by Olivia Miles
Amazing!
He turned to the next page, where the snowman was dancing. When you pressed a button at the bottom of the page, music played. And did it play! For fifteen minutes straight, thanks to Audrey’s endless enthusiasm for pressing the button.
He read the story to her five times over, amazed at how much she…understood it. There was a personality in there. A little girl whose zest and smile sort of reminded him a bit of Charlotte.
When she fell asleep in his arms twenty minutes later, he found himself strangely disappointed. They were just starting to have fun!
“It’s awfully quiet in here,” Marlene said, appearing in the doorway. She reached out her hands. “Want me to bring her up?”
“No,” Greg surprised himself by saying. “I can do it.”
He slid his arms under the baby and carefully stood. She was light, requiring little effort to hold, but he walked up the stairs as if treading on glass. He didn’t breathe until she was set down in her crib—safe and sound.
He stood for a moment, watching her eyelids flutter with sleep, before he finally turned off the lamp and closed the door.
* * *
Charlotte pushed through the swinging door into Elizabeth’s kitchen, her arms laden with the ingredients she planned to use to make tonight’s signature drink. White cranberry juice, vodka, and simple syrup. She’d also picked up some cranberries and mint leaves for a garnish.
Kate was setting out martini glasses, while Colleen put the finishing touches on her contribution for the evening: a stunning white cake that glittered as if it had been dusted with fresh snow.
Charlotte set out her ingredients, determined to make her effort match everyone else’s. It was her sister’s shower, after all. No one else could say as much. But still, she couldn’t overlook how good they had all been to her sister. Especially back when Kate needed it the most.
Right. She would make it up to Kate one step at a time, and tonight’s way was through her Winter White Cocktail, as she was calling it. She’d only be having one herself, and nursing it, considering she still had to drive back to the Frost house and no doubt Audrey would have her up throughout the night.
Frowning, she pulled her phone from her pocket and checked the screen. No missed calls. No text. Nothing. Was this a good sign or a bad one?
She’d sneak away and call to check on Audrey. Once she’d made her cocktail.
“I think my cake is ready to go to the buffet table,” Colleen announced. She stepped back to wave her hands game show host–style over the dessert and Kate and Charlotte both dutifully clapped. Clapping was indeed warranted.
Charlotte felt glum. Even though Colleen was a trained pastry chef and had gone to school to learn things like cake decorating, she couldn’t help but wish she was good for something more than bringing the alcohol tonight.
She sprinkled some sugar onto a plate. So help her, this garnish would look like it did in the picture in that magazine she’d skimmed in the grocery store checkout line. The cranberries and mint would sparkle just as bright as Colleen’s cake. And it would be the drink they would all be talking about, not about how Charlotte had gone and mucked up her sister’s first engagement.
Colleen carried her cake through the swing door, leaving the sisters alone.
“You shouldn’t worry about setting out the glasses,” Charlotte scolded gently. “This is your party. Go out there and relax.”
“I will in a bit,” Kate said. She snagged a mini quiche from a tray and leaned a hip against the counter. “This was really sweet of you guys to surprise me with the shower. Makes it all feel so real!”
“It is real,” Charlotte said. She frowned at the not-so-sugary cranberries on the plate. What was she doing wrong?
“Bree hasn’t said anything about the flowers for the Frost party,” Kate suddenly said.
Charlotte dropped the cranberries onto the plate and stared at her sister in dismay. “You’re checking up on me?”
“What? No.” Kate shook her head. “I stopped by there on my way here to check on the flowers for the Loren wedding and she mentioned it to me.”
Ah. Charlotte again felt silly. She grinned, thinking of what a bridezilla Hannah Loren was. “Now that’s one wedding where I wouldn’t want to try to catch the bouquet. No doubt by the end of the night, she’ll be slamming it into the crowd!”
Kate laughed and popped the rest of the mini quiche into her mouth. “I have to admit I’ll be happy when this one is over. And I think her fiancé will, too.”
“If he doesn’t jilt her first,” Charlotte murmured, thinking of how many times she’d overheard Hannah snapping at the poor guy every time he offered up a suggestion.
She looked up at her sister, panicking. She’d done it. She’d put her foot in her mouth. Ruined what was the promise of a nice party by stirring up the past.
She opened her mouth to apologize, but Kate just reached for her wineglass and said, “I forgot to tell you Hannah’s latest request!”
Charlotte blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “Oh?” She turned uneasily back to the cranberries and mint leaves. What was the point of a signature drink without the garnish?
“She wants an ice sculpture for the cake topping.”
Now even Charlotte had to laugh. “But won’t it be rather…tiny?”
“That’s what I said!” Kate laughed. “I had to conference poor Colleen into the call to explain that either the entire cake would have to be kept frozen or the ice sculpture topping would melt in about ten minutes flat. Hannah threatened to find a cake baker who would accommodate her wishes, until Colleen was nice enough to offer up a solution.”
“Which was?”
“She’d going to make something out of sugar that will resemble ice.”
Charlotte whimpered at her not-so-sugary cranberries. Wait! She needed to make them stick. Duh. She wasn’t thinking clearly. This was her first night out with the girls since Audrey had been born and her head was in two places at once. But her heart…her heart was still with Audrey.
Was she crying right now? Hungry? Would Greg remember to drop the milk on his wrist, check the temperature before popping it into her mouth? And what if he dropped her? What if he was carrying her down the stairs and his heel slipped and…She shuddered and brought the colander over to the sink and turned on the faucet. Greg hadn’t called her. Or the police. And this was her sister’s engagement party. She tried to keep things light. “Was Hannah satisfied with that?”
“Once we pointed out that she’d have trouble finding a baker to take an order on such short notice, she was.” Kate clucked her tongue. “Please don’t let me ever become this crazy over my wedding.”
“How are the plans coming along?” Charlotte asked, feeling that familiar sensation twist inside her gut. It was bad enough that Elizabeth was hosting tonight’s shower and not her—wasn’t the sister the obvious choice, and wasn’t her role as a guest especially glaring? Weddings felt like such a touchy subject between them—even if it was their business.
“I just have a few more things to decide on, really,” Kate said, and Charlotte couldn’t help but think of the bridal party. Had her sister already decided and just chosen not to mention it? Perhaps Kate was tiptoeing around their relationship as much as she was.
It wasn’t like Kate to cut things so close. Maybe she’d already made the calls. Maybe Charlotte just hadn’t made the cut.
Could she blame her?
The familiar sense of shame weighed heavy, reminding her why she wouldn’t mention her run-in with Jake any more than she would mention that he was never involved in Audrey’s life. The past was a fact; there was no dismissing it, and maybe, no forgetting it.
Kate set down her wineglass carefully. It was clear from her hesitation that she had something to say. “If you’d like to invite someone as your guest, you know you’re more than welcome to.”
“What?” Charlotte laughed, but then immediately frowned. First Bree and now Kate! Was it this imp
ortant to them that she find a man?
“I’m just saying…you don’t have to let me know yet. I can always leave a spot open, just in case.”
Charlotte shook her head firmly. “I have no intention of bringing a date. Besides, who would I invite?” Greg, she considered, but that would be a conflict of interest, considering he was technically a client. Besides, come January their agreement would be over. She’d be on her own again. Just her and Audrey.
She frowned deeper, even though she knew it was for the best.
Kate gave a smile. “No pressure. But if someone comes along…”
Charlotte turned back to her garnish. She’d already had one man disappoint her daughter; why should she give another the same opportunity? Still, everyone—except her—seemed to think that a man in her life was exactly what she needed.
Or did they just mean a traditional family, a father under the same roof?
“I have more important things to worry about than dating,” she said firmly. Like protecting my child from further pain and rejection. “Like the flowers for the Frost party.”
And some other unmentionable details her sister need not know…
Chapter Twenty-One
Twenty-four hours to go.
Twenty-four hours until Misty Point’s annual tradition arrived—from the parade to the hot chocolate stands to the tree lighting.
Sometimes she considered that she had imagined it. After all, Simon had been on her mind far too much these past few months. But no, it was real. Simon had broached the subject of the tree lighting. She had replayed the conversation enough times, while staring at the ceiling, a customer who had just asked a question, or a green stoplight until only the sound of honking horns could snap her back to the present moment. No, she was certain that Simon had suggested it. She had simply nodded, agreed to it, something like that.
Regardless of the murky details no doubt brought on by a complete emotional meltdown that had rendered her unable to fully process what was happening during the conversation in the parking lot, she was certain that Simon was looking forward to seeing her. Tomorrow.
Tomorrow…Her heart began to soar, and just to keep from completely drifting away for the rest of the party, she gave the rubber band on her wrist a particularly hard snap.
She winced. Well, that was a good sign. It meant she hadn’t had to snap it in a while.
More like she had stopped thinking there was anything wrong with thinking about Simon again…
Simon. Just the name made her smile—she couldn’t help it. He wasn’t perfect, and things had certainly unraveled by the end, what with her looking for more of a commitment and him, well, looking for more space.
And space was what he’d had. And now maybe he realized that he didn’t like that space.
She plucked a truffle from the tray. She couldn’t decide which was sweeter—the chocolate or the satisfaction of knowing that Simon had missed her.
She’d wear her red cashmere Christmas scarf and her good black coat that hit just above her knee, right near her best black boots. So she might be a little cold. She’d live! She’d wear that red sweater that everyone always complimented her on, too…Just in case he suggested they go for a drink afterward. Or back to his place…
Flick. Flick.
Now Elizabeth was raising her wineglass—one of the set of ten that Bree had given Elizabeth for her bridal shower last summer—and the room fell quiet. Everyone stared at Elizabeth, positioned in front of her mantel, just to the side of the beautiful fir tree that stood proudly in the bay window, glistening with lights and silver ornaments.
Maybe Bree would get a Christmas tree after all. Maybe Simon would help her decorate it! They’d done that last year. Sort of. She’d been all excited about sharing the experience, but he’d hung one ornament and let her do the rest while he turned on the television and kicked off his socks.
Her mouth thinned. Well. No use thinking like that. He’d grown up a bit. Learned from the errors of his ways.
“I just wanted to make a toast,” Elizabeth was saying. She turned to Kate, smiling proudly, as only a best friend could. “Kate, you made my special day the wedding of my dreams, and I hope that your day is every bit as magical. You deserve it, honey.”
The guests started to clap, and even Bree felt herself begin to tear up, until she noticed Charlotte. Charlotte was not clapping. Charlotte did, however, look like she was blinking back tears, just perhaps not the happy kind.
She scooted down on the couch until she was within earshot of her cousin. Kate was starting to open gifts now, and everyone was oohing and aahing over the loot.
“Everything okay?” she asked.
“What?” Charlotte felt her cheeks heat. “Of course.”
“I liked your cocktail,” Bree offered, even though it was a little hard to drink with those cranberries floating around in it.
“The cranberries were supposed to be sugared. They were supposed to glisten, like they were covered in snow.” Charlotte looked tense.
“Well. They look pretty just as they are.” Bree patted her knee. “Are you sure everything is okay?”
“Of course, it’s my sister’s bridal shower,” Charlotte replied, turning away.
Bree sank back in the couch. Something told her there was a lot more going on than Charlotte was saying. About the shower. And about a whole lot more.
* * *
She had forgotten to call Greg. Imagine that, a mother had clear forgotten to call and check on her child. Whom she had left with a man who seemed to know nothing about babies.
What kind of parent did that make her? One night off duty, and it was like she was single again, without a care in the world!
Charlotte’s hand gripped the steering wheel as she hovered five miles over the speed limit, hugging the winding roads back to the Frost house.
It was the shower. And Kate’s hints about finding a date. And Elizabeth’s speech. And those damn cranberries.
She should have been the one to tap on her glass, make a toast. And she’d considered it. She’d thought she might stand, say something, but then her mind had gone blank and all she could think about was the drink. Her lone contribution to the event.
And then her sister was opening gifts. And then…the moment was lost.
Elizabeth would probably be chosen as maid of honor, and really, Charlotte just needed to accept that. Elizabeth had stood by Kate when Charlotte had failed her. And now Kate and Elizabeth were going to be sisters-in-law.
Kate hadn’t seemed disappointed by Charlotte’s lack of toast, or by the fact that she hadn’t hosted the shower. Had she preferred it this way, that Charlotte take a backseat, hover in the background, where she couldn’t make any more trouble?
Tears wetted her eyes, but she didn’t cry. She was on a mission. To get home. To see her baby. To get her life back under control again.
The snow was picking up, and she flicked on her windshield wipers, grateful when the iron gates appeared just ahead.
She practically ran across the cobblestone path to the back door she now preferred to use, saying a silent prayer that the reason Greg had never called was because everything was under control.
She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Marlene in the kitchen, making herself a cup of tea.
“Oh thank God,” she said, and caught the glimmer of amusement in Marlene’s eye. “Is…everything okay?”
“More than okay, I should say,” Marlene said with a slow smile. “Audrey is sound asleep. She woke up about twenty minutes ago, and I gave her a quick change before she dozed off again.”
“And Greg?” Charlotte frowned.
“I think your little girl won him over,” Marlene said. “And wore him out. He’s been asleep for hours, started snoring in front of the television. I didn’t have the heart to wake him.”
Charlotte could barely believe what she was hearing. “So…it went well. He didn’t mind?”
Marlene took a sip from her mug. “I think he w
as a little uncertain at first, but if you ask me, I think he enjoyed himself.”
“Well, good!” Charlotte still couldn’t wrap her head around it. Greg had seemed so skittish around Audrey. Competent, yes. But comfortable? No.
“Did you have a good night?” Marlene asked as she slid a plate of cookies over to Charlotte.
Charlotte pushed them away and unwrapped her scarf. “I did have a good night,” she said, though she wasn’t sure that was entirely true.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The next morning, Greg had just finished the last sip of his coffee when Charlotte appeared in the doorway. He looked up, surprised to see her and, he realized, more pleased than he should be.
“Good morning!” she said, marching farther into the room and depositing Audrey into that car seat she seemed to bring with her everywhere.
“Good morning,” Greg replied. He folded the newspaper and leaned back in his chair, noticing that Charlotte was already dressed for the day in those tight-fitting jeans and a soft gray cowl-neck sweater. “I wasn’t sure you were awake yet.”
Charlotte glanced up and gave him a hard look. “I have a seven-month-old. It’s nine thirty. I’ve been up for four hours.”
Greg watched as she settled Audrey with a rubbery toy giraffe and then stood to prepare a bottle. She hummed to herself as she worked, seemingly comfortable with his presence. She seemed at home here in this kitchen, and Greg had a strange feeling that he was the guest in the room and not the other way around. Since Charlotte’s arrival, the entire feel of the house was different. It had sprung to life, and not just with garland and greenery. The house felt filled—with noise, with laughter, with the things that glued a family together.
A family. Greg frowned and ran his hand through his hair, looking back to the paper. What the hell was he thinking? Greg didn’t do family. He had no experience with that—at least not since his grandparents had died. He wouldn’t know what to do with a family.
