I look down at the marching band. “Yeah, we should have made this a tradition a long time ago.”
“Plus we can see Mark from here. And Shawn.”
I lean forward. She’s right. “Yep, and they’ll never notice us up here.”
“What do you think about Shawn?”
“The lawyer?”
She rolls her eyes. “No, the other Shawn, the candlestick maker.”
I hit her with a pillow. “Stop it. This man is after everything we hold dear. Besides that, he thinks he can buy me with a beach towel and a couple of paperbacks.” Just thinking about the anonymous gift, my face grows hot in spite of the cold. Especially since I’m pretty sure I never mentioned those books in front of him. Considering he’s Mark’s friend, it’s not hard to guess who he’s pumping for information about me. Maybe I should have Mark sign a non-disclosure agreement. But today isn’t the day for that discussion. “Ames, What do you think I think about him? I’m trying to wait until after your wedding to declare war.”
“Honestly though. If you could ignore the fact that he’s working for Summer Valley, would you think he’s cute?”
I sigh. “Get real. His eyes are so blue I found myself humming Blue Christmas over and over the other day at the North Pole. And that dimple in his chin? You could park a sleigh in it.”
“So. . .” Ami shoots me a coy look. “His eyes are depressing and he has an abnormally large hole in his chin. I’ll take that as a no.”
If it wasn’t her wedding day. . .“He’s incredible-looking. And you know it. But even if he weren’t the enemy, he’s still a lawyer.” I almost scream the last word, then sit back because we may be twenty feet in the air, but sound carries. I’m not sure what kind of response yelling “lawyer” might cause in a crowd. I’d hate to cause mass panic and ruin the parade. “Just because you’re in love doesn’t mean I need to be,” I whisper to make up for the scream.
“I know,” she says, as she makes her nest in the big armchair. “But it’s so nice.”
“I’m glad.” And I really am. “You and Mark are made for each other.”
“There’s someone out there made for you too, K-anna.”
“Um-hum. . .” I pull my fleece blanket up around my cold hands. It’s too much trouble to disagree, but the truth is, I’m not so sure. I thought Jeff was the one, right up until the horrific scene the day before our wedding. And then came my disastrous rebound relationship with Nathan. He epitomized that elusive childhood crush, the best friend’s older brother, whom you never speak to, but worship from afar and write mushy diary entries about. After I was all grown up and had a broken heart that needed healing, his attention was a balm to my tattered ego. He was fresh from a break up, too, so I’m sure I served the same purpose for him. We came to our senses just in time and realized we weren’t in love with each other, but not before I officially became known around here as the bride who couldn’t make it to the altar.
“Here come the horses,” Ami says, jolting me from my memories. “And there’s the youth group float.”
Garrett’s pulling our church youth group’s float this year. He has his window down in spite of the cold temps and his arm rests lazily on the door. Probably wants to be sure he can hear any extra commotion on that trailer packed with excited kids. Conscientious is his middle name.
“It’ll drive him crazy, wondering why we’re not on our corner with Mark.”
As soon as she says that, he leans out his window and waves up at us.
I grin and wave.
Ami jerks back. “He saw us!”
I glance over at the corner. “It’s okay. Mark’s not looking. Garrett’s the only one who noticed us.”
“Weird to be watching the parade without Garrett,” Ami says as the tail end of his trailer goes over the hill.
“Everything’s changing.” Maybe that’s why I’ve been so snappy lately. It just feels strange. Like the world is one notch out of sync.
“And I started it.” Ami’s voice cracks a little.
“Hey, don’t do that.” I can feel my own throat clog. “This is the happiest day of your life.”
She grins, her eyes misty. “It is. But I’ll miss you and Garrett. Us.”Reality slams into me like an avalanche. We’re over. The terrific trio is no more. How much will Garrett and I hang out once Ami isn’t here? Even I can see that will seem odd.
She reaches out for a hug. Then buries her face in my shoulder. “What if I’m not good at being a wife?” This time her voice is thick with tears, but I have no trouble recognizing cold feet.
I smooth down Ami’s hair. “Mark is your future. He’s God’s man for you. And your marriage is going to be wonderful.”
She mumbles something against my shoulder.
I release her. “What?”
She sniffs. “I said, do you think I have time for a bubble bath before our hair appointments?”
I push away the churning in my stomach and smile for the bride. “Definitely.”
~~~~~
Amazing how much pressure it takes off when you’re not actually the one getting married. I made it down the aisle just fine. Now I stare at the doorway waiting for Ami and her father to appear, being careful to make the audience remain a blur. Being in front of crowds isn’t my thing and fainting might ruin Ami’s moment. Although, she’s so focused today, she’d probably just have a couple of the groomsmen pick me up and cart me out so the ceremony could continue.
This thought draws my eyes to the groomsmen. Bad mistake. Shawn is looking straight at me, so naturally I avert my gaze. Then I think, hey, he was looking first, why should I look away, so I look back. By then his attention is elsewhere, but Nathan nods at me. It’s kind of weird to be standing up here with an ex-fiancé just across the aisle. We parted on good terms, but there’s a tiny feeling of what might have been. If the fantasy of being in love had been reality. I jerk my gaze away. Some roads are better left untraveled.
My gaze flits to Garrett and his warm smile calms me. I can’t believe how freaked out I’ve been about Ami getting married. We’ll still be the terrific trio. We’re just adding a fourth. Okay, so technically that’s not a trio, but we’ll be the fearless foursome or something. We’ll make it work.
Just as I’m thinking Garrett looks good in a tux, he gives me a discreet thumbs up and the wedding march begins. The crowd rises and Ami, radiant in white, floats gracefully down the aisle on her dad’s arm. The ceremony goes off without a hitch. I almost cry a couple of times, but no sobbing out loud. So that’s a good thing.
I am still a little teary, I guess, when it’s time to take Garrett’s elbow and walk out. He brings his other hand up and over mine and I look up, startled. I’m undone by the compassion in my friend’s green eyes.
~~~~~
“Walking down the aisle wasn’t that hard, was it?” Geraldine hugs me and then keeps her hands on my shoulders. “Maybe you won’t run away next time?”
“I didn’t—”
She steps back and looks at me. “Now, now, I read Jack’s piece. Good journalism.”
Yellow journalism is more like it. I could have won a libel suit with no problem if I wasn’t so nice. The café owner is the fourth local today to mention my little foray into pre-wedding desertions. And of course, Shawn is on my left in the receiving line, taking this all in. To his credit, the lawyer-come-lately hasn’t asked me what they’re talking about, but who knows? Maybe he’s read the back issues of the Jingle Bells Journal.
“That boy might make a good husband.”
I jerk my attention back to Geraldine, terrified that she’s fingered Shawn as “good husband” material. “Who?”
“Pay attention, girl,” she says gruffly. “Jack Feeney. He’s an up and coming star in the newspaper world.”
Garrett reaches over from the right and gently touches my elbow. I hear his unspoken words. “Hang in there, sport.”
Still looking at Geraldine, I nod. Message received. “You know Geraldine, Shawn here is
new to town. I was telling him about the amazing polar bear burrito you make at the North Pole. Rumor has it you use real bear meat.”
She draws herself up to her full six feet, her purple satin dress stretched taut across the shoulders. “You know I don’t use bear meat!”
“And I didn’t run away.” I smile to take the sting out. Since Gran was so well-known and I spent a lot of time here growing up, the townspeople think they helped raise me. “Honor thy father and mother” takes on a whole new meaning for me in Jingle Bells. It’s a fine line.
Geraldine shakes her head and moves on to torment the rest of the wedding party.
I sag back against the wall, thankful for a lull, even though it’s at Ami, Mark, and Garrett’s expense. The Stewarts have the bride and groom cornered with a mini-seminar on the subject of wedded bliss. Next to me, Mrs. Bloomfield is pinching Garrett’s cheek over and over and telling him how she remembers when he used to collect aluminum cans for extra money. I’m considering how to rescue him. After all, he saved me with Geraldine.
“So you’ve got your eye on Jack Feeney?” Shawn studies me intently.
I tilt my face to the ceiling then stare at him. “Are you kidding me?”
He grins. “Yes.”
I shake my head. “Don’t mess with the maid of honor.”
Mrs. Bloomfield lets go of Garrett and skims quickly past Shawn and me. I guess since—even though I stayed with my grandmother a lot—I wasn’t officially raised in Jingle Bells, I’m off the hook. She moves on down to Ami’s younger sister, Amber, and Nathan. But here come the Stewarts. Who thought up this whole receiving line tradition anyway? A torture expert?
The Stewarts own the flower shop. Their son Barry actually runs the shop now, but the older couple spend most of their days there, telling anyone who wanders in how to have a romance like theirs after sixty years. This might not be a bad thing. If every third sentence weren’t punctuated by a kiss. Sounds romantic, but gets old after a while.
“Kristianna, Kristianna.” Considering the length, you’d think Mr. Stewart wouldn’t stick with his habit of saying everyone’s name twice when it comes to me, but he always does. A matter of principle, probably.
“Hi, Mr. Stewart, Mrs. Stewart.”
They kiss. In honor of my greeting, I guess.
“You’re a good friend, sweetie, to forget your own heartbreak and stand beside Ami today,” Mrs. Stewart says, wiggling her painted-on eyebrows and shifting her head toward Nathan. Shawn follows her body language directions, but I stare straight ahead. Just when you think it’s safe to go back in the water. . .
“True love will come.” This from Mr. Stewart. “Won’t it, dear?” Kiss. Kiss.
I can stand up to Geraldine, but these lovestruck octogenarians are beyond me. I’m helpless to protest.
Mrs. Stewart pulls her hand from her husband’s clutch and pats mine. “Maybe we can help—”
Shawn clears his throat. “Did I hear someone say you all did the flowers? The orchids are particularly exquisite. And fragrant.”
My hero.
The Stewarts talk to Shawn about flowers for a minute, then move on down the line quickly, beaming. I mouth a “thank you” to him as soon as they’re gone.
“You owe me,” he murmurs, his grin still in place.
“That figures. Never expect a lawyer to help for free.”
After Jim Johnson shakes our hands, I lean against the wall again. “I didn’t ask you to rescue me, so I can’t possibly owe you.” I meet his gaze directly and lower my voice. “You might as well know. I made a commitment to get along with you today for Ami and Mark’s sake, but come tomorrow, you’re in for the fight of your life.”
“Fair enough.” His dimple flashes. “In that case, do you want to go out after the reception?”
A surge of adrenaline brings me upright. “With you?”
He nods but doesn’t speak. Probably horrified that he asked someone out who doesn’t have a high enough I.Q. to realize he’s asking her out. But he didn’t say “with me,” he just said “go out.”
I instinctively glance at Garrett. I’d assumed we’d hang out after the wedding. Commiserate about Ami getting married. Check out the festival downtown. But he looks pretty cozy with Mark’s co-worker. The long-legged redhead doesn’t seem in any hurry to move on down the line either. Garrett and I have the rest of forever to commiserate and I don’t feel like being alone this evening.
Shawn is still watching me.
“Okay.” My mind revolts. Okay? What was wrong with “No, thank you?” or even “Kind of you to offer, sir, but I’m cleaning the grout in my kitchen?” I think the orchid fumes are finally getting to me.
Chapter Seven
“So you’re going out with Shawn after we leave?” Ami turns for me to unzip her white satin dress.
I shrug. “I don’t think it’s a date.”
She glances over her shoulder at me. “I’m surprised you agreed to go.”
“Yeah, me, too.” I snag her going away dress from the closet and pass it to her. “It looks like Garrett probably has plans and I didn’t want to go to the festival alone.” Is that pathetic or what? But if you can’t be honest with a friend, who can you be honest with? I plop down in the rocker while she changes.
“So you like him?”
I jerk my head up. “Who?”
She frowns. “Shawn. What’s wrong with you?”
If only I knew. “Nothing. I have no idea how I feel about Shawn. To be honest, what fascinates me the most is the basket. And especially the note.”
“Have you asked him about that?”
I shake my head. “I’m planning on bringing it up tonight. There’s nothing to lose, I’ve already let him know that tomorrow the battle begins.”
“And I thought your Sheera years were over.” She slips on her shoes and digs around in her purse. “I should have known you let that gorgeous blonde hair grow back out for a reason.”
“Hey, when you can have Princess of Power as your last name, why give it up?”
She laughs as she touches up her lipstick in the wall mirror. “I’ll have to warn Garrett that you’re revisiting that Masters of the Universe phase after all these years.” She spins around. “What do you think?”
“I think you’re a married woman.” I take her hands in mine. “And it looks good on you.”
“Thanks, Kristianna.” She drops a kiss on my cheek and gives me a hug. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“Me too.”
“The ornaments were perfect. Did you hear everyone going on about them?”
I smile. “They really seemed to love them.”
“Of course they did. Someday when you’re famous, that will become the most valuable wedding favor in the history of mankind.”
“In your dreams.”
“We’ll see.” She tucks her arm in mine and leads me back toward the reception hall. “Let’s go get you at the front of the line to catch the bouquet.”
I try to pull away, but short of wrestling the bride to the ground, I don’t see how to get loose. “Thank, but no thanks.” As we reach the crowd, I lean toward her and lower my voice. “Why didn’t you offer to let me go to the front of the line for the buffet? Then I’d have known you were really my best friend.”
Naturally, I do catch the bouquet. Ami has her heart set on it and for today, she gets her way.
As Ami and Mark run down the sidewalk, we pelt them with birdseed. She gives me a hug as they go by. While they get into the car, I wave and grin until my cheeks hurt almost as much as my heart. I’m starting to wonder if I’m the type of person who doesn’t handle change well.
An arm slips around my waist and I glance up to find Garrett smiling down at me. How does he always manage to do that? Know when I need him and be there.
“Thanks.” I give him a one armed hug and tap his boutonnière with my free hand. “A tux is a good look for you.”
“That will come in handy if I ever decide to become a mait
re d’.”
“Or be in a lot of weddings.”
“Speaking of weddings. You going to let me be your best man?”
I’m startled, until I realize he’s nodding toward Ami’s bouquet in my hands.
“Oh.” I toss him a saucy grin. “Sure. If you’ll let me be your maid of honor.”
“It’s a deal. Want to run change and check out the festival?”
My smile freezes. Why had I been so sure he was with the redhead? We always used to go to the festivals together, especially this one. Even the early years we were in college, before Garrett’s mom moved away, we all came home for the Christmas Festival. I feel like a worm. “Um. I told Shawn. . .I thought you were. . .That is, we were going to. . .”
Garrett just nods, his eyes unreadable. “No problem.”
“Let’s all go together. Shawn won’t mind.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Then he’s more generous than most. I’ll look for you. We’ll see how it goes.”
“Right.”
He sprints down the sidewalk toward his truck. I stand there alone in the mulling wedding crowd, feeling like I’ve lost my two best friends.
~~~~~
Shawn stares at me then at the horses plodding around in a circle. “You’re really going to go for a pony ride?”
I nod. “Really and truly. But they’re horses. Not ponies.”
“Why?”
“Because they grew up?”
He frowns. “You know what I mean. Why ride these horses? They go around in a circle. Slowly.”
I smile. “I’ve done it every Christmas since I was a little girl. No year ever seemed like the year to stop doing it.”
“Maybe this is the year?”
I put my finger to my cheek as if I’m considering it. “Nope. I don’t think so. You sound like my dad.” My parents had decided since I was going to be tied up with Ami’s wedding, they’d wait until Christmas Eve to drive over. When I’d reminded them of our traditional weeklong holiday, Dad had suggested that with Gran gone, maybe this was the year to be realistic about how much time off they could afford and cut that down to a couple of days. “It must be a lawyer thing.”
Forever Christmas Page 5
