This Christmas

by Olivia Miles

  “Well, tell her I say hello!” Lisa smiled and moved away, where her husband was waiting for her with the kids’ coats.

  Tess looked away as a pang pierced through her, and right into the eyes of her smiling daughter coming through the door.

  “Mommy!” Phoebe ran to her, arms outstretched, as if she hadn’t seen Tess in months. Or worried she would never see her again.

  “You did great,” Tess said, holding her tight until Phoebe pulled away. “What do you say we celebrate with some mac and cheese and ice cream?”

  “At home?”

  Home. Once, Tess had loved her home. It was a Victorian, walking distance to the center of town and close to the lake. The three of them used to walk to the ice cream shop on hot, Sunday afternoons, and eat their cones on the way back: strawberry for Andrew and Phoebe, chocolate for her. She could sit on the wicker chairs on the front porch and watch Phoebe play in the front yard. Or she could sit in the backyard and hear the leaves of the giant maple tree rustling in the wind. But lately, being home felt uncomfortable and empty. It was too quiet, especially when Phoebe was tucked in for the night.

  “Why don’t we head to Preston’s instead?” Tess suggested, sparking a big cry of approval from Phoebe, meaning it was too late to retract the statement. Not that she wanted to. Preston’s was one of the few places in town where she felt comfortable these days, other than the lake and the small park out near her childhood home, and it wasn’t because of its dark, rustic décor and blazing stone fireplace. It was the one place in town where she wasn’t alone, or the only one feeling Andrew’s loss.

  With that decision made, she felt like she couldn’t get out of the school building fast enough, past the happy, complete families, who didn’t have broken hearts they had to hide. She gathered up her cupcake carrier, pleased to see that only one cupcake remained, which she set on a paper plate for whoever wanted it.

  Outside, the wind was cold, and Phoebe shivered. “Can’t you get the car and pick me up?” she asked.

  Tess would have laughed if the thought of it didn’t make her want to cry. That was something Andrew had always done—gone to fetch the car in the rain and the cold, while she and Phoebe waited inside, warm and dry, looking out the window for his car.

  She closed her eyes, briefly.

  “We’ll hurry,” she said, mustering up the enthusiasm that got her through her weekends, evenings, and morning hours, when Phoebe wasn’t at school but instead, beside her. Sometimes Phoebe’s company was just what she needed to snap herself out of her funk; other times it was downright exhausting having to hide her emotions. They scurried across the pavement, and Tess fought off the guilt of running late and having to park so far from the building. She should have known better than to schedule a job interview so close to the pageant, but she wasn’t about to turn down an opportunity, especially when it was the first one to come along.

  She checked her phone as soon as they were in the car, even though she knew that it would be pointless to expect a response this soon. Surely they needed to take their time and consider all their options.

  But she hoped they wouldn’t take too much time. As it was, it was going to be a lean Christmas if she wanted to be careful with their savings.

  Preston’s was in the center of town, right at the intersection of Main and Lake Streets. In the summer, the back deck was one of the hottest spots in town, with a waterfront location and a view of the mountains in the distance. Tess pulled to a stop in the lot around the back, bracing herself for a long wait but knowing that Jeff Preston would find a way to make it a little easier for them.

  Sure enough, they barely wedged into the vestibule, and the smell of burgers made Tess’s stomach rumble. It had been a couple of weeks since she’d been in, and in that time, the place had been transformed with colored lights and a wreath above the mantle and old-timey Christmas hits bleating over the speakers.

  For a moment, Tess felt a sense of betrayal. Could this Christmas really be so easy for Jeff?

  She pushed that thought immediately away. Of course it wasn’t easy for him. Andrew had been his best friend, his oldest friend. Andrew was an only child, and Jeff had grown up with three sisters, in the house next door to Andrew’s family. They were more like brothers than friends. More like family.

  “Tess!” From across the crowded waiting area, Jeff held up a hand. He grinned—he had such a great grin, the kind that made all your problems seem to drift away, at least for a little while, Christmas decorations and all.

  She felt her shoulders sag in relief. Just the sight of him made her feel better. The smile proved they’d been right in coming here.

  “Hi, Jeff!” Phoebe pushed ahead of her and bounded up to the bar, where Jeff was tending, a cloth slung over his shoulder, his green Henley pushed up at the sleeves.

  “How’s my favorite girl?” he asked, and then gave Tess a wink.

  “I had a pageant tonight. I got to sing and dress up like an angel.” Here, Phoebe turned to show off the white wings she had insisted on wearing over her pink puffer coat.

  “That deserves a special treat. If your mother says it’s okay,” he added, his smile turning rueful. He glanced at her, raising an eyebrow in question.

  “It’s okay,” Tess said. She sometimes feared she was spoiling Phoebe recently, but then she looked around her. It was Christmastime—the happiest time of the year. And Phoebe needed all the happiness she could find right about now.

  They both did. It just wasn’t so easy to find when you were thirty-five.

  “A table’s clearing over by the fireplace,” Jeff said. “I’ll set you up.”

  Tess’s eyes drifted to the line of people, but Jeff was already coming around the bar. He patted her shoulder. His hand felt reassuring and solid. Across the bar she could see the eyes of a few women, wearing barely there tops despite the weather, nursing glasses of white wine, and no doubt watching Jeff’s every move, stationed right where they could chat him up or giggle at his jokes. She almost wanted to laugh, to pat their heads and say, “Nothing to worry about here, ladies.” Absolutely no need to be jealous of a widowed single mother.

  She took Phoebe’s hand and followed him to the back of the room. “One of the perks of knowing the owner,” Tess said, as she and Phoebe settled into their chairs.

  “Not the only reason you stop by, I hope.” Jeff grinned.

  Tess held his gaze a beat, then, feeling her cheeks flush, looked away for a moment before looking back up. “No, we really come for the food.”

  “Just for that, I might have to make you clear your plate tonight,” Jeff teased.

  Tess rarely ate breakfast, and she’d been too busy getting ready for her job interview to have lunch. Now she watched as a waitress carried a tray with steaming heaps of pasta to a couple near the window. “I don’t think you’ll have to worry about that tonight. We’re celebrating.”

  “Kiddie cocktail!” Phoebe reminded Jeff, and he laughed.

  “Coming right up,” he said. “But first… Have you finished your list for Santa?”

  Tess tensed. She had kept a mental catalogue of everything that Phoebe had mentioned, scratching the preposterous items from her list (A cell phone? At age eight?) and snagging everything else, well, except the dog that she was considering giving into come the spring. But now Christmas was barely more than a week away. If Phoebe decided to add to her list, which she was known to do, then Tess feared she risked disappointing her. And she didn’t want to do that. As much as she dreaded this holiday, she needed it to be special.

  Phoebe nodded firmly. “I sure did. I want a skating dress for my doll, a knitting kit, a new sled…” Tess silently checked off each item as Phoebe rattled them off. All accounted for. All tucked away in the attic where they wouldn’t be found. “And a star necklace.”

  Tess frowned. A star necklace? This was the first time that Phoebe had ever mentioned such a thing! Where was Tess even supposed to find something like that?

  Jeff must ha
ve sensed her alarm, because he changed the subject. “Well, I’m sure Santa knows that you’ve been a good girl. That is, if you finish all your homework tonight.”

  Phoebe giggled. “There’s no homework tonight! It’s winter break!”

  “Winter break. Remember that?” He gave Tess a conspiratorial wink. Indeed, Tess did remember her breaks, because she counted down the days when she could return to the comforting routine of school. Her home life was unpredictable at best, at the mercy of her mother’s moods, which shifted with the tides when their father walked out on them when Tess was nine, never to be heard from again. Still, she and her two younger sisters had kept busy, sledding, skiing, and attending all of Winter Lake’s many festivities.

  “What are you going to miss most about school these next few weeks? Let me guess!” Jeff feigned concentration for a moment, and Phoebe looked enraptured. Finally, he held up a finger. “I’ve got it. The homework!”

  Now Phoebe was hiccupping she was giggling so hard, and Tess smiled as she watched her. “No, Jeff! Not homework! I’m going to miss the swings!”

  “You go on the swings at this time of year?” Tess was amused. She assumed their outside recesses were filled with angel making and snowman building.

  “Oh, yes. We have a contest to see who can go the highest.”

  Tess set a hand to her chest, her smile pulled from her face. Visions of Phoebe up in the air, her ponytail flying, her body slipping, and then—

  Jeff was looking at her sternly. He shook his head, and then gave her a little squeeze on the shoulder as he turned to go. “Relax, Tess,” he whispered in her ear. “It’s all going to be okay.”

  Tess watched him go and then opened her menu, even though she already knew the options by heart. Preston’s had been their place long before Andrew had left their lives. It was one of the few constants in her world. One she hoped would never change.

  “So,” she said to Jeff when he returned shortly with the pink fizzy drink, complete with extra cherries. “You’ve decorated the place.”

  He shrugged. “It’s Christmas.”

  Indeed, Tess thought heavily. It was Christmas. She’d been dreading it since Thanksgiving when she and Phoebe had gathered with Jeff’s parents at their cozy house on Willow Street, nearly identical to the one beside it, aside from the paint colors, where Andrew had grown up, even though his parents had sold it years back, before they’d moved to Arizona. A pity invite, she couldn’t help but feel. It was a family event—a noisy affair with Jeff’s sisters and their husbands and rowdy sons—and Tess and Phoebe were the only ones there with no other family to celebrate with. She’d gotten used to it over the years with both of her sisters being gone and then her mother passing away, but it had been different when she had a family of her own, of course.

  “When are we going to get a tree, Mommy?” Phoebe dropped a cherry into her mouth.

  “Yeah, Mommy,” Jeff quipped, making Phoebe giggle so hard that she had to spit out some of her drink. “When are you going to get a tree?”

  Tess pulled in a breath. She had been planning on getting a tree. Of course she had. She couldn’t let Phoebe down like that. But the thought of putting it up and decorating it and being reminded, constantly, that it was Christmas and that Christmas was supposed to be a happy time, and that it wasn’t…Well, it was too much.

  Jeff’s gaze softened. “How about we go together? This weekend? I’ve got my truck. I’ll help you set it up.”

  Tess gave him a grateful smile. “Thank you.”

  “Any plans for the holiday?” he asked, looking from Tess to Phoebe. His expression was so hopeful that Tess almost wished she had better news to give him.

  “Not sure about the holiday, but I had an interview today,” she said.

  Jeff looked surprised, and then pleased. “Aw, Tess. That’s great news!”

  Tess made sure that Phoebe was engrossed in the coloring sheet on the back of the kid’s menu. “Well, we’ll see if I even get it.” It wasn’t anything exciting, an assistant at a bank, but she realized that she wanted it. That she needed it.

  “Hey! Why wouldn’t they hire you?”

  Tess just shook her head. “I haven’t been in the workforce in about nine years, and I forgot how to use any software other than the internet and basic word processing.”

  “I’m pretty sure that the internet isn’t software,” Jeff said, and Tess swatted him.

  “See?” She sighed. “The woman who interviewed me seemed young enough to be my daughter.”

  He cocked an eyebrow. “You’re forgetting that I knew you back in high school. Hate to break it to you, Tess, but you were always more of a wallflower type, not a…reproducing type.” He darted a glance in Phoebe’s direction, but she was singing to carols under her breath as she carefully colored an illustration of a reindeer.

  Tess laughed. It felt good, rare. Like a release of something that had been building inside her. “I certainly wasn’t as sure of myself as some of the other crowd.”

  She waggled her eyebrows, because she happened to have spotted a few of the people in question at the bar on her way in. No doubt Jeff had too. Heck, he’d dated half of them. Winter Lake was small that way. Some people stayed, like her and Jeff. And Andrew. And others left. Like her sisters.

  “Anyway,” Tess continued. “I’m not sure I’ll get the job.” She felt tense at the mere thought. She’d begun applying for jobs when school started in September, knowing that their savings and Andrew’s life insurance policy wouldn’t last forever. The mortgage was steep and little things added up. There was still Phoebe’s college fund to think about. Besides, as Jeff had pointed out early on, it would be good for her to get out of the house while Phoebe was at school. It would be good to have a purpose.

  “There will always be another one,” Jeff said, but Tess felt her smile slip. Sure, she could maybe get a position in one of the boutiques here in town, but the thought of having to be cheerful all day and chitchat with customers was a stretch at the moment. A desk job was a much better fit. And distraction.

  Except that she hadn’t had a desk job since her twenties, and considering that she’d gotten pregnant and decided to be a stay-at-home mother, that left her with only four years of experience. It felt like half a lifetime ago. She was out of touch. The world had moved on.

  “Well,” she said, eager to change the subject. “We should probably let you get back to the bar.”

  Jeff gave a lazy smile, showing that he probably agreed with her but wished he didn’t. He worked hard, running this place. And it was a busy night. “What’ll it be? On the house.”

  Tess gave him a long look. It was always on the house, and the large tips she left didn’t seem to be enough to make up for his kindness. Nothing was enough.

  “Thank you,” she said quietly.

  He grinned and turned to Phoebe. “Let me guess. Mac and cheese. Spiral noodles. And for your mom…” He roamed his gaze back to Tess, and when their eyes met, Tess felt something in her stir. She swallowed hard. Felt the room still. Heard the crackle of the flames in the fireplace behind her.

  She shook all that away. Quickly. “I’ll have the spinach salad,” she said.

  He nodded. “One glazed salmon with mashed potatoes and broccoli, coming right up.”

  It was her favorite dish, not that she ever ordered it, not when he insisted on it being on the house, and she looked down at her hands as he walked away, back to the bar, leaving her alone with Phoebe once more.

  Her rings caught the light behind her, the diamond flashing up at her, reminding her of her past, and her promise.

  She stuffed her hands into her lap before she could think any more about that tonight.

  She leaned back in her chair, sipped her drink, watched her daughter color, and tried not to let all the decorations bother her too much.

  It was Christmas. It would be uneventful. And soon, it would be over.

  Chapter Four

  Carrie

  Carrie hu
rried down Broadway to her favorite coffee shop, the very one that she and Lucas came to every Saturday morning to read before they decided how they wanted to spend the rest of the day. Only now, she realized, when its faded red awning came into view, she wasn’t exactly sure who it belonged to anymore. Was Lucas in there at this very moment, with his boring nature books and even more boring black coffee?

  They hadn’t exactly agreed upon the terms of their split, after all. There were the givens, like she knew better than to still show up at his firm’s holiday party last night. Instead, she’d binged on cookie dough and ice cream (yes, separately) and polished off a bottle of red wine while she tried to focus on a made-for-television Christmas movie but ended up fantasizing about Lucas having a change of heart, coming to his senses, realizing that he’d thrown away the best thing that had ever happened to him, and knocking on her door. He had a key, after all. He could get into her building. But he hadn’t come knocking, or calling, and now two sleepless nights had passed since he’d said he didn’t want to be with her anymore.

  Carrie turned at the next corner instead of crossing the street, deciding to duck into a Starbucks instead. She didn’t want to see Lucas. Not unless he was begging. Like, on his knees. With a ring. A big one. And flowers. Lots of them.

  She was proud of herself for not looking in the windows of the café, but she secretly hoped that he saw her walk by. That maybe he had looked up from his book, spotted her, and felt lonely. That maybe he was in there hoping she would walk through the door, that he’d been waiting for her, that they would reconcile. That he might come running after her. Or call, later.

  Still, just in case, she made sure the volume on her phone was set to the highest level, her heart sinking only a little when she saw she had no new missed calls or messages since she’d checked before leaving her apartment.

  The Starbucks was up ahead now, and she stopped at the next corner, perusing the magazines of a newsstand while she waited for the walk sign to light up, her eyes homing right in on the wedding magazines. Smiling, radiant brides in exquisite lace and satin gowns seemed to stare back at her. She was supposed to be one of them. You didn’t invest four years into someone without the assumption that you were in it for the long haul. That you had found the one. That you were committed.