His smile grew wider as she delivered her lines, even braving a quick glance around the auditorium before settling her attention back on him. When she finished her speaking role, Brad jumped to his feet, clapping and shouting, “Woohoo!” More than a few parents turned to glare at him.
“Brad, sit,” his sister hissed. “It’s not over.”
Still smiling, he sat down. “She did it,” he said, giving a thumbs-up to the little girl onstage. She was now looking anywhere but at him, and her cheeks were glowing red. He relaxed against the seat. “I might have embarrassed her,” he said.
His sister raised an eyebrow. “You think?”
* * *
“SO YOU’RE ONE of those parents.”
Melody paused at the bottom of the stairs outside Brookhollow Elementary moments after her boys’ performance in the pageant. As much as she wanted to ignore Brad’s voice behind her, she couldn’t bring herself to keep walking. Not when every minute inside the auditorium she had looked directly at him, the dull ache in her chest getting worse each time. Twenty-four hours ago, she’d been in his arms, allowing herself to feel something she shouldn’t have, and now they were further apart than ever. She turned. “One of what parents?”
Jogging down the icy steps, he said, “The ones who watch their own kids perform and then take off.” He paused in front of her. When his eyes met hers, they held a trace of merriment.
She knew his remarks were just an effort to lighten the tension between them, but she said, “Not usually, but tonight I have to get to work.” She glanced at her watch. Her shift started in six minutes. Luckily everything in Brookhollow was close by.
“Listen, Mel, I just wanted to apologize again for last night.”
She couldn’t stop the words that came out next, despite her best efforts. “Which part?” What does it matter? her brain screamed. He should be sorry for all of it—they both should. They both owed Patrick so much more respect than what they’d shown the evening before.
He dug his hands into his overcoat pockets and rocked on his heels. “All of it...none of it...”
“So, you’re not apologizing?”
He took a step toward her and reached for her ungloved hand, but she pulled it out of reach. He said, “For hurting you, yes. I can’t apologize enough for that. Hurting you seems to be all I’ve ever done.” He cast his eyes down and said, “Unfortunately, it doesn’t change the fact that last night was the best night I’ve had in so long I can’t even remember.” He raised his eyes and his voice softened. “Mel, I didn’t mean for that kiss to happen, but it did and now it’s the only thing I can think about...and I can’t stand to be feeling this way about you, about us, but I do.”
Her spine straightened as she turned away. “I’ll make this easy for you. I meant what I said last night—stay away from us. I don’t want to see you again.” She managed to take two steps toward her minivan before he grabbed her arm and swung her around.
“You can’t mean that.”
“I do.” Anger flared within her as she advanced toward him. “Are you crazy? Don’t you realize that the two of us together is...is...” Lost for words, she turned and once again headed toward her van, desperate to get away from him. The urge to dive into his warm arms and stay there forever was far too tempting.
Following her, he finished her thought. “A mistake, a bad idea, possibly the dumbest thing either of us could ever do? Yes, you’re right. Us together is all of those things,” he said behind her as she fumbled with the door handle of the van. “But can you really just forget last night, that kiss, this connection between us? ’Cause I’m not sure I can,” he said softly, shutting the van door again immediately after she’d gotten it open.
Summoning every ounce of strength she had left, she met his gaze. “Yes, I can, because he was your best friend and my husband—honoring his memory is the least we can do. The truth is, Brad,” she said, hoping she could pull off the biggest lie of her life, “whenever I look at you, all I see is everything I lost.”
* * *
BRAD WOKE EARLY the next morning, if the few hours of tossing and turning he’d done all night could be called sleeping. Melody’s harsh words the night before had stung, and he hadn’t been able to clear his mind of them. He deserved them. All he’d ever done was hurt her and her family. And that had to stop. Even when Patrick was alive, Brad’s presence had caused tension between the couple, so why on earth would she ever love him? He couldn’t believe he’d even had the nerve to try. Reluctantly pushing himself up from the deflated air mattress, he pulled on his jeans and grabbed a sweatshirt from his open suitcase in the closet. Then he quietly crept downstairs, lured by the smell of coffee brewing.
As he pushed the swinging door to the kitchen, he felt something blocking it on the other side. His sister’s voice called quietly through the tiny crack, “Who is it?”
“Brad. What are you doing?”
Breanne moved the chair that had been blocking the doorway, allowed him to enter and replaced the chair. “I’m wrapping presents,” she said, returning to her post at the kitchen table, where rolls of wrapping paper, bows, tape and scissors were littered.
“A little last-minute to be wrapping, don’tcha think?” he said. His sister was usually the organized planner who had all her shopping and wrapping done early.
“I bet you haven’t even started your shopping yet,” she shot back.
Brad poured her a cup of coffee and handed it to her. “You caught me. I’m heading out to shop this morning. Was there anything on the kids’ Christmas wish lists that you didn’t pick up yet?” he asked. He usually sent the kids money in the form of toy-store gift cards from Nashville, but this year, seeing as he was in town, he wanted his gifts to have a more personal touch.
She pulled a folded piece of Christmas notepaper from her pocket and handed it to him. “I knew you’d ask eventually. Here’s a list of the things they mentioned over the past few months. I had trouble finding some of the items locally, so if you’re going farther than the Brookview Square Mall, perhaps you could take a look.”
“Sure, no problem. I’ll go to Newark. They’ll have a better selection of the latest toys.” He poured coffee into his old Brookhollow High travel mug and secured the lid.
“So what time does our fake family special air tonight?” she asked. In her teeth she clenched the other end of a ribbon she was holding in her hand and cut off several lengths of it.
He’d left countless voice mails for Bridget, hoping to somehow convince the station to cancel his segment, but having received no return calls, he’d given up. He suspected it was too late to change anything now, anyway. Next year he would hire someone new to do damage control as he attempted to restart his career under his own name. “Nine o’clock,” he mumbled. He wouldn’t be anywhere near a television at that time that evening.
* * *
THE TRAFFIC WAS heavier than usual as Brad drove his rental back to Brookhollow after a successful day of tackling busy malls in Newark. The bumper-to-bumper, slow-moving vehicles were further delayed by the heavy snowfall that had started sometime while he was inside the last shopping center. Turning the wipers on high, he slowed even more as he rounded a corner. Since the accident, he had become cautious, not only when driving but when doing anything. So he found it difficult to understand his complete and utter abandonment of common sense when it came to Melody. He should have known she’d push him away. He was responsible for Patrick’s death, and nothing he did now or in the future could ever change that. A part of her, if not all of her, would always hate him. He had to accept that as best as he could and try to move on.
Flicking on the local soft-rock radio station, he tried to shake the memory of their sleigh-ride kiss. Unfortunately, because the first song the station played was Sheryl Crow’s version of “Silent Night,” it was only replaced with a memory of Mel
ody singing at the mayor’s party. Reaching forward, he changed the station to the local Christmas-music-all-the-time station and cringed at the sound of a woman singing “I’ll be Home for Christmas.” Was there no way to escape his thoughts of Melody? Frustrated, he switched to the country music station, only to hear the final three bars of his current single from the album he’d released the year before—“Forever on My Mind.”
“We just heard the latest from Nashville’s own Brad Jackson,” the announcer said. “That one’s currently hitting the country music charts at number twenty, and I’m hoping it makes it to number one. Next on...”
The sound of the announcer’s voice faded in the background as Brad pondered the words. The elusive number one. As catchy as the song was, he knew it wasn’t going to be a chart-topper. He’d be lucky if it made the top ten. And he didn’t even want to think about the stack of songs he had so far for the next album.
Turning onto the exit for Brookhollow moments later, Brad glanced at the stack of gift-wrapped presents on the passenger seat next to him—the gifts he’d bought for the twins and the one for Melody. It was after five already, and she’d mentioned going to her parents’ house for dinner that evening to exchange presents. He didn’t think they would be home, but pulling onto their cul-de-sac, he saw their van still in the driveway. He hesitated. He’d wanted to just leave the presents on the porch, honoring her wish for him to stay away. He didn’t want to make things awkward or ruin their Christmas Eve. But as he passed the house, the front door opened and David and Joshua came rushing out, arms full of presents. They saw him and called his name.
Now he had to stop. In fact, he wanted to—his flight to Nashville was the following afternoon after Christmas dinner with his family, and this would be his last opportunity to say goodbye to the boys...and to Melody. He pulled the car to the curb and grabbed the gifts from the front seat.
As he exited the car, David and Josh ran to greet him with cries of “Merry Christmas Eve!”
“Yeah, tonight’s a big night,” Brad said, ruffling David’s hair and then Josh’s.
“Are those for us?” David asked, his wide eyes glued to the stack of presents Brad was carrying.
Melody appeared on the front step and gave David a disapproving look. “Manners,” she reminded him.
“Sorry,” David said.
Brad offered Melody a smile, which she politely, if reluctantly, returned as she slid her arms into her winter coat. “Yes, these are for you,” Brad said, opening the van door for the boys to set their own gifts inside, before handing them his. “Why don’t you bring those inside for later. The one on top is for your mom,” he whispered.
“Awesome,” Josh said excitedly, accepting the stack of gifts and rushing past his mother on the step. “Look what Brad brought us.”
“Yes, that was nice of him,” Melody said tightly, as the boys ran past her to set their early gifts under the tree. “Hurry. We’re late already,” she called to them. Then, turning to Brad, she said, “Thank you, but you really shouldn’t have.”
“Of course I should have—I have three missed Christmases to make up for,” he said, choking on the tense, cold air swirling around them. “Sorry, I meant to just leave them on the porch.”
“It’s fine.”
Her tone said it was anything but, yet he couldn’t seem to turn and walk away. “Heading to your folks’ place?”
“Yeah.” She checked her watch. “We were supposed to be there ten minutes ago. Come on, boys!” she called to them.
That was his cue to leave. “Well, I won’t keep you,” he said as the boys reappeared outside and Melody closed and locked the front door. “I’m leaving tomorrow...” Was it his imagination or did her expression soften just a little? “I just wanted to say bye to...all of you.”
“When will you visit again?” Josh asked.
“I’m not sure. I promise it won’t be another three years, though. Okay?” Brad bent to hug the little boy. Turning to David, he extended a hand. “Take care of your mom, okay?”
David nodded as he accepted the handshake before he rushed off to the van with his brother. They closed the door, but Brad could feel two pairs of eyes watching him as he approached Melody. “Well...merry Christmas,” he said, his mind frantic. Hug her? Kiss her cheek? What goodbye was appropriate for the woman he was in love with, a woman who’d said she never wanted to see him again?
Luckily she made the decision for him by stepping into his arms and hugging him quickly. “Merry Christmas,” she whispered.
He breathed in the sweet smell of her hair and hugged her tighter for a long moment. Releasing her was the hardest thing he’d ever done. “Mel...”
She shook her head as she moved past him. “Tell your family we said Merry Christmas.”
“Mel, I love you.” He knew saying it was wrong. That it wouldn’t change anything. Except possibly make things worse. But if this was the last chance he’d ever get to say it, he would always regret not trying.
She stopped and turned, a look of defeat on her beautiful face. “Brad...”
He stepped forward and touched her cheek. “Shh. I didn’t say it to hear it back.”
Their eyes locked, and then with her head down against the blowing snow, she rushed to the van, not glancing back at him. Moments later she was gone.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“I THINK I’M going to steal,” Jim said, sitting across from her at the family’s dining room table later that evening. The meal was over and the dishes were cleared. Everyone was too full to move.
Melody quickly covered the gift in front of her with both arms. “Don’t you dare. I’ve seen you eyeballing my gift the entire time,” she said.
Instead of the adults exchanging presents, each year the family did a White Elephant Gift Exchange. Everyone brought two mystery gifts, one good and one gag, to place in the center of the table. When it was his or her turn, each person had the option to select a new gift from the pile or steal one of the other players’ gifts. Melody had chosen first, an item she believed to be her favorite orange-flavored chocolate, and so far she’d been fortunate enough to keep it. Now her older brother’s gaze was locked on the small, square present. She wanted to kick him under the table.
“Hmm...” Jim pretended to think. “Maybe I’ll take this one.” He slowly reached for a long, round package in the center, and then shook his head. “Nope, I want Mel’s.” He extended a hand across the table.
“You’re an awful brother. You know that, right?” She pouted as she handed him her gift.
“You’ll get a chance to steal it back,” Bailey reminded her.
“Shh!” Jim said.
“That’s right,” Melody said. “I get another turn.” Sitting back in her chair, she took a sip of her wine and watched as Ethan and Jill selected their gifts from the pile. Seeing the happy couples around the table—her parents, Jim and Jill, and Ethan and Bailey—made it harder to ignore the sense of loneliness she felt this time of year. Whoever said time heals all wounds had obviously never been without their lost spouse in the holiday season. And now, on top of the hollowness she felt inside, she had a crushing sense of guilt. Yes, guilt, at the nagging realization that she longed for a different man to be sitting there that evening. As much as she’d tried to forget them, his parting words echoed in her mind. He loved her. The last man on earth she could ever have a future with loved her. Worse was the knowledge that somehow she’d allowed herself to fall in love with him, too.
An hour later, after reclaiming her chocolate from Jim and then sharing it with him, she said good-night to her family. The boys were getting sleepy, and she still had to play Santa after they’d gone to bed.
“Good night, sis,” Ethan said, giving her a hug at the front door. “You’re sure you don’t want Bailey and me to come over tonight?”
Melody shook her head. This was the couple’s first Christmas Eve together. She wasn’t about to let her depressed, lonely self interfere with their happiness. “Yeah, I’m sure.”
“We really don’t mind,” Bailey said, wrapping an arm around Ethan’s waist.
Melody forced a smile for the couple’s sake. “Trust me, I’m fine. I’ll be out like a light as soon as the boys go to bed,” she lied. She suspected this Christmas Eve would be the toughest one yet. She’d be lucky if she got any sleep at all.
“If you need anything, call us, okay?” Ethan said.
“Not on your life. Go cuddle with your fiancée.”
“Merry Christmas, Mel,” he said as he closed the door behind them.
Melody made her way to the van, where the boys were already buckled in and half asleep. She knew her family worried about her, especially at this time of year, but she wondered what they would think if they knew that for the first time, it wasn’t only Patrick she was missing.
* * *
BRAD CARRIED A sleeping Darius up the stairs to his bedroom. Pulling back his superhero comforter, he gently placed the little boy beneath the sheet, being careful not to wake him. The excitement of the evening had wiped the boy out. After kissing his nephew’s cheek, Brad yawned and descended the stairs. He wouldn’t be awake that much longer himself.
“It’s channel forty-six,” he heard Breanne say as he approached the living room, where the rest of his family were.
“I thought it was forty-three,” his mother argued.
“It doesn’t matter. We’re not watching it,” Brad said as he entered the room. He knew his family couldn’t wait to watch the “Home for the Holidays” special, but he cringed at the thought. The fact that he’d asked his family to pretend to be something they weren’t now disgusted him. What had he been thinking when he’d let Roxanne take over his life the way she had? Fame or no fame, he was calling the shots in his life and his career from here out.
The Mistletoe Melody Page 19
