If she had any doubt Wednesday night about whether or not she and Nate had a possible future, she was completely sure now.
They’d never work.
Ever.
Like, ever ever.
She’d known him four whole weeks, and she was already beside herself with worry about him halfway across the globe. What if the plane went down? What if a war broke out, or a terrorist attack, and he couldn’t get home? What if he found some Japanese beauty who captured his heart?
Odd the whole trust thing. They weren’t even officially dating, and she was already worried about him cheating on her, just from his description of his past.
But how stupid was that? It’d be like him worrying that she was out here smoking weed or something, which would be absolutely ridiculous.
None of that mattered though. They’d never work out if he traveled as much as he said he did. She’d worry herself into an early grave.
Grabbing another present, a scarf and earrings for Kendra, she put them in a small box, laid out the foil wrapping paper and measured her cuts.
She normally didn’t wrap presents at eleven-thirty at night, but then again, she didn’t normally worry about a businessman in Japan, either.
It would help if he'd do something crazy like call her or send her a message or something. She hadn’t heard from him except for a quick text on Friday, letting her know he’d landed safely.
Of course, there was a time difference.
But it was, what, after noon their time?
He probably wasn’t calling now because he assumed she was asleep.
He assumed wrong.
Why don’t you call him?
She ripped a piece of tape from the dispenser and secured the paper on the backside of the box.
No. No way was she going to resort to showing him how desperate she was to talk to him.
He’d think she was some clingy woman who couldn’t handle a few days alone.
That was definitely not her. She’d been walking on her own two feet since she was seventeen years old, with just a little bit of assistance from her parents.
Okay, maybe more than a little.
But she was a grown woman.
Then why were her fingers itching to pick up her phone and dial?
Finishing the wrapping, she tied a shiny, wide purple ribbon around the present and made a bow on the top. She grabbed one of the homemade gift tags she made, wrote a little note, and attached it to the gift.
There.
The last of the presents wrapped. She’d already finished Mari’s last night, and the small tree that sat in front of the front window looked complete.
Scooching back, she rested against the couch and pulled her cell phone from her pocket.
No missed calls. No missed texts.
Should she?
No. She’d already decided a future together would be insane. She could never do it. So why lead him on by calling?
Yet—she didn’t want him to think she didn’t care. Maybe she’d just call and leave a message. He was probably too busy to pick up anyway. She could just tell him she wanted to make sure he still planned on being home by Monday so he could come to the play Tuesday night. That the kids were counting on him.
Not her, of course. Just the kids.
Decision made, she clicked on his name in her contacts.
The phone rang three times and just as she thought voice mail would pick up, his voice filled her ear.
“Hey, beautiful. You’re up late.”
Her heart did a little pom-pom cheer of joy while her brain registered the mistake she’d made in calling. “I just thought I’d call to—uh—make sure you were still coming home on Monday.” What had sounded like a great idea seconds earlier now sounded faker than fake when she voiced it.
“Sure you are. I’m sorry I hadn’t called earlier. I’ve been in one meeting after another.”
“Even on a Sunday?”
“Even on a Sunday. You’re in luck though. We’re in the middle of a break, and I’d just stepped outside for fresh air when you called.”
Lucky her. “You never answered my question.”
The low chuckle that came across the slightly fuzzy signal warmed her stomach better than any hot cocoa ever could. “Yes, I’ll be home. My flight leaves tomorrow, and I’ll get in there around ten on Monday. Then I plan to sleep pretty much the rest of the day.”
She read between the lines. Don’t expect to see him until Tuesday.
Which was fine with her.
Really.
“Okay. Well, good luck with the rest of your meetings.”
“That’s it?”
She hugged her knees to her chest. “What do you mean, that’s it?”
“Come on, Sadie. You didn’t just call me to check my arrival times. We both know it.”
Fiddling with the hem of her snowflake patterned pajama pants, she searched for words, but nothing sounded right. She didn’t want to get into this over the phone. “I just—wanted to say hi. Is that so bad?”
“Not at all. I’ve been wanting to say hi too, but afraid I’d scare you away if I called too much.”
“You wouldn’t scare me away but—I don’t think this is working, Nate. I can’t—”
“Shhh. Remember? Leave tomorrow to God. Let me get through this meeting and back home to you, and then we can talk.”
Home? She wasn’t even sure he realized he had used the word. A memory drifted to her of one of their first conversations, when he told her he didn’t have a home.
Could that be changing?
Regardless, it didn’t change her situation. “This is hard.”
“What is? Breaking up with me when we aren’t technically even together? Or being apart from me and not technically being together?”
“I’m not even sure what you just said there, Mr. Smart business man.”
“I like kissing you, Sadie.”
Heat crawled down her spine as she touched her lips where, just a few days ago, his had been. “I like kissing you too.” Truth, right there.
“I like talking with you.”
“Me too.”
“So let’s just leave it at that for now. Will you spend Christmas Eve with me?”
“You know I’ll be insanely busy at the store all day, then at the play in the evening.”
“After the play, then.”
“Not that I don’t want to spend time with you, but Mari and I have a tradition of hot cocoa and singing Christmas carols at the top of our lungs then watching White Christmas. It is non-negotiable. And I’m sure Kendra wants to spend the evening with you.”
“What if we did it together? Go back to your place after the play?”
The thought was too enticing. “That could work.”
“Good. It’s a date then.”
“No, not a date. More like a—small Christmas Eve party.”
“Let’s not argue semantics. I need to get back inside, but I’ll text you when I’m home, okay?”
No. It wasn’t okay. But she agreed, said goodbye, and hung up.
Just lovely.
She was going to spend Christmas Eve with a guy who she really liked but had full intentions of breaking up with immediately after.
Although—could you break off a relationship that you never officially started?
Regardless, the ache in her heart that rivaled the miles between them in size told her that she had no other option.
Plus, she had Mari to consider. Her daughter needed her, whether she wanted to or not.
This little Christmas romance had been fun, but Mari was more important, and she had to put a stop to this before her heart got even more involved.
Fifteen
Nate sat in the second row pew beside his sister, something he hadn’t ever thought possible.
His little sister, dogmatic agnostic, sitting with him in church, getting ready to watch little kids sing about the birth of the Savior.
If nothing else came from his relationsh
ip with Sadie, he would always remember this moment. Church wouldn’t save Kendra. Only Jesus could do that. But it was a step in the right direction. He’d seen a softening in her lately, but then again, it was the first time in years he’d been around for more than forty-eight hours, so he wasn’t an expert where his sister was concerned anyway.
Guilt knifed through him.
He should have visited more often. Stayed longer. She’d been a nomad for the last eight years after graduating college anyway, living in LA for a while, then New York and finally settling here.
Small town living seemed to agree with her, even though it was starkly at odds with how they both were raised.
The piano began playing, and Sadie entered from the side door of the room, followed by a row of little angels.
They each found their taped off spots and stood tall, excitement glowing from their eyes. A few stood on tippy-toes and waved big when they found their parents.
Next came the rest of the actors and actresses, followed by the miniature Joseph and Mary, who carried a baby doll to represent Jesus.
The play went off with a lot of glitches.
Cute, adorable glitches that left not one face in the audience without a smile.
Peter sang at the top of his lungs during his solo, at one point forgetting the words and just making up his own.
One angel stole another’s halo.
The halo-less angel sat down on the stage and wailed for Mommy, who quickly came and scooped her up and took her back to sit with her.
Half of the kids with speaking parts stood terror stricken in front of an audience and spoke with monotone voices, not the great acting they’d shown in rehearsal.
One kid shouted his lines instead of speaking them.
But there wasn’t a bone in his body that could be prouder of those kids. He’d only been there the last four practices, but he was invested in them. His heart already loved every single child.
They were no longer scary. He understood now why Jesus had welcomed the children.
The play came to a close with a moving scene of a shepherd kneeling before the baby doll Jesus and kissing him on the cheek while the angels sang Hark the Herald Angels Sing.
Sadie had wanted to end the play with that, because regardless of how your culture celebrated Christmas, it should all point back to the birth of the King of Kings, Love's gift to the world.
The congregation clapped as the kids took bows and rushed to sit with their parents.
The lights dimmed, and Sadie slipped into the pew beside him as the music director began to lead them in “O Holy Night.”
He pressed a hand to her back and leaned in to whisper. “You did a great job.”
She mouthed Thank you then sang along.
This.
Right here.
This moment was perfect. His sister, the last remaining family member he knew, on one side. And on the other side, the woman who, crazy as it sounded, had captured his heart.
He’d had a lot of time to think and pray on the plane.
And considering how dismal his Tokyo meeting had gone, he had never been surer of a direction God was leading him.
His divine finger was pointed directly at this sweet, amazing, passionate, courageous woman standing next to him.
The woman he had gone and fallen in love with.
Sixteen
The house was quiet as Sadie snuggled under Nate’s arm on the couch, enjoying the warmth he offered even as her mind shouted all the million reasons she should have insisted Mari stay downstairs until he left. Kendra had claimed exhaustion and left a few minutes ago.
It was Christmas Eve, though. For the next hour anyway.
She could enjoy this feeling one last time, right?
They’d had an amazing evening. The play had been nothing short of hysterical. Then Kendra and Nate had added the perfect touch to the traditional Christmas Eve gathering, Nate belting out carols like a pro and even enjoying White Christmas, claiming he’d never seen it before.
She hadn’t known there was a person left in the world who hadn’t seen the iconic movie.
Bing Crosby and Rosemary Clooney reminded her of Mom and Dad, especially at the end all decked out in their gorgeous red suit and dress. Classy and full of smiles.
That had been her parents. What she wouldn’t give to see her dad decked out in his Santa suit just one more time. Maybe that would be odd for most people, but it was normal for her.
Man she missed them.
Nate stroked her arm with his thumb in circular motions, the fire crackling, adding just the right touch of ambiance. “If you could do anything, Sadie, what would it be?”
Stay in this moment forever. “What do you mean?”
“Let’s say the boutique wasn’t an issue and you could pick anything, what would you do?”
Give up the boutique?
Even the thought sent shivers of some emotion she wasn’t sure how to describe. Fear, excitement, exhilaration, all wrapped into one. Could she really set aside her parents' dream?
“I think—I honestly don’t know. My parents loved that store. They always dreamed—”
“But I’m not asking about their dreams. I’m asking about yours. What are the gifts God has given you? If money and Mari and your parents and the boutique weren’t an issue, and it was just up to you, what would you do?”
She studied the fire, the flames licking at the logs, and searched her heart. Was she really so one-dimensional that she had no big dreams of her own? Had she really put all her eggs in other people’s baskets?
Nate shifted so he caught her gaze, then lifted her chin with his finger. “Let’s try this. What are a few of your favorite things?”
She smiled at his Sound of Music reference from last week. The man had been listening. “I think—children. I love kids. Maybe it was being a mom so early in life, but I’ve always been drawn to children and their innocence, you know? I loved working with the kids on the play these last few months.”
He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth, his eyes twinkling. “Are you saying you want to be a mother again?”
Her cheeks burned hot at the suggestion. Her? A mom again? “I’m—I’ve honestly never thought about it before. So no, that wasn’t what I was saying. I can’t imagine going through all those stages of motherhood again.” But she was only thirty-four. Half the women her age were just starting out having children these days.
“It’d be different this time though.”
She laughed. “Oh? You’re an expert in child rearing now too?”
“You know me. Kid at heart. But you went through it alone last time, not to mention you were still a kid yourself.”
She shook her head. This conversation was veering out of control. “Well, it’s a moot point anyway. I’m not married and that would have to happen for me to even consider such a thing. No—maybe a teacher? I’d be good at that, I think.”
“So, what’s stopping you?”
Leaning away, she twisted to look at him. “Uh, how about everything? I own a Christmas boutique that will barely keep the lights on this month. I have a daughter going to college next year and no way to pay for it. I’d have to go to college myself when I barely got my GED eighteen years ago.” She pushed away. The warm fuzzies of the evening had fled the room as reality slapped her in the face. “Listen, Nate. I know you mean well. But—you were right the other night, you just had all the wrong reasons. It has nothing to do with my past or your past. We’re just—two different people. Living different lives that don’t fit together. I’d never make it knowing you were off gallivanting around the world to who knows where for months at a time.”
He didn’t move an inch, but she could see the muscle in his jaw tighten.
“And then there’s Mari. Even if we did figure out how to make this crazy relationship work, I refuse to leave her. She’s going to UT Chattanooga next year. I want her to have a place to come home to. She’s my whole world, and I can’t u
proot her and leave her with no familiar place to go.”
“The world doesn’t revolve around your daughter, Sadie. She has to make her own place in it.”
“That’s just it. My world does. I can’t just send her off and say, I fell in love, sweetie, so see ya later. Good luck with life.”
“No one is asking you to do that.”
“Then what are you asking me to do?”
He reached up and fingered a strand of her hair. “To snip off the string you have her tied to and let her fly. To let yourself fly.”
She stood up and propped her hands on her hips. Walking over to the wall that held Mari’s baby pictures, she shook her head. “That’s ridiculous.”
“Is it? She’s eighteen. She already graduated high school. She should be off enjoying college and starting a new chapter in her own life now, not sitting at home, worrying about her mom being lonely.”
Sadie spun around. “How dare you.”
“How dare I what? Tell you the truth?”
She pointed a trembling finger toward the front door. “Get out.”
“Sadie—”
“I said get out. Now.”
He stood and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “I’ll leave after I say one last thing.” His eyes drilled into her as if he were digging for gold. “I love you, Sadie Jenkins. I know it’s crazy and probably too soon to tell you that, but it’s the truth. I have no idea how we’d figure it out, but there is no future for you period when you’ve already closed off your heart and marked it ‘Mari only.’”
A moment later, he was gone.
Sadie stood, staring at the closed door, listening to the car door slam, then tires crunch in the snow as he drove away.
A noise from upstairs grabbed her attention. “Mari?”
Silence.
Making her way back to the living room, she dropped to the couch and buried her face in her hands.
Was he right?
Maybe.
But—what did “cutting the string” look like? Mari was already set to finally go to college in the fall, but the boutique was supposed to help her save up money.
What would Mari do if she just up and closed the boutique come January? For that matter, what would she do?
A (kinda) Country Christmas: A Christian Holiday Romance Page 8
