“Afternoon, ma’am. Can I help you find something?” An elderly man in a green costume touched her elbow, making her jump. Oh good Lord. She hadn’t seen an elf in ten years, either. “Did you lose your family?”
She shook her head slowly as her chest squeezed in pain, but she tried to cover it with a fake smile.
He pointed at her feet. “Hope you got some more comfortable shoes in that bag of yours. It’s a big park.”
Josie couldn’t resist looking at his feet, and he smiled as he followed her eyes. “I know what you’re thinking, but these curly toes aren’t so bad after the first few falls. You learn.” He winked. “You have a happy ho-ho day now.”
Josie managed another tight smile, wondering how many times she’d be able to hear that phrase before her head exploded.
She glanced down, realizing that in her pencil skirt and sleeveless shell, she looked like a health inspector on a surprise visit. Employees were probably already squawking the alert code over the radios, sure she was about to tackle the snack cottages with her state-issued clipboard.
So much for blending in.
Taking another shaky breath, Josie set off to her right. Time to get as far away from Elf Central as possible, since she had absolutely no idea what would happen when she finally met Ethan again. All she knew was that she was so not ready to find out.
As she rounded the first curve in the path, the sound of the roller coaster assaulted her ears at the same time she got a whiff of sickeningly sweet cotton candy, and she wrinkled her nose at both. She’d loved that roller coaster right up till her ninth birthday, when one too many bags of pink fluff and one too many coaster rides had resulted in one very sick little birthday girl.
The walkway curved around a monstrous rock left by a long-ago glacier, and she came into a clearing that housed Rudolph’s Razzamatazz, a snack cottage, and a toddler ride where the kids rode in swings shaped like Christmas ornaments. The rides were the same as when she’d left, but they looked freshly painted and shiny in the sunlight.
As she came to a fork in the path, her breath caught. To her right was the outside loop of rides, which eventually circled around to Ole Ben’s maintenance garage. To her left, up a little rise, was the Ferris wheel. She could see its cars sliding by the tops of the trees, and as she watched, her breaths started coming shorter and faster.
Finally, she ripped her eyes away and struggled to swallow the softball that seemed to have lodged itself in her throat. How had she thought she’d be able to walk around this park, where memories were bound to pummel her at every turn?
Just then, a short, chubby elf who had to be a hundred and twenty years old ambled by with a broom and dustpan. For a moment, Josie expected she should recognize her, but she didn’t. She got a funny, sobering feeling low in her gut as she realized she could very well walk around this park she’d grown up in, and ten years later, not know a soul.
The elf deftly swept up a candy wrapper, then smiled at Josie. “Why so serious, honey? Beautiful afternoon, isn’t it?”
Josie looked up at the sky, which was an unusually deep blue for this time of year. The tall firs framed a couple of puffy clouds, and the swish of pine needles preceded a playful breeze that wreaked havoc with her carefully straightened hair. The temperature was just pushing eighty, but the humidity was zilch, so it was one of those rare days that made it onto the gift shop postcards.
“Sure.” Her voice was tentative as she breathed in, realizing just how long it’d been since she’d smelled the crisp pine scent that defined Snowflake Village.
Had she ever missed it?
No. Not possible.
“Well, you have a happy ho-ho day, then, dear.” The elf-lady tottered on by, scooping a stray leaf into her dustpan. So clean they could eat off the paths, honey. Dad’s voice crept into her brain. That’s the Snowflake Village way.
Josie took a few steps, pausing under a giant pine to pull her blouse away from her sticky skin. Maybe it wasn’t humid, but clearly it’d been a while since she’d done the goat-path thing in heels. She felt for her ever-present Evian bottle, but had left it in her Jeep.
As she looked around, she was struck again by the notion that not much had really changed here. The paint on everything still shined bright, and the employees all had crisp red polo shirts and Santa hats on, along with their supersized Snowflake Village smiles. Have a happy ho-ho day! they crowed, piercing Josie’s eardrums every time she heard the phrase.
But they were only doing what they were paid to do: don the hat, don the smile, and create a universe where it was Christmas every day of the year.
Once again, she’d entered the world where reality was optional—where for eighteen dollars you could cover your problems with cotton candy and sparkles.
Too bad jingle-bell therapy ended when the gates closed at dusk.
Too bad it also ended when you got old enough to know better.
She heard a metallic clanking sound and looked down the hill toward the maintenance shed. Sounded like Ole Ben was working on his endless to-do list, as he always had. What would he say if she showed up on his proverbial doorstep after all this time?
Would Ethan think to look for her down there, if he got word she was wandering the park? She doubted it, so it seemed as good a place as any to hide until she worked up her courage.
She angled off the path and around the back side of the Penguin Plunge ride, which was teeming with screeching teens. Trying not to ruin her heels beyond repair, she hobbled down the hill behind yet another snack cottage and headed toward the open door of the maintenance garage.
“Well, if it isn’t my Twinkle-toes!” Ben’s back was to her, but his voice boomed out the open door just as she raised her hand to knock on the frame. “You get right in here, girl!”
Josie felt a laugh sputter out, tension slowly draining out of her pores as she stepped onto the cement floor of the garage and right into Ben’s huge embrace. “Hey, Ben! How’d you know it was me?”
“Heard those heels clip-clopping down the hill and figgered you were about the only one who’d be running around here in city-girl shoes but still know where to find Ole Ben.”
Josie smiled. “You’re still in the same place. That helped.”
The maintenance area looked as it always had, cluttered and dusty, but somehow homey. She breathed in the smell of fresh lumber and Ben’s familiar Old Spice, and felt herself relax a little bit more.
“How’s your dad?” He took her hand in his huge one and led her over to one of the spinning stools beside his workbench. “Did you just come from the hospital?”
Josie nodded, trying to clear visions of tubes and beeping machines out of her head.
“He’s—I don’t know.”
“Tough thing, this.” Ben nodded. “I imagine it scared the bejeebers right out of you to see him like that.”
“I couldn’t—couldn’t stay, Ben.” Josie fought to keep a hitch out of her voice. “It’s been forever, but I just … couldn’t.”
He put an arm around her shoulder, hugging her close. “You will, Twinkle-toes. You will. One step at a time. And till you’re ready, you just hang out with Ole Ben. It’ll help break up the quiet around here.”
Josie laughed softly as the cacophony of park noise filtered down the hill. Snowflake Village was never quiet.
“Hey! Do you want a grape Popsicle?” He popped up from his stool, heading for the ancient fridge in the corner of the garage. “I got a brand-new box!”
Josie’s mouth opened in surprise. “You still keep grape Popsicles down here?”
“Yep.” He opened the freezer door. “But the boxes last too long now. Nobody to help me eat ’em. Want one?”
“You bet I do!” Josie laughed. “I haven’t had one since … forever.”
He strode back across the floor and handed her the Popsicle. “So I don’t s’pose you’ve seen Ethan yet?”
“Not yet.” Again the softball threatened her throat.
“And you�
��re not avoiding him by sitting on my stool and eating up my Popsicles?” His eyebrows curved high on his forehead.
“Definitely not.”
“Then I guess you can stay for a bit.” He grinned at her, then reached out to tweak her nose like he’d always done. “It’s good to see you, Twinkle-toes. I think Ethan might even agree with me, once he gets over the shock of having you here.”
Josie crossed her arms carefully. “That’s probably a bit of a stretch, Ben.”
“You’ll be fine. Don’t you worry. You’re both all grown up now. Things change.”
She pushed out a nervous breath, kicking at a pebble on the floor. “Did you—did you ever tell him what happened before I left, Ben?”
Ben was quiet as he fiddled with a wrench. “That been bothering you all these years?”
She nodded slowly, cringing as she shrugged.
“No, Twink. I never told him about that night.”
He looked at her, studying her eyes for a long moment. “But he might know more than you think, honey. I think you’d best be prepared for that.”
Chapter 3
Later that afternoon, Ethan rubbed his eyes as he pushed back from the computer screen on his desk. He’d tried to prioritize all of the items in his and Andy’s to-do piles, but fourteen of them were still vying for first place, and it was already closing time.
When Josie’s mom had called earlier with the news about Andy, he’d assured her that he could hold down the fort until they knew more. Now, after only one day, he wasn’t so sure. Between the two of them, the Snowflake Village business office ran like a well-oiled machine, but that was because both he and Andy dedicated far more than the standard forty hours a week to the job.
Could Molly fill in for a few days? No. He discarded the thought almost as quickly as it came into his head. Between working at her parents’ restaurant and holding down the director’s desk at Avery’s House, she already struggled to find a spare moment. The fact that she’d squeezed in a blind date on a Friday morning was testament to that.
Diana’s parting words this morning had hung over his head all day. Josie’s coming home, and you and I both know how she feels about hospitals. Maybe she could help out? Just get us through the weekend, at least?
Ethan sighed. The only place Josie hated more than hospitals was the park, so odds were slim that she’d ever agree to it even if he’d said yes.
Which he hadn’t.
He glanced out the window and watched as employees ushered lingering guests toward the exit, then shook his head as he realized his eyes were searching for Josie’s long, curly hair. But there was no way she was here. No matter what the circumstances, he couldn’t imagine her ever stepping through Snowflake Village’s igloo entrance by choice.
She’d made a clean cut ten years ago—of the park, of her parents, of Molly … of him.
He pulled open the bottom drawer of his desk, sliding out the double-framed picture that had sat in there since he’d taken it off the wall long ago. He and Josie smiled out of the left frame, sunburned and happy, arms linked around each other at the lake. On the right was a photo Josie probably hoped had disappeared a long time ago.
In it, she wore a ridiculously huge princess costume and was sitting in a giant timpani, laughing, having just fallen off the park’s stage during her first-ever solo. He’d never forget how the other actors had ad-libbed their way through the rest of the scene while trying to maneuver her back out of the huge drum, like they’d planned for her to actually fall into it.
Ethan smiled as he touched the photo. She’d kill him if she ever found out it still existed, but it reminded him of happier years, happier summers … a happier Josie.
He sighed as he pushed his mug into the Keurig machine on the wide windowsill and plucked the darkest possible coffee from the rotating holder beside it. It was going to be a long night.
As it brewed and trickled, he thought he heard the sound of a woman’s shoes coming up the stairway.
Ah hell.
Molly didn’t wear shoes that sounded like that.
The heels clacked softly down the hallway toward the office, then slowed just outside the open doorway. He looked up just as Josie lifted her hand to knock on the door, and thanked God he hadn’t yet picked up his coffee. If he had, it would have scalded his entire bottom half as he dropped the mug.
Though he’d only had hours to do so, he thought he’d steeled himself for this moment. But seeing Josie framed in the doorway, he realized he hadn’t. At all. The damn woman had occupied his dreams for more than ten years, but now that she was up close, he could see that eighteen-year-old Josie had grown up. A lot.
Where her body had been a collection of sweet new curves covered by innocent pink and peach cotton, her clothes now exuded an urban vibe. She looked like a model, slim and strong, from her high-heeled shoes to her skirt, wide black belt, and dark gray sleeveless blouse. In place of the curls he’d touched a thousand times, her hair was now sleek, shiny … straight. She probably thought she looked the height of fashion, but to him, it looked like she could use a few of Mama Bellini’s burgers to put some meat on her bones.
Dammit. She still used that apple-y shampoo, though. He could smell it, and immediately he was eighteen again, sitting on a blanket by the lake with her in his arms.
The silence stretched on just long enough to be completely uncomfortable as he stared at Josie. In her face, he could see the same mermaid-green eyes he’d loved, but they looked more vivid now, accented with eyeliner and mascara. Her nose still turned up at the end, and to his chagrin, it still made him want to run his index finger down it so she’d playfully slap his hand away.
“Josie.” It was all he could do to force the word out of his mouth.
He saw her swallow hard before she spoke.
“Ethan,” she whispered. Her hand was still poised in the air, ready to knock, but it looked like she’d forgotten it was there. He took some comfort in knowing she looked as off-kilter as he was. His innards felt like a Tilt-A-Whirl on high speed, but he’d be damned if he’d let her know that.
He took a slow breath, studying her while he tried to gain control of his voice. What the hell was he supposed to say to her? Every line he’d rehearsed for the past eight hours fled his brain.
Finally she saved him by speaking first. “I—I don’t think I know what to say.”
“That makes two of us.”
“Did Mom tell you she asked me to help out this weekend? Here? At the park?” Her voice was sort of catchy and nervous, which surprised him.
He shook his head. Diana had already asked her?
“Oh.” Her eyes flitted around the office. “Um … well … she did. Which is … strange. I know. It’s all strange.” The smile she attempted barely reached her cheeks, let alone her eyes. “But anyway, she did.”
“I see.” Ethan hated himself for enjoying her discomfort, but there had to be some karma in the universe, right?
“So…” She waved her fingers vaguely. “I’m sorry. This is sort of Twilight Zone-ish. You weren’t expecting me. Obviously. But here I am, I guess.”
“Here you are.” He sat back down in his chair and threaded his fingers together behind his head, trying to give off a relaxed, unconcerned vibe. Yeah, that was it. He’d play it super-casual, unaffected. Definitely wouldn’t play it like it was. “It’s been a while.”
Josie dropped her hand slowly. “I, um, I—” She pointed to Andy’s chair. “Do you mind if I sit for a second?”
Ethan motioned with his hand. Sure. Sit down. Waltz into my office ten years after you went all Runaway Bride and never looked back. Make yourself right at home.
He waited while she settled her purse on the floor and adjusted her high-heeled shoes. Though her hair and body had changed, her voice was still the same one that had haunted his dreams for years now. He hated himself for wanting to keep her talking.
“How’s your dad doing this afternoon?”
“Not great. Soun
ds like it could be … pretty bad.” She took a shaky breath as she smoothed her skirt.
“How does he look?”
“Terrible.”
Ethan studied her as she adjusted her skirt again, pulled off a stray piece of dark hair, rubbed her heel. Had she actually gone through those hospital doors? He could hardly believe it.
“I stayed for a while, but wasn’t quite ready for the Mom-reunion … so I came here, I guess.” She gestured at the metal desks faced toward each other like Ethan and Andy were Law & Order partners, then vaguely out the windows. “I walked around a little. Things here look pretty much the same.”
“That’s kind of the way it goes here, but I’m sure you remember.”
He swore he was trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice, but it wasn’t quite working. For God’s sake, all he wanted to do right now was gather her in his arms and make the scared look on her face go away, wanted to kiss her full lips and see if she still wore strawberry lip gloss, wanted to—ah hell—wanted to do a whole lot more than kiss.
Her voice broke through his thoughts. “So … what can I do to help? Till Dad’s … better?”
Right. No way was he going the self-imposed-torture route here. No way was he going to let her get under his skin by invading his space—or his brain.
He cleared his throat. “We’re fine here. You should be at the hospital with your parents.”
“Mom said you’d say that.”
“She was right. I can handle things for now. You need to be with your family.” Definitely not here, sitting in your dad’s chair, looking like an all-grown-up figment of my imagination.
He sat up straighter, leaning on his desk like he needed to get back to his big, important job. “We’ve got things covered here.”
Maybe she wouldn’t notice the piles of work sitting on both desks. Or realize he was fabricating his confident voice in order to get rid of her before the scent of her had his thoughts spinning in a direction he couldn’t handle.
She sighed. “There’s nothing I can do at the hospital except sit and wait for news.”
Forever This Time Page 2
