“I gotta go.”
“You’re so full of it. You’re just upset because of Ben. Stop being so dramatic.”
“No, it’s just I forgot I’m supposed to be home for lunch. You know, parents and Christmas break.”
Jess saw right through the lie, and her eyes narrowed in my direction.
But Sophia was the one who spoke up, either in an attempt to keep the peace or because she genuinely didn’t pick up on the shift in moods. “Right? I keep telling my mom I’m an adult now. I don’t have to follow her rules anymore, but she keeps insisting I do stuff with her.”
“I’ll see you guys.” I walked off as quickly as I could, ignoring the looks from my friends as I left.
Chapter 3
Normally, when we first arrived at the Christmas party, I would be paraded around to my dad’s co-workers and their families. We would talk about my big plans for the future. College, potential majors, anything that screamed accomplishment.
Not tonight.
My dad had reassured me he wasn’t angry, and I believed him, but he didn’t have plans to show me off that night either. I was taking a gap year. A lot of college kids did that. That was the answer we would give people when they asked. Beyond that, I was told to keep things simple. Keep things vague.
My dad might not be upset, but he was embarrassed of me. The realization stung.
I grabbed my Shirley Temple, complete with maraschino cherry, and hid out in one of the empty corners. From there, I had a great view of the entire room. There were several tables set up around the room—white tablecloths, beautiful centerpieces. There was a buffet table on one end, and the gift table on the other. There was even a dance floor set in the middle of the room for later in the evening. Quiet Christmas songs were playing over the speakers in the meantime. I’d heard “I’ll Be Home for Christmas” twice now, and wanted to stick my fingers in my ears until I could go home.
Occasionally, someone would come over to say hi. When they did, I would smile, and we would talk for a couple of minutes before they moved onto someone else. It wasn’t nearly as exhausting as most parties, and it gave me a lot of time to get lost in my thoughts.
School. My friends. Bumping into Ben.
In fact, I’d been so lost in my thoughts, I almost missed the five-minute warning for Dirty Santa.
“Go check out that gift table, folks. I’m sure there’s plenty of fun to be had tonight. And don’t forget that Wild Card. Who will walk away with the coveted gift this year?”
The Wild Card gift.
Every year, the partners would go in for one gift that was meant to be the diamond in the rough. Once time it was a spa day for two, another time it was skydiving. It didn’t matter what it was, everyone wanted it instead of a stocking full of 15 toothbrushes, or toilet paper with “This is the crappiest gift I could find” printed on it.
People started eyeing the gifts, trying to figure out what they would choose. I joined them, bumping into two of my dad’s employees on the way over. People had been drinking, and their lack of fine motor skills was obvious.
The gift table was overflowing with wrapped boxes of all sizes and shapes. There were small envelopes that contained gift cards, probably something like $5 to the jewelry store downtown. As I ran my fingers over the many packages, I was torn between two of them. One was a small box wrapped in emoji paper that had googly-eye stickers stuck to all the smiley faces. I couldn’t imagine anyone over the age of twenty wrapping a gift with that, unless they had a kid. The other was larger and looked like someone had painstakingly drawn different winter scenes on it. I had a feeling my gift was the latter.
“See anything good?” Ben’s voice startled me as he walked up beside me.
“Ben!” I wrapped my arms around his neck.
Laughter rumbled in his chest as he hugged me back. After the way I acted earlier, I was surprised he didn’t push me away. I felt my cheeks warm and was thankful for the dark lighting in the room. When we finally pulled apart, it gave me a chance to look at him. I was still in shock that this was my Ben.
Nope. Just Ben. Not mine.
His brown hair had fallen into his eyes, and I watched as he swept the offending strands out of the way. His mouth curved into a grin as he looked down at me.
“Looks like a good spread this year,” Ben said, tipping his chin toward the table.
“I know, and I’m pretty sure I know which one is mine.”
“Oh, yeah?” The smile on his face still hadn’t fallen.
“The drawings are beautiful. That has to be yours.” I pointed to the gift I had been admiring earlier.
“Maybe there’s another artist here tonight, and that’s a red herring.”
“No way. It’s winter scenes.”
He leaned in. “It’s Christmas. Winter scenes aren’t unheard of.”
“In Florida, they are.”
“Touché, but what about that one?” Ben pointed to a gift with Gator wrapping paper. It was the mascot of UF, the school he was attending.
“No way. You’re better than that!”
He bumped into me playfully. “Oh, yeah?”
Yeah. I wanted to say. I liked him when he was like this. Confident, flirty. He was always so closed off around other people, but not me.
I wanted to keep talking to Ben, but Mr. Gibbons was getting everyone’s attention again. He held a glass jar containing little pieces of paper above his head. “Come one, come all!” His voice boomed out like a performer.
People from the around the room began to move toward the man to pick their numbers, everyone hoping to get number one and dreading every other low number. Ben and I went to our respective families to get in line for our numbers. By the time I made it up, the jar was almost empty. I grabbed my paper and opened it up.
25.
Crap. With such beautiful wrapping paper, there was no way Ben’s gift was going to last long enough for me to choose it. This had never happened before. I always got low numbers and was one of the first to pick a gift. I rejoiced in it, while other people complained. I always got the gift I wanted, and no one ever challenged it.
I wondered what number Ben had on the piece of paper he held in his hands. I watched as he sat down with his parents. Our tables were across the room from one another, but I could still see his face clearly. He held up his paper to show me his number. Like I could read it from so far away. I rolled my eyes and stuck out my tongue. He laughed in response, but the game was starting, and we both looked away from each other to watch.
The numbers were called in order. As they were, different people would go to the table and pick their gift. It started out tame and got rowdier as the Wild Card gift was opened. A 3-night’s stay at a hotel on Anna Maria. For the employees who were lawyers, it wasn’t a big deal. I bet they all had beach condos. We did. However, all of the employees of Gibbons, Brown, and McKee were invited to the yearly Christmas party. For some people in attendance, this would be amazing.
With almost every number called, someone new grabbed the hotel voucher, causing its previous owner to walk to the gift table to grab something else.
Vanessa, a middle-aged receptionist for the main office, had just had the Wild Card stolen when she walked up to the table. My stomach fell when she reached for my gift. A quick glance at Ben confirmed my suspicions. That present, wrapped in winter scenes, was mine.
She opened the paper, tearing it without care. There was no way she could have known each one was an original and not part of a mass-produced design. When the paper fell to the ground, and the present became visible, I was confused. In Vanessa’s lap, sat a box of candles.
Candles.
Not just any candles either, but the cheap plastic kind that were battery operated. They lit up different colors and came in a set of three. The look of disappointment on Vanessa’s face probably mirrored my own. She’d just had the best gift in the room, only to get the worst.
Little did she know, I would be stealing that gift from her for
no good reason. Vanessa didn’t have to give up hope just yet, but I was still upset. I had spent the morning looking for the perfect gift for Ben and then trying to find wrapping paper that would grab his attention. He picked out something that belonged in my grandma’s house.
I lifted my brows at him from across the room, but he simply shrugged his shoulders before leaning back in his chair.
I’d grab those stupid candles because this party, this tradition between Ben and me, was a taste of normalcy. It was home. Comfort.
Ben was comfort.
I couldn’t stop and think about what that meant. I needed to keep my eye on the prize, even if the prize sucked. When number 25 was finally called, I walked slowly over to where Vanessa was sitting.
“I’m stealing this,” I mumbled, while Vanessa’s face lit up.
As she walked away to grab something new, I grabbed the torn paper off of the ground and brought it back to my seat. I could relax now. No one would dare steal a gift from the boss’ daughter. Of course, no one in their right mind would steal these candles regardless of who had them.
I might be safe, but I wanted to watch when Ben’s number was called. My gift still sat safely on the table. I’d wrapped it in the cheapest, most dated, paper I could find. I hoped it would continue to go unclaimed until it was Ben’s turn.
“Number 28.”
Ben got up and walked over to the table. He grabbed the gift I had brought with confidence. It was supposed to be obvious which one was his, but I hated that I had been unsure, while he knew exactly what belonged to him.
When he opened it, he started laughing. His shoulders shook, and the resulting smile was enough to take my breath away. He lifted up the gifts. A very inappropriate coloring book with a cheap set of colored pencils.
“Jordin!” my mother scolded from beside me.
“It’s not that bad," I answered. In all fairness, it was the kind of gift people fought over during this game, but Ben was also off limits. No one ever took our gifts, as if lawyers’ kids couldn’t handle it.
What Ben didn’t lift up, was the nice set of oil pastels I’d also included. It was his favorite medium to work with. Or, at least, it had been the last time I spoke to him.
His lips moved to mouth “Thank you,” and I wanted to throw my dumb candles at his face.
It would have to wait until the game was over.
Chapter 4
I stormed across the room as soon as the game was over, my present in one hand, wrapping paper in the other. “What the hell, Ben? Candles?”
“You’re welcome,” he answered. His lips curved into a smile, despite his obvious efforts not to. “I love my present, by the way. I can’t wait to fill in the pages of my coloring book. Maybe my parents will hang my art of the fridge.”
I laughed, but it sounded forced, even to my ears. “They better not. Their poor housekeeper wouldn’t know what to think.”
“I’m sure she’s seen worse than— “
“Candles?” I interrupted. “Did I severely misjudge something back there?”
“Do you think you did?”
I looked at the wrapping paper I held. “No.”
“Come outside with me?”
I nodded my head and followed him out.
The balcony of the Magnolia building faced one of the city’s many lakes. The sun had recently set, and the glow of the street lamps reflected in the water. The two of us stood outside staring at the lake for several minutes before Ben spoke again.
“It’s not really candles.”
“What?”
“I didn’t want anyone else to see what I got you this year.”
“Wait a second…”
Suddenly, I was tearing at the cardboard box like a woman possessed. Ben didn’t get me candles. Thank goodness!
When I finally got the box opened, I pulled out my real present. A painting. My present from Ben was a painting of Lake Hollingsworth. The sun was setting in the picture, and he’d captured the colors perfectly.
How many times had we sat looking at the lake together? He would drive me home after an art show, but we’d be too caught up in conversation to end the night. I would listen to Ben go on and on about the surprising use of color in this piece or the function of the negative space in another. Everything I knew about art, I learned from Ben.
“This is amazing. You know me better than anyone else.”
“Not lately.” He shrugged. “You’ve never called me back. You barely texted.”
For some inexplicable reason, I started to cry.
“Oh, crap. Jordin, I’m sorry. That sounded awful. I didn’t mean it like that, I just don’t know what happened. We used to talk all the time before you left. And now…” He trailed off.
“It’s wasn’t you.”
He ran his hand through his hair as he searched my face. “Then what was it?”
I sighed loudly. “Ben, I had a really bad semester. I mean, it was awful.” He didn't say anything, so I kept going. “Can I tell you something embarrassing?”
“Always.”
“I’m not going back to school in January. I’m taking a gap year.”
Ben smiled. “A lot of people do that.”
“It’s more than that though.” I covered my face with my hands. “Ugh. So, apparently I get Seasonal Affective Disorder.”
“What’s that?”
I dropped my hands. “They call it SAD. How pathetic is that?”
“It isn’t”
“Yes, it is. I literally couldn’t handle the weather.”
His brows tipped up. “I don’t know what that means.”
Of course, he wouldn’t. He and I had always lived in Florida. “As the days got shorter and colder, I got depressed. I was isolating myself. I even flunked two of my classes. I didn’t know what was going on until my RA told me her suspicions. She called my parents and explained it to them. Before I knew it, we were making plans for me to come home for good.”
“That’s not embarrassing, Jordin.”
“Of course, it is. I feel like such a failure.”
“You’re not a failure. Find a college down here and apply. You can still go to school.”
“Maybe, but my grades are so bad. I don’t know what I’m going to do.”
Ben’s arms wrapped around me. The evening wasn’t cold, but the warmth from his body felt amazing. My own arms wrapped around his waist pulling him closer. He tilted his face closer to mine, his cheek against my cheek. His mouth was near my ear. “Stop,” he said quietly. “You’re overthinking it. You just got home. Give it a week or two, and then we can come up with a new plan.”
“We?”
“You.” Ben cleared his throat. “I meant you could come up with a new plan.”
“I like we.”
“You do?”
“I’ve missed you,” I said into his shoulder. Partly, because I didn’t want to leave the comfort of his arms, and partly because I was too afraid to look at him.
“I’ve missed you too.”
I hadn’t spoken to Ben in months. It was easy to get caught up in my drama tonight, but I realized I didn’t know anything about his life these last few months.
“Do you have a girlfriend?”
“What?” he said, pulling away. “Do you think I would be painting you pictures and holding you like this if I had a girlfriend?”
“I don’t know. Last time I checked, we were friends, Ben. Friends are allowed to comfort each other.”
“Not like this. I’ve always wanted more.”
He had? I hadn't known. Or maybe I had been too concerned with staying at the top of the social ladder to admit it. I knew that was why I had never acknowledged my own feelings. Seeing him now, after such a horrible experience at college, I knew there had always been something between us.
“Do you still?”
“I don’t know if this is the right time for declarations of love.” Ben’s eyes widened. “Not that I’m saying I love you. I just mean, well, you
know what I mean.” He took a deep, shaky breath.
I leaned up on my toes and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “I know what you mean, and I think this is the perfect time for it.”
“Jordin,” he started, but I put my hands on either side of his face and kissed him, stopping any arguments he might make. He didn’t fight it but kissed me like a man who’d been dying without me. When he finally pulled away, his smile was the biggest I’d ever seen.
“Is it horrible that I’m happy you’re back in Florida?”
“No, I’m happy too.”
It was the right thing to say, because he pulled me close for another kiss. And his kisses made me forget, at least for that night, how awful and confusing things were. Maybe it wasn't the sunshine that had been missing from my life, but Ben. It had just taken living several states away for me to realize it.
There would be time for confessing to my friends that I was back in Florida for good, and there would be time for making plans to go back to school. But for now, the only thing I wanted to make time for was this moment with Ben, on the balcony of the Magnolia building, discovering what I’d been missing all along.
About Kayla Tirrell
Kayla has loved to read as long as she can remember. While she started out reading spooky stories that had her hiding under her covers, she now prefers stories with a bit more kissing.
When she gets a chance to watch TV, she enjoys cheesy sci-fi and superhero shows.
Most days, you’ll catch her burning dinner in an attempt to cook while reading just one more chapter.
Kayla lives in the sunshine state with her husband and three boys.
Find me online:
www.tirrellblewrites.com
[email protected]
Also by Kayla Tirrell
River Valley Lost & Found:
All The Things We Lost
All The Things We Found
All The Things We Were
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Home for Christmas Page 2
