“Oh. Well, that’s too bad,” Al said. “So, uh, let me get this tree over to your car. Got some rope to tie it on?”
“I’ve got some in the trunk.”
With the help of his son, Al hoisted the giant tree onto the roof of her car. It promptly swallowed the vehicle.
“Good thing you don’t have far to drive,” Al said. “That’s a traffic ticket waiting to happen.”
“Better hope Tilda’s not on the road,” his son added. “She’ll give you one for sure.”
Ella thanked them, then got in her car and drove home, peering through the fir fringe. She parked in front of the house in time to see Jake and Tiny strolling up the street. At the sight of her Tiny raced over to the car and greeted her as she got out.
“Hey, boy,” she said. “Did you have a good walk?”
Now Jake was at the car. “You didn’t tell me you were getting a tree.”
Why should she have? It wasn’t like they were going to spend a cozy afternoon together trimming it. “I didn’t think you’d be interested.”
He scowled at it. “I don’t see the point.”
“Maybe that’s why I didn’t tell you.”
“How much did it cost?”
She’d spent more than she should have, but she didn’t need him pitching in. She could handle it on her own. She was going to be handling things on her own from now on, and that included Christmas trees. “Never mind,” she said, and began fumbling with the rope.
“Here, let me,” he said, stepping in and taking over. “I don’t know why the hell you bought a tree.”
“To make the house look nice.”
“Oh, yeah. That figures.”
“What?” she demanded.
“Nothing,” he said irritably.
Mims had always hired decorators, so for Ella trimming the tree was still a novelty and a delight. But it was an activity that should be done with smiles. There would be no smiles today. What a dumb idea. What had she been thinking? As if a tree alone would sell her house. It probably wasn’t the lack of holiday decor or faulty plumbing that was keeping this house on the market. It was the lack of love inside it. People picked up on things like that.
Jake lifted her purchase down from the car and hauled it up the front walk, rather like a cave man bringing home a dead animal. “Be careful,” Ella said as he went up the steps, the tree dragging along behind him.
“Don’t worry about it.”
She sighed and followed him in. Definitely a dumb idea.
He propped the tree by the front door. “Do we need the tree stand?”
“I need the tree stand,” she said. “I’ll get it.”
He held up a hand. “I can do it. I’ll get the ornaments out of the attic, too.”
Half an hour later, the tree was planted in its stand by the front window, waiting to get dressed for the holidays. She assumed Jake would leave now, his part in the process over, but instead he opened the storage container with the lights and pulled out a string. “Tell me how you want ’em,” he said, and started stringing them around the tree.
That was how they’d done it in the past. He’d string the lights and she’d look on with an artist’s eye and direct operations. She swallowed a sudden lump in her throat.
“How’s this?” he asked.
“Nice,” she managed.
Once the lights were on, he vanished into the kitchen. His job was done.
She opened the container of ornaments they’d collected and felt sadness fly out at her. All the memories in here were good ones. It was so wrong that they didn’t mean anything anymore.
Many of the ornaments were simple colored balls, but they had a few special ones, and she felt tears springing to her eyes when she took out one shaped like a miniature Christmas present. Jake had gotten it for her their first Christmas. “Wish I could buy you a box full of designer jewelry,” he’d written on the card, “but for now will you settle for all my love?”
She sniffed and hung it up.
“I remember that,” he said, and she turned to see him coming back into the room holding two mugs. He handed her one. “Eggnog. We always drink eggnog when we decorate the tree.”
She accepted the mug with a murmured thanks and took a sip. “You spiked it.”
“I always spike it.”
And she always got tipsy and crazy. They weren’t married anymore. There was no point getting tipsy and crazy. She set it on the coffee table and went back to the ornaments. Jake joined her. “You don’t have to help,” she told him.
“I know. I want to.” He took out a porcelain angel in a lacy gown. “Remember this?”
She nodded. He got it for her three years ago at the Kris Kringl Mart on Thanksgiving weekend. They’d shopped at the merchants and artist booths and drank hot chocolate, and then walked home in the snow. Later that evening, they’d built a fire in the fireplace and made love on the couch. She averted her eyes as he hung it up.
“El, I didn’t mean to sound like a bastard earlier. I just thought we weren’t going to do a tree. And…”
“And what?” she prompted.
He shrugged. “It sucks that we’re doing a tree to get rid of this place.”
“You wanted to move to Nashville,” she reminded him.
He clenched his jaw, a sure sign that he was keeping back something he’d thought the better of saying.
This had been such a stupid idea. Ella took a big gulp of eggnog.
Jake pulled out the little jukebox topped with a black cowboy hat and she downed the last of her eggnog in one long guzzle.
He looked at the ornament. “Remember when you got this for me?”
She’d found that ornament at a kiosk in a mall when they went to Seattle to celebrate their first anniversary. The company personalized the ornaments and the banner across this one read “I Do and I Will.” It was the title of the song he’d written and sung to her at their wedding.
“I need more eggnog,” she muttered, going to the kitchen, Tiny trotting after her hopefully. “This wouldn’t be good for you,” she said as she poured the eggnog. Heck, all those calories wouldn’t be good for her, either. She’d be sorry when she stepped on the scale tomorrow but tonight she needed comfort food.
She heard footsteps and a moment later Jake was at her side. “I could use a refill, too,” he said, taking the carton from her. He filled his mug, then picked up the bottle of rum he’d left on the counter and added a generous splash. Before she could protest he’d added some to hers, as well. “’Tis the season.”
Not to be jolly. She went back to the tree. Enough with the special ornaments, she decided, and dug out a box of plain gold balls. Even those made her want to cry.
Jake gave the jukebox a flick with his finger. “I still think that song could be a hit.” He began to sing, painting a musical picture of their wedding.
She grabbed her eggnog and downed more. “Stop.”
He frowned. “What happened to us, El? Why didn’t we try harder to work things out?”
“What was the point? You’re never going to change.”
“You liked me just the way I was when we were first together,” he said softly.
She didn’t say anything to that and they worked in silence for a while, decorating and, every time a new memory came out of the ornament box, drinking. Her mug emptied, he filled it back up. And then it emptied again. How fast the eggnog disappeared when you were trying to wash away memories!
At last the tree was done. “Looks good,” Jake said. “There’s something missing, though.”
She glanced at the stack of boxes. “I don’t think so.”
He grabbed some old newspaper and started crumpling it. “We always have a fire in the fireplace when we put up the tree.”
Had. They always had. Ella didn’t say anything. Instead, she cleared away the empty boxes while Jake piled on the kindling. By the time she returned, the kindling had caught and he was adding a couple of logs. The fragrance of burning pine began t
o fill the room. A decorated tree, a husband building a roaring fire—this was a scene fit for a magazine ad selling…what? Happiness.
No, this wasn’t true happiness, just an alcohol-induced buzz.
Buzzing was good, though.
Jake fetched more rum and joined her on the couch. “Remember the first time we lit a fire in that fireplace?” he asked as he freshened her mug.
She took another sip. How could she forget? He’d thought he was opening the damper and instead had closed it. She smiled. “You’ve gotten pretty good at building fires since then.” He’d gotten good at a lot of things, especially making love to her. He knew every inch of her, exactly what turned her on.
She felt his fingers caressing the back of her neck, right below her hairline. That was one of the things.
“This is our last Christmas,” he whispered, then began singing again, the chorus of that first song he’d written for her.
Tell him to stop, she commanded herself, but she couldn’t. She’d always loved it when he sang to her. It had made her feel special. She wanted to feel special one last time.
He took her mug and set it on the coffee table. Then he took her face in his hands and looked at her with longing in those gorgeous dark eyes of his.
He still loves you.
It was the rum talking. She wouldn’t listen.
Be honest. You still love him, said the rum. And you want him.
The rum was right. She let Jake kiss her. And kiss her again. And then she let him slide his hand up her midriff. Every nerve ending along the way did the Wave. Woooh! Oh, this wasn’t leading anywhere good.
No, said the rum. It’s leading somewhere great.
* * *
Cecily looked at the clock in Cass’s living room. “I wonder what’s going on with Ella. It’s not like her to be this late.”
Cass had the DVD of Miracle on Thirty-Fourth Street in the player, waiting for their last movie buff to arrive. Ella loved these movie nights. Where was she?
“I say give her ten more minutes and then we start without her,” Samantha said, popping a chocolate mint truffle in her mouth.
“I saw her at Santa’s tree lot today.” Cass helped herself to another Christmas cookie from the platter on her coffee table. “Maybe she got busy decorating and forgot.”
“Kind of early to put up a tree, isn’t it?” Samantha asked. “We used to wait until mid-December to put ours up so it wouldn’t dry out.”
“Al claims his trees are so fresh you don’t need to wait,” Cass said. “Although, come to think of it, the one we got from him last year was practically a fire hazard by Christmas Eve.”
“So when are you putting up your tree?” Charley asked her.
“Good question,” Cass said. “Somewhere in between the wedding dress and the DJ.”
Samantha shook her head. “Pulling this wedding together so fast is—well, I don’t know how you’re doing it.”
“Piece of cake,” Cass said.
“Spoken like a true baker.” Samantha grinned. “Have you picked a caterer yet?”
“It’s on the to-do list. I need to find someone Dani will like and I can afford.”
“Well,” Samantha said slowly, “Bailey’s planning on coming up for the holidays. She’s the queen of caterers and I bet she could be persuaded to come up early. She’d give you a deal.”
“Now, there’s a good idea,” Cass said. “I wouldn’t have to worry with Bailey in charge.”
“Well, other than worrying about her tripping and falling into the wedding cake,” Samantha joked.
Cecily couldn’t help smiling. Bailey wasn’t the most graceful girl on the planet. But of the three of them, she was the bubbliest. A girl could get away with a lot of klutziness when she was adorable.
Cass poured herself a glass of wine. “Well, I say we start the movie. I have to get up with the birds.”
The life of a baker. Ugh. But Cass was right. They couldn’t wait indefinitely. “Let me just call her,” Cecily said. She picked up her cell phone and called Ella’s house.
Jake answered on the third ring.
Now that they were divorced, Cecily never knew quite what to say to him. It was so awkward when friends broke up. Heck, it was more than that. It was heartbreaking. “Oh, Jake. Hi. Sorry to bother you, but we’re getting ready to watch our movie and we’re wondering where Ella is. Do you know if she left?”
“She’s not gonna make it tonight,” Jake said. “She had too much eggnog and she can’t drive.”
It was a fifteen-minute walk from their place to Cass’s. “Too much eggnog?”
“We were decorating the tree,” Jake said, as if that explained it.
Before Cecily could say anything more, he added, “I’ll tell her you called, Cec.” And then he hung up. Cecily stared at her phone, trying to figure out what was odd about that conversation.
“So, is she coming?” Samantha asked.
“No,” Cecily said. “She had too much eggnog.”
“Too much eggnog,” her sister repeated.
“Eggnog and tree-trimming. Something is going on over there,” Cecily said.
“You think they’re getting back together?” Charley asked.
“Bad plan if you ask me,” Samantha said, choosing another chocolate.
“Not necessarily,” Cecily argued. “Maybe they’ve come to some sort of compromise.” She hoped so.
Cass shook her head. “I don’t know. Getting back together with her ex? It doesn’t sound smart to me.”
“People can change,” Charley said.
Cecily hadn’t been a matchmaker for nothing. She could read between the lines, and Charley’s statement read like a potential horror story. “Not all people,” she cautioned.
Charley pretended not to see her friend’s warning look. Instead, she loaded a bowl with popcorn and said, “So, let’s start the movie.”
Okay, there was a heart destined for the heartbreak trail. Charley was going to do what she was going to do, and there’d be no stopping her. Just like there’d been no stopping Ella when she let her mother convince her that she needed to dump Jake. Cecily was the resident love expert here. Why didn’t her friends ever listen to her?
Maybe because you’ve gone through two fiancés? Well, there was that. She filled another bowl with popcorn and sat back to watch the movie. What was going on over at Ella’s?
12
Ella stumbled out of a deep sleep Monday morning to find she had three arms. One was under her pillow and another was stretched out in front of her. Over that arm lay the third, a muscular one with dark hair. She blinked herself the rest of the way into consciousness to see that the third arm was attached to a second body tucked up against hers, a body that didn’t belong in her bed. Jake.
With a yelp she hurled herself out of bed. This sudden movement didn’t do wonders for her head, which was throbbing.
He was awake now and looking confused. “El?”
“What are you doing in my bed?” Someone’s been sleeping in my bed. And doing other things, too.
“I was sleeping,” he said, sitting up.
“Before that?” Why was she asking? She knew.
He grinned.
“But we’re divorced.” She ran a hand through her hair. How had this happened? Of course, that was a stupid question. She’d gotten sloppy sentimental and tipsy.
“We can fix that,” he said easily. He slid from under the covers and started toward her.
“Where are your clothes?” For that matter, where were her clothes? Naked. She was naked. She grabbed the bedspread and held it in front of her like a shield.
“Scattered all over the living room, along with yours. And it’s a little late for that, isn’t it?” he teased, pointing at her makeshift covering. He tried to hug her but she jerked away, tripping over the bedspread in the process. “This was wrong. You seduced me!”
“Oh, yeah? Well, you seemed pretty anxious to be seduced. Come on, Ella, quit pretending you didn’t
want that as much as I did.”
“I…” She had. “This doesn’t mean anything.”
“It means a lot. It means we belong together.”
“No, we don’t.” Jake had been a mistake. Last night had been a mistake. She was done making mistakes. “I’m not doing that again. Ever.” At least not with him.
A new thought occurred to her. What if she’d gotten pregnant? It only took once and she wasn’t on the Pill anymore. “Did you use protection?”
“Uh, no.”
One time, it was just one time. What were the chances? “Ooooh. I feel sick,” she moaned. Morning sickness? Already?
“I’ll make us some coffee,” he said.
Exactly what she wanted, a cozy cup of coffee with her ex-husband. You didn’t have any objections to sharing a cozy mug of eggnog with him last night. Actually, several.
She hurried to the shower, determined to wash away the fuzzy memory of his touch and any latent traces of longing.
By the time he came out of the kitchen with her coffee, she was on her way out the door.
“Where are you going? It’s only eight.”
“I need to get to the shop.”
“It’s not open on Mondays. Don’t run away, El.”
“I’m not running away,” she said haughtily. “I’m just…not staying. I have extra work to do.” She’d come up with something.
He frowned. “What a little chicken you are.”
“I’m not a chicken.”
“Yeah, you are. By the way…”
“What?”
He nodded at her chest. “Your sweater’s on backward.”
She looked down. He was right. She was so upset she couldn’t even dress herself properly. “Thank you,” she said, trying for some dignity. Then she shut the door and ran down the walk.
It wasn’t until she got to the shop that she realized she’d also put on one black pump and one brown one and she had a black sock on one foot and a navy blue one on the other. Great. Now she looked as messed up on the outside as she was on the inside. Gilded Lily’s didn’t carry shoes so she was stuck. Unless, of course, she wanted to run back home and change. And see Jake. Which, she insisted sternly, she didn’t want to do. It was a good thing they weren’t open on Mondays. No one would see her messed-up feet and ask what the heck she’d been thinking when she got dressed this morning.
Merry Ex-Mas Page 12
