Christmas on Main Street

by JoAnn Ross

  “Clint?”

  “Is that his name?”

  “Yes—but wait. He’s not my boyfriend.”

  Ronnie fisted her hands on her hips. “Okay, was your boyfriend.”

  “Some fifteen years ago.” When Ronnie’s eyes widened, Ava said, “Yeah, you were a little kid at the time.” She waved a hand upward. “Ancient history. Wait. How did you know that anyway?”

  “Are you kidding? Are you forgetting where you live? This is a small town, Ava.” Ronnie shook her head, making her cute elf hat slide sideways to a jaunty angle. “And Facebook sure does accelerate small-town gossip.” She laughed. “Even my grandma has an account. This news just might be trending on Twitter.”

  Ava put her hand to her pearl neckline. “Since when did little old me become great big news? I mean . . . are you joking?”

  Ronnie laughed. “A tiny bit, but the town is talking. Seriously, Ava, you need to do more in the way of social media.”

  “The store has a Facebook page and a Twitter account. I update it almost daily. The Christmas village is now our cover photo. And I tweeted about the twenty percent discount with a canned goods donation.”

  “I mean you personally.”

  “What would I tweet about? What I ate for breakfast?” She wrinkled her nose, thinking about the Special K that ended up having some sort of strange dried strawberries that got mushy with milk.

  “So tell me all about what’s going on between you and hot stuff.”

  “Nothing! Clint is Pete Sully’s son. He came home to keep an eye on his dad’s health. Coming back here has nothing to do with me.” She twisted the scarf around her index finger for a second. “So do you think he’s hot?”

  Ronnie grinned.

  “Okay, forget I asked that last part.”

  “Yes, he is seriously hot, you know, for an older dude.”

  Ava rolled her eyes.

  “What?” Ronnie flipped her palms upward. “Why do you always act like my compliments are insults?”

  “Someday you’ll understand.”

  Ronnie went back to building the castle but said, “So, I also heard that Clint was playing Santa in the parade instead of Pete. How was that?”

  “Awkward.”

  “Will he be stopping by the store later during the Christmas walk?”

  Ava busied herself lighting a pine-scented candle. “I sure do hope not.”

  “You are such a terrible liar.”

  “See now, I take that as a compliment.”

  “Weirdo,” Ronnie said but laughed.

  “Hey, normal is way overrated,” Ava commented as she walked around the store making sure that everything was ready for the busy day. When Ava had first opened the shop, her mother had often pitched in to help out. But once her brothers had started having children, her mother’s free time was taken up with babysitting. Hardworking and free-spirited Ronnie was a good fit for working in the toy store, and Ava had grown quite fond of her over the past few years. Ronnie had the perfect personality for putting on puppet shows and hosting birthday parties. Ava was going to miss her when she graduated from college and moved on with her life.

  “Are we ready to open, Ava?”

  “I think so. We’ll put the cookies and punch out at one o’clock. Just plug in the train on the Christmas village. Oh, and don’t forget the two canned goods thing.”

  “Gotcha.” Ronnie saluted as she walked over to the front door. But when she glanced out of the front window, Ava saw her stop and stare.

  Ava felt her heart skip a beat, thinking Ronnie had spotted Clint once again, but when she followed Ronnie’s gaze, it was Braden Greenfield who was commanding her little elf’s attention. “Well, now,” Ava said in a teasing tone.

  “What?” Ronnie asked lightly, but there were two pink spots of color in her cheeks.

  “You can’t fool me. You’re blushing.”

  Ronnie lifted her braid. “Ginger problems. We’re always blushing.”

  Ava nodded toward Braden, who was coming out of Grammar’s holding a large cup of coffee. “Braden’s pretty hot, you know, for a young guy.”

  “Ha-ha,” Ronnie said and then lifted one shoulder. “I guess so, if you’re into the whole cowboy look. Personally, I go for frat boys. Spiky hair. Abercrombie and Fitch.”

  Ava shook her head. “You’re kidding me.”

  “Of course I’m kidding you. Those Wranglers, boots, and that hat? Mmmm-mmm.” She gestured palm up toward the window. “Would you just look at him?”

  Ava laughed. “You had me worried for a minute. I babysat Braden. He’s like a little brother to me, but yeah, he’s a hottie, for sure.”

  Ronnie let out a long sigh. “I know.”

  “Make a play for him, Ronnie.”

  Ronnie turned away from the window and wrinkled her nose. “He’s dating stuck-up skinny-as-a-stick Stacy Meadows.”

  “Are they exclusive?”

  Ronnie shrugged. “I don’t know. But, Ava, she has mile-long legs and great big boobs.” She cupped her hands beneath her chest to demonstrate.

  “Ronnie Carlton, you’re gorgeous!”

  “Ava, I’m five foot two and wear a push-up bra to make the most of my itty-bittys,” she said in a deadpan tone. “At best, I’m perky and”—she shrugged—“cute.” She lifted her braid. “And I’m a ginger.”

  “Are you kidding? Just look at you in that elf outfit. And your hair color is natural and very pretty.”

  She rolled her eyes and pointed to her nose. “Freckles that makeup hides for, like, a minute. Like I said, cute. Not a blond bombshell.”

  “You’re also smart and funny.”

  “Yeah, well, long legs and big boobs get the guys.”

  “I think you’re selling yourself short.”

  “No pun intended, right?”

  Ava laughed but then sobered when a thought occurred to her.

  “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Ava, you have that look on your face. You know I won’t let up until you tell me. Just get it over with and save us both a lot of trouble.”

  Ava leaned against the counter for support. “It’s just that I used to think the same thing about Clint. He was big man on campus, and I was just this little ol’ farm girl. I wondered what he saw in me. I even lightened my hair thinking I needed to be blond . . . even though I’d never be a bombshell.”

  “Ava! You’re beautiful and funny and . . . Hey, did you trick me into this?” She fisted her hands on her hips but then smiled slowly. “Well played, Whimsy. Well played.”

  Ava laughed and then wiggled her fingers. “You’re like putty in my hands.”

  Ronnie rolled her eyes again and seemed about to reply, but a knock at the front door reminded them that it was time to open up. Customers immediately started pouring in, and the steady stream of business continued all morning long. The only time Ava took a break was when she hurried upstairs to let Rosie out to tinkle before the Christmas walk started.

  “So, do you think Clint will show up?” Ronnie asked while Ava replenished the tray of cookies. Clearly she wasn’t going to give up on their earlier conversation. Unfortunately, there was a break in the action while the high school band played a Christmas concert over on the town square.

  “I asked him to stay away, Ronnie.”

  “Ava! Have you lost your mind?”

  “It’s better that way.”

  “You don’t know that. I mean, what if—”

  Ava raised a hand in protest. “No more ‘what ifs’ or ‘maybes’. I’ve been down that road.”

  Ronnie picked up a tree-shaped cookie. “You’re forgetting one important thing.”

  “And that is?”

  “Clint is back, Ava. And that changes everything.”

  “It changes nothing.”

  Ronnie shook her head. “It’s Christmastime. Anything can happen. You just wait and see.”

  6

  Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas

  “Would y
ou just put the Santa suit on and head over to Ava’s shop, Clint? You damned well know you want to.”

  “That beard makes me itch.”

  “I meant you know you want to see Ava. The Santa thing is just an excuse to head over there.”

  “Dad.” Clint finished drying a wineglass and then whipped the towel over his shoulder. “You need me here at the tavern. As soon as the Christmas walk is over, you’re going to get slammed with thirsty customers.”

  “Son, I’ll handle it.”

  Clint turned and rested a hip against the sink. “Are you forgetting that I came back to help you so you’ll slow down?”

  Pete sat down on a barstool. “I’ve got plenty of hired help and they’ll be here soon enough. I just wanted everybody to have the chance to join in the festivities up on Main Street before their shifts.”

  “I mean help for you personally! Stop being so stubborn and let me help run things around here.”

  “No need to get so testy.”

  “Sorry, Dad.” Clint started pouring peanuts into small bowls lined along the bar. “I didn’t mean to sound like an ass. I’m just worried about you.”

  “There’s more to your mood than this. Tell me.”

  Clint sighed. His father had always been perceptive. It made him a great bartender. “Ava told me to stay away from her.”

  “Well, so what? Don’t do it,” he said.

  Clint had to smile. It was just like his father to get straight to the point. They had been so close during Clint’s childhood but had drifted apart after the divorce. The health scare made Clint realize that had to change.

  “Um, I don’t plan on becoming a stalker,” Clint stated with a shake of his head. He suddenly needed a beer but didn’t want to drink one in front of his father, who was doing a pretty good job of cutting back.

  “Don’t stalk her, Clint. Woo her. Win her over.” There was a bit of a haunted look in his father’s eyes that made Clint wonder if he was thinking of the mistakes he made with Maria, Clint’s mother. “Don’t blow having a second chance,” he said, but instead of his usual booming voice that Pete Sully was known for, his words came out low and gruff. “You might never get another one.”

  Clint had to swallow the emotion clogging his throat. “Are we talking about me, Dad?” he asked gently.

  “Not entirely.” Pete scrubbed a hand down his face. “I guess my little health scare got me thinking about my life and that I won’t be here forever.” He shrugged. “And Christmas has always been a tough time for me.”

  “Because Mom loved the holidays so much?”

  “Yeah, and with both of you gone, well . . .”

  “Dad, why didn’t you ever tell me any of this?”

  “Son, if we sat here all day, I wouldn’t be able to get through the list of things I should have said and things I didn’t do. Pride always got in my damned way. But when my ticker started giving me trouble, well, let’s just say it was an eye opener.” His father cleared his throat in a rare show of emotion. Clint always viewed his father as a big, tough, robust man, but right now he looked older, sadder, and, well, just tired.

  “I shouldn’t have stayed away so long,” Clint said, surprised when his voice shook.

  “I admit that I was surprised when you decided to live in California. Was it . . . was it because of the divorce?”

  Clint toyed with the towel and swallowed hard. He finally inhaled a deep breath and then blew it out. “No, Dad. It was because of guilt. I left you and Mom during a dark time. The tavern was struggling. You two were always fighting. But I was always the glue that seemed to hold you two together, and when I left, it all fell apart.”

  “Son, you had to take the scholarship. It was your chance at an education and a baseball career.”

  “Yeah, I know.” Clint laughed harshly and then leaned forward with both palms on the bar. “And I failed. Didn’t get drafted. I wasn’t good enough. For a long time I was too ashamed to come home a failure, knowing that if I had stayed, you and Mom might have made it.” He didn’t have the heart to mention Ava.

  His father looked at him for a long moment, and something happened that Clint has never seen before. . . . His father was crying. He brushed at tears leaking out of the corners of his eyes, and his big, strong shoulders shook. “Ahhh, Clint. Damn.”

  “Here.” Not knowing what else to do, Clint handed his father a few cocktail napkins and watched him blot the tears.

  “Trust me. I know all about stubborn pride and the damage it can do. Look, I know you and Ava were young when you broke up and she might harbor some hurt feelings, but, Clint, if there’s something between you two after all these years apart, imagine what could develop when you’re together.”

  “I pretty much told her that, but—”

  “No buts, Clint. And while we’re at it, let me tell you something else. I’m proud of you. You worked your ever-loving tail off to make it to the major leagues.”

  “But I didn’t make it.”

  “That’s not the important part.”

  Clint lifted his shoulders and let out a sigh. “Thanks, Dad. For a long time I felt as if not making it was a failure, and it kept me from coming home as often as I should. But my journey was really a stepping-stone to coaching. I actually get more satisfaction out of teaching than I got out of playing. I’m looking forward to working for Noah Falcon.”

  “You’ll be an asset to the coaching staff. But sit down. There’s more I want to talk to you about. You might want to grab a beer.”

  “Okay.” Clint felt his heart thud at the grave sound of his father’s voice. He considered refusing the beer but then decided that he might need it. “You want something?”

  “Yeah, I want a bourbon and Coke, but I’ll settle for a Diet Sprite. Can’t even have the Coke because of the caffeine.”

  “You’re doing great,” Clint said while he poured the drinks. “You’ve lost weight and already lowered your cholesterol. Give yourself some credit.”

  “Whatever . . .” His father waved a dismissive hand but then grinned. “But to be honest, I really do feel better.”

  “Seems like honesty is the word of the day,” Clint said carefully. After sliding the soft drink to his father, he came around and sat down on a stool. They had about an hour before people started pouring in after the Christmas open house walk, but the staff would be arriving soon, and he wanted privacy. “Shoot,” Clint said much more calmly than he felt.

  “You know how your mother and I met, right?”

  Clint took a swig from his mug and then nodded. “She was singing at a honky-tonk in Nashville. You convinced her to come to Cricket Creek to sing here at the tavern.”

  “Your mother is a talented woman, Clint. I kept her from pursuing her dream of being a singer-songwriter.”

  Clint frowned. “But you got married, had me. I thought she wanted to live here and raise a family.”

  “That’s what I wanted.” He tapped a fingertip to his chest. “When I’d catch her writing songs, I’d give her something to do at the tavern. When you came along, I made her feel guilty for doing anything other than raising you.” He sighed. “I told myself I was doing the right thing. I reminded her that she was a wife and a mother. I called her songwriting a pipe dream that she needed to give up.”

  “Aw, Dad . . .”

  “I know. I know. But once words are spoken, you can’t take them back. But, Clint, in truth, I was afraid that if she became successful, she’d leave me. And it was my damned selfish pride rearing its ugly head. When things got tough around here, Maria wanted to write some songs, try to get published and bring in some money, but dumb-ass me argued with her. I told her she was needed here and not piddling around with her music.”

  “Wow.”

  “Yeah.” He laughed harshly. “Is it any wonder that she left me? I should have offered to sell the tavern and move to Nashville. I knew it was what she wanted but would never ask. I didn’t want to give this place up. It had been in the Sully family for six
ty years.”

  “Dad, that’s understandable.”

  “Really? This is a building. She is”—Pete swallowed hard—“was my wife.” He shook his head. “And karma sure came back to bite my ass, didn’t it? Maria makes lots of money doing what she loves. She’s won awards, Clint. I robbed her of that for many years. Stubborn, selfish pride sure is a cold-ass bedmate.” A muscle jumped in his father’s jaw. “All I had to do was support her dream and things would have been so damned different.” He looked into the glass of Sprite and shook his head slowly. “You know that Keith Urban song, ‘Stupid Boy’?”

  “Um . . . yeah.”

  “That could have been written about me. I fenced her in until she realized that she could leave. And then she was gone.”

  “Did you ever tell Mom any of this?”

  “Hell no.”

  “Maybe you should.” Clint hesitated and then added, “You know she never bad-mouths you. She always just said that you two didn’t see eye to eye.”

  “Well, she always did have class. One of the many things I loved about her.”

  “You still love her?”

  “Yes, and I miss her every day.”

  “She might like to hear that.”

  “Ahh, Clint, your mother has a nice life. I don’t want to do anything more to screw it up. I’ve done enough harm already.” He pointed at Clint. “But if you still have feelings for Ava, then you should take this shot. If it doesn’t work out, then so be it. But don’t live with regret. Take it from an expert; it sucks. I’m telling ya, woo her.”

  Clint tilted his head and grinned. “Woo her, huh? You mean like standing beneath her bedroom window and singing?”

  “Hell yeah, if that’s what it takes!” Pete laughed and then clamped a hand on Clint’s shoulder. “But you might start with something simple like chocolate.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” Clint said, relieved to see the twinkle back in his father’s eyes.

  “So, are you going to head on over there?”

  “No. I think I need to give Ava time to adjust to the fact that I’m back. In the meantime, I’ll put a game plan together.”