by Jenny Hale
“And who’s Preston—your father mentioned him.”
“Preston Meade. He’s a banker, but he can play the guitar like no one I’ve ever heard before, and his voice is amazing.”
“A musical banker,” Charlie said, the corners of his mouth turning up ever so slightly, like they had when he was on Amos’s porch. It was as if he wanted to enjoy himself but he wouldn’t allow himself to for some reason.
“Yes,” she said, as they walked along the covered porch. She hardly noticed the cold, or the fact that Uncle Joe must have shoveled it. She was too busy wondering what was going through his head. He was so perplexing. She observed the creases at his eyes, evidence that there used to be laughter in them, and the kind look he allowed every now and again when he caught her eye… Who was that boy she’d met so long ago now? What kind of man had he become? “Would you like to come with us?”
“Ah, I don’t know…” he said, coming to a stop outside 1B. “I was up late with the repairs, and it’s your family time…”
“It’s not just our family. The whole town is there. But if you’re tired, I understand.” Scarlett couldn’t help her disappointment. She couldn’t stand the fact that he was alone all the time, and, while she wasn’t thrilled with the circumstances under which it had happened, she was glad that Charlie was staying at White Oaks now. Maybe if she could get him in a more festive atmosphere, he’d open up like he started to at the coffee shop.
She slid the key in the lock and pushed open the door, remaining on the porch as the buttery radiance of lamplight shone out from the room. Gran always turned on the lamps in the empty rooms at dusk, giving the inn a warm glow. Charlie walked in and looked around, leaving the door open, so Scarlett waited to see what he wanted her to do next. He lifted out one of the chocolate bars from the Christmas basket that Aunt Alice had been helping to deliver to each room when Scarlett and her father had arrived.
“Is there anything I can get you?” she asked.
He shook his head, running his hand along the crisp duvet. “No…” He turned toward the doorway where she stood. “I have more than I need, thank you.”
Hopefully more than he needed was a good thing. She prayed that it meant he immediately felt comfortable and cozy in the space. Against the soft, delicate décor of the inn, he looked more haggard than he had at Amos’s. He seemed exhausted.
“Are you sure you won’t join us? I’d like you to come,” she offered.
Her last statement had stopped him in his tracks, his hands now still by his sides, interest all over his face. But then it disappeared. “Why?”
“What?” His question took her by surprise, but from what she knew of him so far, it probably shouldn’t have.
“Why do you want me to go? You don’t know me.” He was defensive.
She thought they’d gotten past that. “I might get to know you if you’d go out with us tonight.”
“I doubt that,” he said quietly. He broke eye contact and pulled his suitcase over to the bed, unzipping it.
“You doubt it?”
Freezing now as she stood on the open porch, she came into the room and shut the door behind her. It was forward of her to come into his personal space, but they’d spent enough time alone at Amos’s that she didn’t feel uncomfortable. Two could play at this being-blunt game. “If you doubt that I won’t be able to know you better after a night out with us, that’s your fault.”
The wall he was so good at erecting came sliding back up. He opened a drawer and started unpacking his clothes from the suitcase.
“Please don’t do that,” she said, pulling back, her tone more sensitive. She didn’t want to be snappy with him. She wanted the exact opposite.
He shut the drawer. “Do what exactly?”
“Shut down.”
He spun around and the intensity from their first meeting flashed in his eyes. “Maybe you don’t need to know me because I might not be the person you want me to be.”
Scarlett felt the confusion slither across her face and she couldn’t straighten it out. “I don’t want you to be anyone. It’s Christmas and you’re all by yourself. I just thought you might like to have a little fun, that’s all.” She put herself between Charlie and his suitcase, demanding his attention. “You deserve to have a nice Christmas.”
He withdrew right in front of her, making her scramble to figure out what she’d said wrong.
“No, I don’t.” Charlie ran his hands down his face and then back up to his temples as if a headache were forming.
“You don’t deserve a Christmas?” she asked, completely baffled.
“No.”
Scarlett had no idea what had happened to Charlie to make him think that, but she had to believe her gut feeling, and the memory of that one day so long ago. He was a good person; she knew it deep down. Nobody should feel like they don’t deserve Christmas. He was hurting and clearly masking that hurt with abrupt behavior. He was pushing her away when he so clearly needed someone around him. He wouldn’t keep letting her in unless that was the case. It was pretty clear to her that he was fighting it.
“Look,” she said, allowing her affection to show, “I won’t pressure you. Get some rest. I’ll be waiting at six o’clock in the main living room. I’ll stay five minutes and then leave for The Bar. How your holiday goes this year will be your decision. You can’t move forward from whatever it is that’s eating at you unless you take a step. And I’m giving you an opportunity right now to take that step. Your call.”
He didn’t say anything, but she could see thoughts crossing his mind.
With a little wave, she let herself out to give him some time alone. She headed back into the main house with more questions than before, feeling even further from her original purpose for going to Amos’s this morning.
Eight
“Do you like the red boot or the black one?” Heidi asked, alternating from one foot to the other, wearing two different boots, and bending her thin legs at the knee to get Scarlett’s opinion.
Scarlett and Heidi had gotten ready to go to Christmas carol night together. Scarlett enjoyed having family around. Heidi had gone down to Scarlett’s room and tried on everything in Scarlett’s suitcase, convinced she had nothing to wear despite the fact that Heidi’s suitcase looked as if she’d packed for a small army.
Scarlett squinted one eye to imagine both feet in the same shoe. Heidi was youthfully stunning with her dewy skin blushed just slightly, her long dark curls cascading down her back to her tiny waist, her form-fitting jeans showing off the womanly curves she’d developed in the last year.
“I like the black one,” Scarlett said.
Heidi pursed her lips. “I should probably wear different jeans then.” She dove into her suitcase, rifling through the mass of clothing. “I’ll be a few minutes after you,” she said. “When you go downstairs, will you tell everyone that I’ll be down in a second? I need to call Michael.”
“Are you sure you need to call him right now?” Scarlett asked, brushing her hair one last time and checking her reflection in the mirror before she went downstairs.
“Yes, I’m breaking up with him.”
Scarlett stopped brushing her hair in surprise. “Oh, Heidi, are you okay about it?” She set the brush down and walked over to her cousin.
“Being here is helping me get clarity about our relationship, and I don’t think it’s going anywhere. With college next year, I don’t know where I’ll be… Yesss!” Heidi said, yanking a pair of jeans from under her pile of clothes.
“Just go with your gut,” Scarlett offered. “Trust your gut in everything you do, and it won’t lead you the wrong way.”
Heidi looked up. “You’re so right…” She stood up with the second pair of jeans in her hand, staring into the distance. “I do need to go with my gut.” She came to and slipped her boots off for her wardrobe change.
“Come get me if you need me,” Scarlett said. “I’ll be downstairs.”
The main living room was em
pty, with the exception of three guests who’d taken photos in front of the Christmas tree. Scarlett offered to snap one of all of them, to their obvious delight, and then they’d left, headed for dinner, they’d said.
It was 6:04. Heidi had managed to get herself together in time to catch the group as they left for The Bar, and they’d all piled into cars, leaving Scarlett to drive Gran’s car. Scarlet sat on the edge of the large sofa with her coat and scarf draped across her lap, the last one to leave.
Gran always let Scarlett use her car when she visited, and since Gran had gone with Uncle Joe, Scarlett would use it tonight. She was hoping that Charlie would show up so she wouldn’t have to drive it on the dark roads alone, but he hadn’t come through the door. Not yet. She waited, her eyes darting between both entrances to the room.
6:05. She’d said she’d only wait until then.
Her shoulders slumped in disappointment. She didn’t know why she thought Charlie would come. He hadn’t done anything to make her think he would. She remembered what he’d said about not deserving Christmas, which seemed so preposterous that she couldn’t even understand what he meant. What decent person shouldn’t have a Christmas? She considered going down to his room, but thought better of it. She’d told him where to meet her and given him the choice. There was no need to try to convince him now. It was too late. With a deep breath, she got up and slid her coat on, tying her scarf around her neck.
Scarlett turned around to leave and stopped still, happiness warming her like a cup of Christmas hot cocoa.
“I’m late,” Charlie said, standing in the doorway. He was clean-shaven, his hair combed, and he had on a navy sweater and jeans. He’d never looked quite like that before; he was jaw-droppingly handsome. “I slept a little longer than I’d meant to. I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine. I’m glad you’re here.” She had to work not to show the enormous smile that wanted to crawl across her face.
“I’m happy you waited. And that you invited me.”
“I’d hoped you’d come,” she admitted. His presence tonight caused her honesty to slip out even though she was trying to play it cool.
That kind look that Charlie had allowed a few times surfaced.
“We have to take Gran’s car. It’s either that or the tractor. They’re about equal in size,” she said with a laugh, making him smile in return.
Charlie looked down at her, his expression softer. “Show me the way.”
The crowd was already rowdy when Scarlett and Charlie arrived at The Bar. Preston was on the small stage at the back, the edge of it lined with poinsettias and a glittering Christmas tree full of gifts to the side. He sat on a stool, his guitar in hand, singing an original tune. The song was bluesy with a great beat that made her want to forego her chair and dance between the tables.
“He’s talented,” Charlie said into her ear so she could hear him over the music. “And you say he’s a banker?”
By the look of Preston’s frayed jeans, the worn condition of his square-toed boots, and the tattoo peeking out from his rolled sleeve, it probably did seem odd. “Yep,” she answered, watching him perform. “He’s in the loans department.”
Preston’s gaze flickered over to Loretta and then away, warming Scarlett. Preston and Loretta’s friendship had a unique harmony. Even though Preston avoided her, there was an unsaid connection between the two of them that was undeniable. It was as if he accepted the fact that she could be pushy and overly open, and he didn’t mind. There was a sort of rhythm to their cat-and-mouse game.
Loretta was sitting next to another woman, presumably her cousin Sarah, at a table by the stage, right in the center of the front row, and Scarlett’s family had pulled two tables together next to them. Her dad had caught sight of Scarlett and was waving them over.
“Glad to see you two made it! The Christmas carols are about to start,” Blue said when Scarlett and Charlie reached the table. She waved to Preston and he nodded hello as he strummed his guitar. Charlie pulled out a chair for Scarlett and then sat down beside her.
Even with all the sound in the room, Riley and Mason were playing checkers with Aunt Alice coaching loudly, while Uncle Joe listened to Heidi who was animatedly talking over the music, and Aunt Beth was helping Gran scoot her chair up to the table. Scarlett took it all in. This was one of her favorite nights. They ate pub food, sang until their throats hurt, and spent loads of time together, all while enjoying the Christmas carol hunt.
“Hey, y’all.” Preston’s deep voice echoed from the speakers on the stage when he’d finished his last song. “All the prizes are hidden somewhere in this room, and we’re about to begin the Christmas caroling. Everyone ready?”
“Yes!” cried Loretta, the loudest of all, before tipping her head toward Sarah.
Preston grinned at Loretta but then quickly looked back out at the rest of the crowd, and Scarlett wondered how much he actually enjoyed her attention. “Here’s your first carol,” he said. “It’s appropriate for the weather tonight.” He strummed slowly on his guitar and began singing the song “Walking in a Winter Wonderland.”
The crowd was silent as they listened for clues. Blue frantically scratched the words onto a pad of paper at the table: sleigh bells, lane, bluebird… Scarlett knew the lyrics by heart so she wasn’t taking notes. Instead, she was busy scanning the room for possible hiding places. Cappy was excellent at coming up with the most inconspicuous locations to hide the prizes, but he was no match for Scarlett who had managed to win something every year. She wasn’t about to let her winning streak end. She zeroed in on a few places, gauging the fastest route to reach each one of them.
“Start your hunt!” Preston said when he’d finished the song, setting his guitar down to watch as everyone began looking for the prize. Loretta and Sarah stood up, Loretta leading her cousin to the stage. The fondness in Preston’s eyes became more restrained when he regarded Sarah. He shook her hand, however, and offered her a warm smile. Amusement wiggled through Scarlett as she watched the exchange—Preston had nowhere to escape this time. Loretta had cornered him.
A few people roamed the bar, following their ideas for leads from the lines of the song, looking under beer mats, behind doors, and beneath chairs.
“What do we do?” Charlie asked, leaning over to Scarlett, his soft, shaven face in her line of vision, those dark eyes inquisitive, filling her with nervous energy.
“Something in the song tells us where the prize is,” she explained. “We have to see if we can figure it out before anyone else does.”
Scarlett’s dad got up and inspected a blue concert poster on the wall but came up empty. Aunt Alice was looking under her menu. Heidi and Joe had raced over to the door, and were now peering up at the frame of it.
“I might know. Come with me,” Scarlett said to Charlie.
The two of them got up from their chairs and Scarlett led them to the old jukebox in the corner. She glanced all around it and then looked inside at the records. Excited, she tugged on Charlie’s sleeve and pointed to the record single of “I Will Always Love You” by Dolly Parton—taped to it was something.
Charlie peered down at it. “What does it say?”
“Do you have fifty cents by chance?”
Charlie rummaged around in his pocket and pulled out a few coins, opening his hand to offer them to Scarlett. She plucked two quarters from his palm and put them into the jukebox. Then she hit the button for Dolly Parton. “The bird sang a love song, remember?” she said. “That was the clue in ‘Walking in a Winter Wonderland,’ I’m nearly sure of it.”
The record slid along the steel shaft and fell flat into its position. As it started to spin, the first Christmas carol card was visible. “I think we found it!” she said, tugging on Charlie’s arm. He leaned in closer to view it, putting his arm around her as he did, and suddenly Scarlett needed a glass of water, her mouth drying out. Even though she wanted to stand close to him like that for a little longer, the prize was on the line. “Go get Cappy!” s
he said. Charlie pulled away from her, making her immediately wish he hadn’t. She liked how he felt against her.
Charlie strode over to Cappy and brought him to the jukebox.
“Lucky lady!” he said, patting her on the shoulder and then motioning to Preston. “You two can head up on stage! You’ve just won the first prize!”
Scarlett clapped her hand over her mouth, but she didn’t have a lot of time to consider her luck because Preston was calling her to the microphone. She grabbed Charlie by the arm, taking him with her.
“We have a winner!” Preston said, just before he took one of the gifts from under the tree behind him. It was wrapped in silver paper and tied with what seemed like hundreds of thin dark green ribbons, their tails trailing down past his hands as he passed her the gift. It was light in weight and felt almost empty.
Scarlett offered it to Charlie to unwrap, but he insisted she do the honors. She tugged on the ends until the ribbon fell free in her hand and then tore the paper from the box, lifting the lid to find a single document nestled in tissue paper inside.
“Tell us what you’ve won,” Preston said, his voice coming through the speakers loudly before he scooted the microphone stand toward her so her answer could be heard.
The crowd buzzed with excited chatter, eager to hear the first prize of the night.
Scarlett read the paper. “Oh my!” She read the paper again. “I won a trip for two to the Bahamas!”
Sue from the coffee shop called from the back corner, “You can thank our generous donor for that one! I used the money I mentioned earlier to donate the trip.”
Scarlett didn’t have to guess because Charlie was already putting two and two together. He huffed out a surprised laugh as he looked at Scarlett, clearly happy that she’d won something so lovely from his donation.
“To the anonymous donor, Scarlett thanks you, I’m sure,” Preston said. “Now, let’s take a little dinner break and I’ll tell you the next clue after I play a few original songs. But before I do, I’m getting a drink.” Preston slipped the mic back into its stand and hopped down the stairs over to the bar, slowing down as he passed Loretta. Sarah had stepped away and Loretta was talking a mile a minute to Preston, but he was politely listening to her. Scarlett saw him motion to the bar and then head that way, leaving Loretta looking around the room for Sarah.
