Glory Falls

by Janine Rosche

  The grand hall, typically used for weddings and such, was breathtaking with its timber beams crisscrossing the ceiling and stone columns separating large windows. Not too far into the room, Thomas stood near some tables set up with coloring pages and crayons. Over one shoulder, he carried a preschool-aged girl. Another girl, around the same age, hugged his leg. An older boy jumped, trying to grasp hold of Thomas’s free shoulder to pull him down. The children’s smiles couldn’t compare with the look on Thomas’s face. Pure joy. Who was this man?

  It blessed Blue’s soul . . . until she saw at whom his exuberant grin was directed. A young woman with chestnut hair pulled back in a matching ponytail to the little girls’. In her arms, she held an infant, and she rocked her whole body side to side while the child fussed. The woman motioned behind her, leading Thomas to release the other children. He directed them to the tables, and they listened to him obediently. Free of the climbing kids, Thomas reached for the baby. He was stiff, not exactly fluent in baby language, it was clear. But he was comfortable enough to hold the child against his chest. The baby’s mother fixed a bottle over the top of a diaper bag, then returned. She reached for the child, but Thomas took the bottle instead. After repositioning the child, he began to feed the baby. While the woman tended to the other children, Thomas stared at the child’s face intently.

  A pin pricked Blue’s lungs, letting her breath slowly drain from her.

  When he finally lifted his eyes from the child, his focus landed on Blue. He moseyed over, still holding the woman’s child.

  “I didn’t realize you were coming over this early,” he said.

  “I wanted to see a fireman in action. I didn’t realize it involved so much bottle-feeding.”

  “A perk of the job.”

  “He’s cute. How old?”

  “I think he’s um, six weeks or so? Andrea, how old is Thomas?”

  Thomas?

  The woman approached, sizing up Blue with each step. She placed one hand on Baby Thomas’s head. “Six weeks.”

  “Andrea Henley, this is Cecelia Walker, but I call her Blue. We’ve been best friends since we were what? Four?”

  “Uh, yeah.”

  “Interesting. He hasn’t told me about you.” The woman brushed her child’s hair with her thumb as she leaned against Thomas’s side. The painted fingernails of her other hand curled over Thomas’s shoulder.

  Well, then . . . Either Thomas had moved on quick after Val or this woman was staking her claim. Blue guessed the latter was way more likely. A sense of possessiveness stretched Blue to her full height. If this woman wanted to play this way, Blue would give her a fight. She’d had enough Ilsa Vonns for one lifetime.

  “Thomas, take your time here. We’ll have all evening to spend together.” Blue walked away, back to the front door, making sure to grab a candy cane from Spencer on the way out.

  A few minutes later, while Andrea and her four children stood in the long line to see Santa, Thomas caught up with Blue. “You ready to take a Christmas Stroll?”

  “Of course.”

  A few minutes later, they wandered along Canyon Street. Christmas carols rang out, their bells jingling her heart. That might have been due to how attentive Thomas was to her as they walked. It was as if he scoped out each step before she took it, and measured up each passerby in case they decided to steal her purse or simply breathe wrong in her direction. And whenever space got tight, he’d fall in step behind her. Hunter always led the way through a parking lot, into a restaurant, or on a red carpet, sometimes leaving her behind entirely. His thoughts were always on himself. She was an afterthought even when she had Ella with her.

  “Tell me about Andrea.”

  Thomas searched her face. Then, for the first time since they’d begun their walk, his head stooped. “Uh, she’s . . . um . . .”

  “Are you blushing?”

  “No, I’m not.” His aggravated tone let her know she’d overstepped.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

  “You know that family that I, uh, saved from the fire in the forest?”

  Blue grabbed his arm. “That was the family you saved?” Her voice caught the attention of the families nearby. “Her and her four children?”

  “Keep your voice down, Blue. Yeah, but it was only three children. She was pregnant with Thomas at the time. Praise God the smoke inhalation didn’t hurt him in utero.”

  “No wonder,” Blue said, restarting their walk.

  “Go on.”

  “No wonder she’s enamored with you. You saved not only her but also her children. Where’s her husband?”

  “Her boyfriend took off. They came up here for the spring, but he relapsed into drugs. She hasn’t heard from him since July. Left her without money, without a job, and without any familial support.”

  “And you just met them because of the fire?”

  “Not exactly. I had seen her in the grocery store back in August. The kids were dirty and thin. I followed them away from the store, up to that old home in the forest. I went up to the door and introduced myself. Once she explained her situation, I stepped in.”

  “How?”

  “Groceries. Changing the oil in her van. Buying some clothes for the kids.” Thomas let loose a breath. “I’d been working on getting them into a rental home. The rest of the crew believed the home was unoccupied. And that was why I rushed in.”

  “You’re amazing. Thomas Beck, you’re an angel in disguise.”

  Thomas bristled. “This shop has hot chocolate. Let’s grab some. My hands are cold.”

  Inside, they filled their disposable cups with the watered-down hot chocolate, then began browsing the collection of souvenirs and knickknacks. With the town sitting at the western entrance to Yellowstone National Park, it catered to many tourists, especially during the summer.

  “I was thinking about doing a snowmobiling tour of Yellowstone next weekend if you want to join me. It’ll give you a break from writing.” Thomas picked up a stack of postcards and thumbed through them.

  “Sounds fun, but I’m heading to Germany to see my parents the day after tomorrow.”

  He stilled. “I didn’t know that. How long will you be gone?”

  “Two-and-a-half weeks. Through Christmas.”

  Some of the postcards slipped from his grasp, and he bent to pick them up. Blue joined him on the ground, trying to get to the card stock before the melted snow from shoppers’ boots did. “You don’t have to be so dramatic. If you’re going to miss me, you can just tell me. No need to take it out on the post—”

  “I’ll miss you.” His irises caught the twinkle of Christmas lights, giving his eyes a dancing appearance.

  Blue saw beneath the surface—the glimmering facade—to the steady, deep pools she’d only just begun to wade into. All the more reason why she needed to go to Germany. She was so close to getting back to what she loved. Three more weeks to turn in the screenplay, then she’d be well on her way. Men, especially ones with complicated backstories like Thomas’s, would only cause trouble. “I’ll miss you, too, Thomas.” The words spilled from her lips before she could trap them. Fabulous. Her impulses had won again.

  She’d expected a smile at her admission. But none came. Instead, the shadows beneath his brows only seemed to darken.

  * * *

  * * *

  Once they’d had their fill of strolling for the night, Thomas stood in the lobby of the movie theater, waiting in line for popcorn, two sodas, and Whoppers. Vile things, but Blue had always loved them. Once he got the armloads of snacks and drinks, he returned to Blue’s side.

  She studied a movie poster. It was the one of Hunter and Ilsa, posed in a lover’s embrace. The movie was a remake of Enemy Skies, the 1945 film that starred Hunter’s grandfather Clyde Irving, for whom the awards were named. It was also the movie that had started Hunter and
Ilsa’s affair.

  “Come on, Blue. Don’t look at that.”

  “Just trying to figure out what he saw in her. Other than the five-foot-long legs, perfect figure, and eastern European accent.”

  “He saw a distraction, if I had to guess,” Thomas said. “Besides, she’s got nothing on you.”

  “You’re the best friend a jilted girl could ask for, do you know that?” Blue tore her eyes away from the poster and fixed them on the Whoppers. “Are those for me?”

  “They’re certainly not for me.”

  Blue slipped a hand in her purse and rooted around. “How much was it?”

  “I got it covered.”

  “Oh, Thomas. You’re sweet as chocolate-covered malted milk balls.”

  “Hey, take it back.”

  “Beck and Blue!” A booming voice carried across the lobby, causing them to stop just before entering their theater.

  Robbie led Anabelle and Keira by the hand through the lobby. “I wasn’t expecting you guys here. I’m guessing you aren’t here to see Princess Patty Cake’s Christmas Quest.”

  “Uh, no, but I’m sure that will be as exciting as it sounds.” Blue laughed. “We’re seeing the showing of It’s a Wonderful Life.”

  “Oh, I love that one. We watch it every Christmas Eve.” Keira glanced up at the ceiling, then nudged Robbie, directing his attention upward. “Well, look at that. A conveniently placed mistletoe, right above the two of you.”

  Sure enough, an artificial balled mess of greenery tied with a ribbon and a bell hung directly overhead. Thomas inwardly groaned. He wasn’t a mistletoe type of guy. They all knew it.

  Robbie wouldn’t let that be an excuse, though. “Go on. If you don’t kiss her, someone else will.”

  There was a lot going on in Blue’s eyes. Too much for Thomas to read them clearly. She rolled her lips, hiding them inside her mouth. Just what he thought. But when she released them, he realized she’d merely been wetting them. Did she want him to kiss her?

  Thomas’s stomach acted as if he’d eaten the whole box of candy. “I—I have my hands full.”

  “Then step out of the way.” Robbie stepped forward and put his hands on Blue’s shoulders.

  Thomas imagined himself pulling Robbie’s hands off her and planting an intense, movie-worthy kiss on Blue’s perfect lips. But he didn’t. Instead, the carton of popcorn that he cradled between his arm and his side crumpled.

  Then Robbie kissed Blue smack-dab on the crown of her head. Like a brother. Not the Seven Minutes in Heaven kiss he’d been told about for years.

  “Uh-oh,” Anabelle pointed to the ground at Thomas’s feet. “Thomas spilled his popcorn.”

  Thomas looked down. The carton was empty. Through the cardboard tunnel, he spied five dollars’ worth of yellow and white kernels littering the dark carpet. Smooth.

  “Someone has to kiss Thomas, though,” Keira said.

  Quickly—maybe too quickly—Thomas dropped to his knees. He set down the two drinks, then scooped the trashed popcorn back into the carton, uselessly, as he hadn’t yet secured the bottom of the box. But at least he was out of the kissing zone.

  Despite his efforts, a peck still found his cheek. Anabelle pulled back with a big grin. Since the last time he’d seen her, she’d lost one of her front teeth. Her first one, if he wasn’t mistaken. Had he been too busy, too consumed to notice? Losing a tooth was a big deal in kid world.

  He forced a smile for her sake. “Thanks, Kitty Kat.”

  A pair of pleated black pants, a dustpan, and a broom appeared. “I can take care of that for you, sir,” a gangly theater worker said.

  Thomas grabbed for the two drinks and left the mess, hating that his action added to this guy’s workload on an already busy night. He stood, making sure to take a hearty step back from the troublesome mistletoe.

  “We have to go, or we won’t get seats, Robbie,” Keira said.

  “See ya later. Enjoy the movie.” Blue’s focus lingered on the small but growing family as they headed to another set of theater doors farther down. When she turned back toward Thomas, she didn’t look him in the eye. Was she . . . hurt? Because he hadn’t kissed her?

  “Why don’t you take the drinks and get some seats for us? I’ll get some fresh popcorn.” He held out the two drinks, which she accepted. “You okay?”

  “Just peachy. And hey, if we sit in the back row, absolutely no one will make assumptions about us this time for sure.”

  An awkward laugh surged from his throat. They’d always sat together in the back row. Blue liked that spot best for two reasons. First, she could see the entire screen in all its glory—the nuanced details in the background and how the layers of focus and light added to the existing screenplay. And second, she could talk through the whole film without annoying anyone but Thomas. Then on the opening night of Spider-Man 3, some other high school students saw them sitting back there. After they endured a solid week of rumors and teasing, Robbie finally informed Thomas and Blue why most high school students liked to sit in the back row—no mistletoe needed.

  Throughout the movie, Thomas could feel the tension from the seat next to him. The showing had sold out. With other patrons surrounding them, Blue had to stay mum, which was assuredly killing her movie-talker self. Instead, she communicated through a series of nudges, bumps, and squeezes on his upper arm at every big scene. Thomas didn’t mind. Besides, he didn’t need to hear her talk about how romantic it would be to have a man offer to lasso the moon for a woman.

  So dumb. That wasn’t romantic. Why offer something that wasn’t even possible? Of all the marriages that ended horribly, how many of those men promised to lasso the moon or climb the tallest mountain for the woman? If that’s what it took to get married in the first place, Thomas wanted nothing to do with the whole institution. In his experience, broken promises and unrealistic expectations led to nasty fights and children sleeping in barns. No, thank you.

  Thomas snuck a peek at Blue. What kind of promises had Hunter’s lying lips told Blue when he’d proposed? What grand gesture did he make to show his conditional love? She should be disillusioned by all things romance, but there she sat, soaking it all up like wet popcorn. How long would it be before another Hunter Dean Lawrence type moved in? She was pretty, wickedly smart, funny, and adventurous.

  She had it all, and she deserved it all.

  Further reason why Thomas was right not to kiss her under that mistletoe.

  After the movie, they trekked back to their cars at the lodge. The official hours of the Christmas Stroll had ended, but the streets of the town still buzzed with cheer.

  “I decided something,” Blue said as they waited to cross the road. “You aren’t Mr. Deeds. You’re George Bailey.”

  “How so?”

  “You’re not as nice as Longfellow Deeds.”

  He scoffed. “Tell me how you really feel.”

  “Oh, goodness. You’re nice, but you’re not naive-nice. You do good things for people, sometimes even when they don’t deserve it, but you see people for how they truly are. Not everyone gets a free pass, especially if they’ve wronged someone you love. A person would be better off hurting you than hurting someone in your life.”

  Thomas gave a stiff nod.

  “Because you’re always thinking about others and doing what’s best for them, not you. Like ol’ Building and Loan Bailey. He gave up his dreams so others’ dreams might come true. And he risked his life for his brother and for Clarence. Then, he saved Uncle Billy from going to jail. Uncle Billy, of all people! You are just like George Bailey. I bet everyone in town has a story of how you’ve saved them in some way.”

  “I’ve never saved you.”

  “Maybe not in one grand swoop. But you’re letting me use the story of your life to give me purpose. And you bought me Whoppers. Then back in the theater, you let me have the armrest.”
Blue’s eyes lost their focus. “Do you know how long it’s been since someone’s let me have the armrest?”

  Of course he’d let her have the armrest. He always had in the back row of the movie theater. It was no longer a thought.

  “Don’t act like that wasn’t intentional. You sat through that entire movie in the world’s tiniest seat with your big arms pinned to your side. Why? So I’d have a place to rest my elbow. And because you care about me.”

  If she only knew . . .

  The Walk sign glowed above the crosswalk, and they stepped into the street.

  Her big blue eyes glanced up, their focus now pinned on him. They glistened. With tears? “Knowing someone finds me worthy of the armrest? That saves me more than I could ever say.”

  He searched for the right words. For any words. But there was no time. On her right, a sedan approached the red light too fast, its twin beams waving wildly as its back end fishtailed on the black ice. Still, the brunt of its mass projected directly at Blue.

  Thomas wrapped his arms around her waist and spun her away as fast and as far as he could before losing his footing. The unforgiving sidewalk met his back with a thwack.

  The car skidded to a stop in the middle of the intersection but fortunately didn’t hit anything or anyone.

  Blue lay on top of him, bewildered and breathing sharply.

  “Are you hurt?” he asked.

  “No.” Her breathy answer warmed the spot where his coat collar met his neck.