All I Want for Christmas: A Contemporary Romance Holiday Collection

by S. L. Sterling

  Trent let out a sigh and the corner of his mouth went up in a smirk. "Drew, one thing about you, you always say it like it is. Good thing we are behind closed doors and not in a boardroom full of other lawyers." He fiddled with the pen on his desk and deeply sighed before continuing. "Drew, the other partners and I are going to ask you to take some time off over the holidays. You've been working non-stop since, well, since June, and we think you might need a break."

  I had nothing to say. This was just one more way that the wedding wench was going to screw me over, on top of the fifty grand I was still busy rebuilding in my investments.

  "So starting Monday, I don't want to see you here until the New Year, and when you return, we all want that lovable, level-headed Drew that we used to know. Got it?"

  I hung my head once again, feeling the weight of everything that had transpired six months ago. "Yes, sir." I placed my hands on his desk and stood up.

  Since June, I had plowed myself into every case that had been thrown my way, never giving myself any downtime. I had worked morning, noon, and night, and pretty much every weekend just to avoid the thoughts of Laura and what could have been.

  "What are you doing for the holidays, Drew?"

  "I'm actually joining my best friend and his family in Denver for the holidays."

  "Good, go home, Drew, spend time with family and friends. Give yourself a break and have a merry Christmas."

  "You too, sir." I did my best to walk out of that office with my head held high, but it only worked for a short while until I found myself back behind my desk looking down at that fucking invitation.

  I was beginning to think that this was going to haunt me for the rest of my life. I picked it up and threw it into my top desk drawer when my cell phone went off.

  "Hello."

  "Drew, it’s Zach."

  "What's up?"

  "Not too much. Listen, I just landed in Denver and I'm heading up to the chalet tomorrow."

  "Ah, well, have a safe drive! I'll see you when I get up there."

  "No, not so fast. I figured I would pick you up on the way. Mom and Dad are expecting you."

  "No, it's all right. I told you I would drive."

  * * *

  "Why, so you can sit and pine over what could have been for the next few days? No way. I'll see you tomorrow around one. You better be ready."

  "No, man, don't bother. I'll drive up myself on Saturday."

  Zach was already gone, and I was greeted with a dial tone as I spoke the last couple of words. I swore under my breath and pocketed my phone, grabbed my jacket and laptop, and made my way out of the office, shutting off the pathetic little plastic tree that sat in the corner before I left.

  I stood and looked out my living room window, sipping on my coffee. Dark-gray clouds hung overhead, making the day appear gloomy. The storm that was supposed to hit last night was more than likely on its way today, and from the looks of it outside, it was going to be rolling in early.

  I sat down on my couch and started scrolling through pictures on my cell phone, pictures I had sworn I would never look at again and didn't know why I hadn't deleted them yet. The same question rolled through my mind again: How could she just walk away?

  After I had paid the wedding bill and said good-bye to our 500 friends, co-workers, and highly judgmental family while profusely apologizing for the lack of wedding celebration and fun, I had called her. To be honest, I wasn't expecting her to answer, but she surprised me when she did. She didn't even sound upset, didn't even apologize. Instead, she was short and matter of fact, as if we were nothing more than mere acquaintances. It was that moment that I realized I had no idea what had happened between us.

  "Yo, Drew, you ready?" I heard the back door bang and Zach call from the kitchen.

  "Jesus, man, you scared me half to death. I told you I would drive myself!" I called out from the couch, quickly shutting down the screen on my phone just in time for Zach to step around the corner. I really should take my spare key back, I thought to myself as Zach grabbed an apple from the bowl of fruit on the counter and took a bite.

  "I know, but you are a lawyer, and lawyers lie. Where's your shit?"

  "It's ready," I answered as Zach looked around the room for some sort of luggage.

  "If it's ready then where is it?"

  * * *

  "God can't a man enjoy his Saturday morning coffee? Give me a minute and I'll get it," I said, getting up from the couch and heading toward my bedroom.

  "I had my morning coffee three hours ago," Zach called out as I returned carrying my bag. "You're only taking one bag? I thought we'd hit the slopes while we were up there."

  "Then I'll have to buy all new equipment. I sold all mine after..."

  "For God’s sake, man, she left. You're not dead. Single men can still ski, you know."

  One thing about Zach I could always count on was that he didn't coddle people, especially me. Everyone around me wanted to wrap me up tight and protect me from all the hurt they thought I had going on inside. Zach, though, treated me just like he always did, because he knew the truth: I wasn't hurting, per say. I was just stumped more than anything.

  "It's fine. I'll get new stuff up there."

  Zach nodded and took another bite of the apple. "We should get on the road before the weather gets much worse. We have a good drive ahead of us."

  "Yeah, yeah, give me a second to clean out the fridge." I walked into the kitchen, Zach following behind me. I pulled the garbage over to the fridge and signaled for him to hold the bag open as I began throwing stuff away that was sure to go bad before I returned.

  "Man, I really would have thought all this would have been done before I got here," he said between the last few bites of his apple, throwing the core into the bag.

  "And you said you would be here at one! Just relax, don't get your boxers in a bunch. You weren't even supposed to be here, remember? I was driving myself at one point." I laughed and dumped the remaining food into the garbage, tying the bag tight and pulling it from the can.

  "Give me this. Go grab the rest of your shit," Zach said, pulling the bag from my hand and taking it out to the curb.

  I hurried to set the timers on the living room lights and pulled the blinds closed. Carrying my duffle bag, I locked the door behind me and walked over to Zach's rented SUV.

  "Where the hell you get the granny mobile?" I laughed.

  "Shut up and get in. You try renting a vehicle a few days before Christmas. You are guaranteed nothing of style, even with a reservation that you made four weeks in advance."

  I laughed and hopped inside, glancing back at the house as he backed out of the driveway. Two weeks up in the mountains with people I had known my entire life, who treated me like family and never turned their back on me. I wouldn't lie, I was looking forward to it. If I came back with nothing but a rested body and mind, I would be okay with it, but what I really wanted this Christmas were answers.

  5

  Alexa

  * * *

  I took my purse, leaving the remainder of my bags in the cab that was sitting in my parents’ driveway. I quietly climbed the stairs of the front porch and stood at the front door and rang the bell. I watched through the hole in the wreath as Mom came around the corner from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her red Christmas apron, stopping to adjust a blanket on the back of the couch before she even looked out the front door at who it was. As soon as her eyes landed on me, she ran to the door and ripped it open.

  "Lexi, oh my God, Lexi." Mom threw her arms around me, hugging me tightly. "When...How did you get here?" she asked, letting me go, looking at me, and then pulling me back against her again.

  "I took an Uber, Mom." I laughed as my face smashed against her shoulder as she pulled me in for yet another hug.

  "An Uber? Lexi, you should have called. We would have come down to the airport and picked you up," she said, hugging me tighter.

  "I know, but I wanted to surprise you." I laughed, hugging her back.
"Are you surprised?"

  "Jim. Jim, get down here," Mom called over her shoulder and pulled me in the house. "Of course, I'm surprised."

  "Mom I need to get my bags," I said, trying to stop her.

  "Nonsense, your father can get them. Jim..."

  "For the love of God, woman, what is it?" Dad yelled as he ran up the stairs from the basement.

  "Look who's home!"

  * * *

  Dad turned the corner and took one look at me. "Lexi! How's my girl?" he asked, pulling me in for a hug.

  I leaned in and hugged him, taking in a whiff of his cologne—Old Spice. The familiar scent reminded me of when I was five years old and I would curl up on his lap every chance I got for story time. "I'm good, Dad," I said, hugging him tightly.

  "Jim could you get Lexi's bags from the driveway?" Mom asked, sweeping me inside.

  "Sure thing," he said, grabbing his boots from the closet, while I shuffled things around in my purse looking for my wallet.

  "Here, Dad, money for the cab," I said, handing him a bunch of folded bills.

  "No, no, I got it. Go in and get comfortable and put your money away," he said, throwing his coat on and running down the stairs to the cab that waited in the driveway.

  Within minutes, Dad had all my belongings inside and was taking everything upstairs to my old room, Mom following behind me as I climbed the stairs with one of my small bags. I walked into my old bedroom; it looked exactly the same as it had the last time I had been home. I walked over and sat down on the double bed and picked up Mr. Wiggles, my most favorite teddy bear from when I was a kid.

  "Mom, why do you still have Mr. Wiggles out?" I asked, letting out a laugh as I looked at the bear with a missing eye.

  "Because it wouldn't be your room without him," she said, coming into the room carrying an extra blanket over her arm and laying it at the bottom of my bed.

  "Thanks for the extra blanket," I said, setting Mr. Wiggles back down.

  Dad set the suitcases down in the corner by the closet door. "What a wonderful Christmas present," he said, wrapping his arms around me again.

  They both watched as I grabbed one of my bags and began emptying it and shoving clothes in my dresser drawers.

  "All right, we are going to go downstairs and get dinner started. You get settled." Mom grabbed hold of me and kissed my forehead. "I cannot believe that you are actually here. Your father is right, what an amazing Christmas gift." She squeezed me hard and finally let me go and looked down at all my luggage on the floor. I could tell she wanted to ask about all the luggage I had brought, but she didn't say anything. She just quietly closed the door to my bedroom, Dad following behind her, and left me to unpack.

  The next afternoon, I sat in the kitchen with a warm cup of hot chocolate in front of me while watching my mother roam around gathering ingredients for the next batch of cookies she planned to make.

  "Did you want any mini marshmallows in that?" she held up a bag of the little multicolored marshmallows I loved.

  "Sure."

  She handed me the bag and continued searching the pantry for ingredients, placing the containers of cinnamon, nutmeg, and sugar down in front of me, then she began pouring ingredients into a bowl. It had always amazed me how my mother could bake. She made it look completely effortless. The woman very rarely used a recipe, often pulling the ingredients from some mental cookbook. I had no idea how she did it, but every single item she baked turned out perfectly. I certainly didn't have her talent. Not one thing I had ever tried to bake in my lifetime had turned out.

  I dumped in a handful of marshmallows, stirred them into the hot liquid, Mom glancing at me every now and again.

  "So, Lex, it's not that I’m not happy to have you home, but what gives?"

  "What do you mean?" I asked, finishing topping off my mug with more marshmallows.

  "Lexi, I'm not stupid. You brought all your bags home," she said, waving my grandmother’s wooden spoon at me then stirring up the mixture in the bowl. She claimed it was all because of that wooden spoon that everything turned out the way it did.

  "Mom, you’re acting as if I never come home. I was just here a few months ago."

  Mom stopped what she was doing and looked at me, studying me, trying to read between the lines.

  "Really, Mom, I'm fine. Everything is fine. I was just really missing home," I said, bringing the mug to my lips and sipping the now super-sweet chocolate marshmallow mixture.

  "Lexi, you were home over thirteen months ago." Just as Mom went to say something else, the oven timer went off, signaling that the batch of cookies in the oven was finished, changing her train of thought. She bent down and removed the tray, then slid the cookies off onto a cooling rack before sliding the next sheet of cookies into the oven. The smell of chocolate chips filled the air, which made my mouth water. When she turned around to put more doughballs onto the baking sheet, I snagged one of the fresh hot cookies from the rack.

  "Ouch," I let out as I inhaled a breath, the hot chocolate burning my fingers.

  * * *

  "Lex, careful, those are hot," Mom scolded as I bit into the hot, soft cookie. It fell from my hand onto the kitchen island, breaking into two pieces. I gave her the same smile I probably had when I was five after stealing hot cookies from the cooling rack. I picked up a piece of the cookie and popped it into my mouth. One thing I never had to worry about: Mom cleaned better than she cooked. That cookie could have fallen onto the floor and I would have eaten it.

  "What are you making now?" I asked, nosing into the bowl in front of me.

  "Sugar cut-outs," Mom said as she moved the cooling rack over by the stove, no doubt so I wouldn't eat all the cookies before they had cooled. "Want to pick out the cutters?" she asked, handing me the familiar dented and scratched red tin that she stored the cookie cutters in.

  I lifted the lid and started searching through the tin for my favorite ones, while Mom started adding ingredients. "Oh, Mom, I could really use a new bed," I said, pulling out a Christmas tree-shaped cutter. The bed I had was old, and even though it held all the familiar dips in the mattress, it was much smaller than what I was used to.

  Mom stopped what she was doing and looked at me and laughed. "Lex, whatever is up with you, promise me you will tell me when you know. As for a new bed, we'll see what we can do okay." She sighed, picking up that wooden spoon again and began stirring what would eventually become the sugar cutout batter.

  "Mom...how many times must I tell you, nothing is wrong."

  "I know my children, Lex. Something isn't right. I'm not going to pry or force you to tell me. So, just promise me that when you have figured it out, you'll share."

  I ignored what my mother said, picked up the last piece of cookie from the counter, and popped it in my mouth as I continued picking out the cutters. Once I had the ones I wanted, I continued watching as Mom mixed in ingredients and stirred, every now and again checking on the cookies that were in the oven. How she knew something was up when I couldn't even explain what was going on with me was beyond me, but she did know her children, I would give her that.

  Truth was, I didn't know why I had such a strong urge to come home. Perhaps it was because it was Christmas and my least favorite time of the year to be alone, or something greater had pulled me here which I had yet to understand. Whatever it was, I was content to be here.

  The familiar sounds of the washing machine, the smell of the cinnamon, apple, cranberry concoction Mom had boiling on the stove to make the house smell more Christmassy, or the welcoming feeling of home as I stood in the driveway… Whatever it was, I was just happy to be sitting in the kitchen, drinking hot chocolate and eating the best warm chocolate chip cookies in the world.

  6

  Drew

  * * *

  "Hungry?" I asked, holding up a bag of sour cream and onion chips as Zach pulled the car from the gas station parking lot and back out onto the highway.

  "Starving. Open those up."

  I clicked
my seatbelt into place first, and then peeled open the bag of chips. I took two chips and shoved them into my mouth before setting the bag in between us on the console. Zach reached in and took a couple as well, while I pulled back the tabs on the two cans of pop I had bought.

  "How are things going at the firm?" I asked as I popped another chip in my mouth and wiped my hand on my jeans.

  "Good, busy. You?"

  "Busy. You know I'm glad that I told you I would come up for the holidays. I needed a break from all that shit." There was no way I was going to let on that the firm had agreed I needed holidays. "Mind if I turn up this song?"

  "Go for it," he said, tapping his thumbs on the steering wheel as he drove.

  I reached over and cranked the volume. I just wanted and needed to shut everything out for a while, and that was exactly what I planned to do.

  "You realize this is the first time we have spent any time in length together since we took holidays in the spring, right?"

  "Yeah, how could I forget? That was a great time. How's things with Ann Marie?" I asked as I drank down the remainder of my pop and shoved the can into the empty bag that sat at my feet.

  * * *

  "Couldn't be better, man. She'll be up with her family this week as well, and I believe she is coming to spend Christmas afternoon with us."

  "That’s great, man. It will be nice to see her again." I sat back, relaxing against the heated seat and thinking back to last spring break.

  I had gone out to visit Drew and Ann Marie for a week by myself because Laura had to work. As the week went on, I remembered thinking to myself that their relationship was so different from ours. It was the little things: the way that Ann Marie touched Zach, the way they looked at one another in the quiet moments. I tried not to let it get to me and just chalked it up to the fact that the relationship was relatively new. However, thinking back now, our relationship hadn't ever been like that, even when we were first dating.