Mistletoe at Midnight

by LB Gregg

  “Then go back to Boston.” I buttoned my jacket and pocketing the shopping list. I said, “This is where I live now, Keith. I’m not coming back. Deal with it.”

  Chapter Seven

  Hours later, I trudged through the front door in a pair of Doug Winters’s snowmobile boots. The sleigh bells jingled overhead and I stopped short at the sight of Keith waiting for me. It was like I couldn’t hide. However, with his camel coat buttoned and his Burberry bag on his shoulder, it appeared I wouldn’t have to anymore.

  He didn’t smile as he handed me a red foil-wrapped box. “For Uncle Archie. It’s a carved maple chess set. I thought he’d like to whoop your father in something other than cards.”

  “That’s generous.” And thoughtful. “But you broke the rule again.”

  “Sue me. You can’t get a decent Christmas present for nineteen ninety-nine in St. James Vermont on Christmas Eve—although you probably did.” He glanced at the line of snowmobiles waiting by the barn, and then he stared at his Audi. Clouds covered the sky—it was going to snow. “I wanted to say good-bye.”

  “You’re leaving, then.” I couldn’t quite contain my relief. “Probably a good idea before the storm hits.”

  Keith snapped, “Your mother did invite me. Months ago.”

  “I understand that, but I’m still not clear why the hell you agreed to come.” The conversation ramped up so quickly, I didn’t have time to get my feelings in check.

  “I agreed because I was alone and she said that you were lonely, too. I hoped you’d be open to a conversation—that maybe we could come to some sort of common ground. Find a friendship. We did have some good times.”

  Had we? It really didn’t matter at this point, because his text-message breakup was reason enough not to let my guard down. Although that might be an excuse. My guard had been up for years. I frowned at him. “I guess—but my life is here now. Or it will be.”

  I let that sink in. We stood at the top of the porch as the wind whistled across the field. The sleigh bells jingled. Jake loped up the stairs, his nose white with snow, and I let him into the house. Down at the barn, my mother, May, Ryan and Caleb waited for me. May used her hands a lot as she chatted. Sometimes she used them to punch Ryan in his shoulder. They made a good team.

  Ryan waved to me. “Move your ass, bro. Let’s go.”

  Caleb leaned against the split-rail fence with his arm folded. Resplendent in borrowed snowmobile gear, I felt his gaze even from this distance.

  “Your mother said you had things in your past to deal with and that you’re starting over. I wasn’t sure what she meant until now.”

  I broke free from Caleb’s gaze and gaped in surprise at Keith. “My mother said that? Out loud?”

  “She did. I thought—erroneously—that you had regrets about our relationship. About never opening up.” He nodded stiffly toward Caleb. “But I see she had something else in mind entirely.”

  “Keith. My mother didn’t know he was here. None of us knew.”

  “You don’t actually believe this just happened do you?” His smile mocked me. “Did you think St. Nick delivered your one true love for Christmas? You’re smarter than that. Although you’re about as warm as ever.”

  “You’re doing a shit job if you came all the way here to reconcile.”

  “I’m not trying to reconcile. I drove the five hours here because I wanted closure. We all have someone we let get away, Owen. God knows you did. I see that now. I wished…I just wish it had been different for us.”

  “That’s total bullshit. You ended it.”

  “There was nothing to end. I was the only one in the relationship. You held yourself so far back that you never even told me about him. That’s telling, don’t you think?” Keith pulled a pair of fancy driving gloves from the pocket of his wool coat. “So. Merry Christmas. I’m on my way home—I have plans to join some friends later tonight. Good luck and I hope you don’t freeze to death here in Vermont. It’s fucking cold.”

  And with that, Keith left.

  I joined the others and handed my mother Uncle Archie’s present. “Are you okay?”

  “Fine.” I zipped my borrowed coat. “Why wouldn’t I be? It was a long time ago.”

  “He still hurt you. And I am sorry I invited him.”

  “No more matchmaking.”

  “Agreed.” She sighed with pleasure as Caleb joined us. “You boys turned into such handsome men. So strong and sweet.” Bundled in a red parka, fur framed her face so that she appeared to be looking out of a tunnel. “I want you both to go out there and have some fun.”

  “You should come with us. You need some fun, too.” Caleb’s invitation took me off guard, but he smiled so warmly at my mother I found myself nodding in agreement.

  “Oh, no, no. I have other things to do.” She shook her hand and I knew inside her mitten, she was wagging her finger at both of us. “I have a ton of presents to wrap. Someone was very good this year! Did you get something for your Secret Santa?”

  “Don’t be coy, Mom. You know that I did.” I’d probably regret it, but I was feeling nostalgic and a little…uncharacteristically sentimental. Besides, the stores were all closed now and it was too late to return it.

  “Is it naughty or nice?”

  “It’s a ten-dollar iTunes card,” I said with a straight face.

  Mom huffed, “You wouldn’t be so unimaginative.”

  We were all snug in matching sky-blue ski-do suits and gray helmets and ready to ride. I kicked the heel of my boot against the side of the snowmobile and as I threw my leg over, Ryan pegged me with a chunk of snow. “Really?” I said. “You want to start that now?”

  He grinned and packed snow between his gloves. “Bring it.”

  “Think fast.” Smack. Ryan got hit right in the kisser. May was unapologetic, but she showed us how fast she could run as Ryan chased her across the driveway.

  “That girl couldn’t have been more perfect if I’d hand-picked her myself.”

  “If you had picked her I’d be convinced otherwise, but yeah.”

  Mom handed me a bag of supplies. “This is from Doug and Katie. Hot coffee, no whiskey. Sandwiches and some condoms.”

  I didn’t bat a lash, but Caleb coughed. “You’re telling me that Doug and Katie Winters packed condoms for our hour-long ride? What? Are we supposed to have an orgy in a snow bank?”

  “You should always seize the opportunity for love. When your father and I were in Le Corsaire, we made love in the wings between acts.”

  “That must have been pretty crowded.”

  “I think that sounds romantic, Mrs. McKenzie.”

  “No it doesn’t. It sounds impossible.” I shot Caleb a look. “Please don’t encourage her.”

  You live a block away from my house. I hadn’t moved far beyond that thought all morning as I shopped in town for Brylcreem and found a present for my Secret Santa.

  Caleb Black was currently my enigmatic neighbor.

  May and Ryan continued to fire ammunition at each other as Caleb searched the cloud-covered sky. “We should go. I think we have about an hour before the snow hits.” And with a jolt, he sped across the field.

  We followed—entering the trail through a break in the stone wall. Ryan opened the throttle and led. May bounced along clinging to his back, her sturdy arms wrapped tight, her helmet dove-gray in the afternoon light. The two tore across the snow and Caleb was close behind.

  I took my usual last-place position, allowing the trailblazers to race ahead. Ryan’s competitive nature took hold and he never noticed how far behind I was—or he was used to it. I allowed him to disappear around the next bend and when I gained enough space to move, I opened the throttle, the engine screamed, the machine shook and the first snowflakes fell. My mind was on Keith’s words as I wrestled to stay on the trail.

  You never let yourself open up.

  I caught up with the others just as they cruised into the woods. We moved less swiftly through the trees. Bunched together in a l
ine, we rumbled over the hills in the steadily falling snow. Eventually the path dumped us onto an ice-crusted road. Snow snaked across the road as the wind blasted over the mountain.

  Caleb kept a pace that surprised me until I realized he was waiting for me. I stopped, the engine chugging between my thighs, and pushed my visor up. “Trouble?”

  “I was about to ask you the same.”

  “No, I’m good. I do my own thing.”

  “You do it slowly. Not that I ever had cause to complain.” His words were so unexpected, they chased the cold away.

  I flicked the headlights on and slapped my visor back in place as the storm swallowed the whine of my brother’s engine. His taillights blinked and his snowmobile vanished. The wind gusted heartily and in single blast, the entire world turned white.

  The trip was pretty exhilarating, but it was time to find shelter. “Let’s head back.”

  “C’mon.”

  Within fifty feet, conditions turned fierce. This time when we slowed, we kept a careful pace. The squall turned into an absolute whiteout. I concentrated on Caleb’s red taillights shimmering in front of me.

  When he stopped again, I knew we missed the cut-off for the mountain road. “It’s too icy under the trees.” I barely heard him.

  Ryan and May were a good half mile or so ahead of us, and now the snow thickened until I couldn’t see the end of my skis.

  “There’s a place we can stop. May’s probably waiting for us.”

  “Fine. Lead on.”

  The landmarks resembled those in my dream from last night—lumps of obstacles to be avoided. This would have been a fine time for my glasses, and Caleb didn’t have his on. How the hell could he see? But after fifteen minutes of intense driving, he stopped and called out, “Barn.”

  I would have missed it. The building wasn’t the romantic structure I expected of a snowy Vermont barn. From what I could make out, it was a newly constructed freestanding garage. It looked as cold as I felt.

  I helped Caleb kick a path clear in the snow, and we slid the door on a well-oiled hinge. The snowmobiles were safely inside before he removed his helmet.

  “That was intense.” He laughed, his breath a white cloud. “I love the snow.”

  I grinned at him, tearing my own helmet off. “I remember.”

  White spots stuck to his hair as his knee slid roughly between mine. His cold hand stroked my nape, but the other rested against the wall by my cheek. His knuckles were chapped. He still held the pilfered mistletoe.

  “Are you afraid?”

  “No.”

  “Bull.” His tongue was hot as he licked my lip and I jerked back in surprise. “You’re terrified.”

  I was more terrified by the thrust of his hips into my crotch than the flavor of mint ChapStick on his mouth. I licked back, all false bravado. “So are you.”

  “Maybe, but I know exactly what I want. I want you.” He didn’t hesitate. His eyes closed and he kissed me breathless. He kissed the air away, the cold away, the fear away. He kissed me until I forgot we were taking a risk, right there against the wall as the entire senior class writhed to Nirvana only a few feet away. Caleb Black kissed me like we were the only two people left in the entire world.

  Green eyes were lit from some unknown light source inside the dank barn—or maybe Caleb’s light just came from within. I swear he was remembering that momentous kiss, as well.

  I looked around. “Where are we anyway?”

  “This place belongs to a friend. We’ll wait in the house until the storm passes. Believe me, no one would want us out there now.”

  “So we’re not breaking in?”

  “As a rehabilitated former delinquent, and a career-minded assistant department chair, I swear the key is on a peg under the eaves.” Caleb stuck his helmet under his arm and stepped into the squall. “Keep close. I don’t want to lose you in the storm.” And he was sucked into the blowing white wind.

  Chapter Eight

  Caleb flipped the switch and I was foolishly surprised when the lights blinked on. “It’s not a hunting shack, Owen. It’s a weekend home.”

  “Right.”

  We entered a simple post-and-beam living room with a towering stone fireplace. Comfortable plaid furnishings scattered the room. I shucked my boots and stripped my wet outerwear, leaving everything by the door. The woodbin was filled and because there was no question I needed a task, I made a beeline for the fireplace. “I’ll start the fire in case the power goes.”

  “Good idea.”

  Anything but facing the reality of being trapped alone with Caleb Black and nothing to do but each other. It was one thing to dream of it, even joke about it, but it was quite another to act on it. The vision of him in his underwear last night, that eyelet bedcover pooling at his feet, the past, the present, all of it was seared on the inside of my eyelids. And with each good memory of Caleb replaying in my mind, I was that much closer to laying my cards on the table. I wanted to open up. At least…I did with him.

  I’d come to St. James to start fresh and maybe reclaim what was left of my pride after being routinely dumped for years. Since the moment I’d crossed that bridge to Evergreen, my past stood smack in front of me. There was nowhere to run.

  Caleb lifted the phone. “Phone’s out.”

  “Of course it is. There any other places like this on the way back?”

  “A few. May’ll find somewhere to hole up. Don’t worry. She’s resourceful.”

  I nodded. The only thing to be done was text my parents—maybe a text would go where a call could not—and wait.

  Caleb puttered. He shook his coat free of snow and lined our boots by the fireplace. He finally went into the galley kitchen and the sound of cupboard doors opening and closing followed him.

  The baseboards crackled as the furnace kicked in, amplifying the exquisite degree of tension in the cabin. I made myself useful piling logs on the grate, and then I did my level best to coax a fire while my mind raced through the possibilities. We were alone in this house. We were miles from Evergreen. We’d be here for hours and my mother had packed condoms. Seize the opportunity.

  Christ. I needed a drink.

  “I need a drink,” Caleb blurted before I could. His fingers dug pathways in his flattened hair. He rifled deeper through the cupboards. “I’m sure the last person you’d ever imagine being stuck alone with is me. You like scotch, right?”

  “A bit.” Sterno sounded appealing right now.

  “Good. Speyside at its finest.” He waved a bottle of Glenfiddich and fifteen minutes later, Caleb kicked back on the braid rug with his turtleneck off. He leaned against the worn couch, in front of my five-alarm fire, looking warm and comfy and at ease with himself. I’d perhaps overdone it because the house felt like a sweat lodge. Caleb rested lazily in his T-shirt, staring at the roughhewn ceiling, and finished his scotch. “Have you been to Scotland? Damn fine people.”

  “Edinburgh. For a conference.” I prowled the edges of the room, checking from window to window in case the weather broke. I cracked my knuckles and examined the bars on my cell phone. Still nothing. My first drink was gone in seconds and, because it hadn’t helped, I sampled another.

  Why was I so bloody nervous? We were adults. I knew if I pursued it, he’d have sex with me. I knew it and still…I held back—because if I wanted meaningless sex, I could have fucked Keith before he hightailed it back to Boston.

  And now, Caleb captivated me. Firelight turned the ends of his hair orange, and his skin blushed with heat and booze. He contemplated the ceiling as if a topic of conversation was etched somewhere on the woodwork. I dragged my attention back to the storm. “I remember you always wanted to go to Scotland.”

  That seemed a safe enough topic.

  “Yup. I went and fucked my way through grad school.” He grinned as I choked. “Just kidding.”

  “Funny.”

  I wished I could think of a single goddamn meaningful thing to say instead of pacing the floor like a caged an
imal while the wind shrieked without cease. It was only four in the afternoon on Christmas Eve and it felt like the dead of night. I bit the inside of my cheek and hoped to hell Ryan had gotten May home safely. I hoped someone let Jake out to do his business.

  I hoped my father didn’t have cancer again.

  When Caleb broke the silence, he was amused. “Do you ever sit?”

  “Yes, of course I do.”

  “Relax. My God, you’re so stiff. I’m not going to bite.” He ran his index finger along the edge of his glass until it hummed. His chuckle was a little self-effacing, as if he remembered I had more than once begged him to bite me, and he said, “I mean…unless you ask me to.”

  “I’m fine. I’ll sit in a minute. I just need to tend the fire.” The fire crackled energetically.

  “It looks pretty healthy to me.”

  Why hadn’t we turned the radio on? Normal people turned the TV or the radio on, didn’t they?

  I paced, walking from the fireplace to the back door and snow, snow and everywhere more snow and wind and holy hell, it was all a little confining. “We should listen to the weather.”

  “Why? We can see it perfectly.” Caleb splayed across the carpet in his undershirt and the sight made me sweat. That could have been the heat from the fire. He snared me with a knowing look. “Are you trying to hide or trying to run?”

  “Neither. You’re damn direct, aren’t you?”

  He shrugged. “It’s been fifteen years. I’ve got nothing to lose, right? What’s the worst that can happen? You can tell me to go to hell.”

  “I could.”

  “But you won’t. That’s not your way. Why didn’t you tell Keith about us?”

  “Jesus, Caleb. Dive right in, why don’t you?”

  “Why pussyfoot around?”

  “I don’t…are you saying I pussyfoot?”

  His chest shook with amusement. “Absolutely.”

  Just the sight of his half-naked arms sent blood coursing through my veins to thicken my groin. His forearm rested on his knee and his thumbnail was worn—as it was at eighteen. He still bit at his thumb. I found that incredibly endearing, as I did the coarse growth of whiskers on his jaw, and fine blond hair on his arms.