“I don’t know. It’s Christmas, so...”
“And isn’t Christmas time the time we’re supposed to take risks? When miracles happen? Have a leap of faith and all that?” Emma asked. Her eyebrow arched as she eyed her father waiting for his response.
“I think someone’s been watching too many Christmas movies,” Derek grinned playfully.
“You’ve sat with me through almost all of them. Don’t think for a second you’re immune.”
Derek worked up the courage to text Jennifer just after lunch. His sandwich sat sadly at the center of his plate, the gooey cheese oozing out, as he scribed several different versions of the message. He didn’t want to seem too eager — too “middle-aged guy looking for love, or something kind of like love, or whatever.”
DEREK: Hey! Curious if you had time for a walk today. It’s beautiful out there.
DEREK: And I wouldn’t mind talking more about the plans. I’m a bit of a workaholic (and plenty excited about what we’ve cooked up).
DEREK: But I know it’s the holidays. Pretty crazy time.
DEREK: Anyway, I’ll be around later if you are.
With every message he sent, he felt increasingly sillier. But yes, according to every romantic Christmas movie he had watched with Emma, you had to be kind-of, sort-of, a lot-a-bit silly to fall in love.
To his surprise, Jennifer texted back almost immediately.
JENNIFER: I’m free after five-thirty! Do you like the beach in the winter?
DEREK STRODE DOWN THE Joseph Sylvia State Beach just after five-twenty. It was almost completely dark, and it felt strange to stare out toward the horizon line and think about that great black expanse, all that water between here and Europe. He thought again of Jennifer’s twin, about the drowning, and he shuddered at the thought. He had stepped into a story with so much history that he would never fully grasp.
But he supposed that’s what living was. Living meant building stories.
And now, maybe, he and Jennifer could write one of their own.
Maybe.
Jennifer appeared far down the beach, visible despite the dark haze of everything. Her long red hair whipped through the wind, and her smile was electric yet personal. Derek had a hunch that she’d reserved this particular smile just for him.
When he reached her, there was a moment when he wasn’t sure what to do. He stood awkwardly, yearning to wrap his arms around her, hug her tightly against him in the midst of the chill. She lifted a thermos into the air and said, “I cooked up some hot apple cider and whiskey, with plenty of spice and everything nice. Do you want a cup?”
“That sounds perfect,” he replied, flashing her a smile.
“It’ll warm us up at least,” Jennifer said. “There’s nothing I like more than being out in the cold with a hot drink.”
The hot apple cider and whiskey was a Godsend. Derek sipped it and glanced toward Jennifer, suddenly conscious that everything he wanted to say to her was much too serious. Why couldn’t he be light and funny and easy, the way he’d been the other night? He’d built up too much pressure.
“I’m sorry to be so quiet,” Jennifer said first, as though she could read his mind. “Mom’s been so repressed and I don’t blame her. She’s frustrated about the stroke, her mobility, about all she’s lost, about the fact that she can’t really work at the bakery right now. But lately, Dad’s sat with her through the day and spoken with her. I heard them as I left earlier this afternoon. He told her a story I didn’t remember about my twin sister, Michelle. Apparently, one afternoon, we’d all gone to the grocery store together. Michelle and I were maybe four or five years old. Somehow, my parents got split up, and both of them thought the other had Michelle. When they came together, I was the only one around. Of course, I was, I guess. I was always the boring, responsible one.”
Derek laughed appreciatively. His heart felt so full as she revealed more of herself to him.
“Anyway, we all raced out of the grocery store, probably screaming for Michelle. Somehow, she’d followed a sailor out to the docks. They found her out there ordering him around—telling him where to take her. Apparently, she’d recently seen a picture of France and was fascinated with the concept. My parents didn’t know what to do with her. Her ideas were way too big for her four-year-old brain.”
The wind ripped through them as they continued to sip their whiskey. Derek willed himself to say the right thing — the kind of thing a woman like Jennifer, who ached with missing her twin forever, wanted to hear.
“It’s nice to hear them talk about her in that way, though,” Jennifer breathed. “It’s like we can keep her alive through our stories, you know? Well, I mean. Of course, you know. You’ve lost someone so dear to you, so recently.”
Derek’s throat tightened. “Emma and I exchange stories as often as we can.”
“It’s all we can do,” Jennifer agreed with him. “That, and keep going and keep loving. I feel like, if I do ever see Michelle again in some kind of heaven, she’ll look at me and have a lot of things to say if I don’t take risks and put myself out there and really exist, you know?”
Derek laughed at that. It felt altogether too real. “My wife used to tell me that I didn’t take enough risks. She said the only person getting in my own way was myself.”
“But now you’re here. You’re building a new life,” Jennifer said. Slowly, she drew a strand of hair behind her ear. It was the most delicate, most beautiful motion. Her eyes connected with his, and he had the wildest desire to press forward and kiss her, right there on that frigid beach.
When they finished their thermos of whiskey, Derek heard himself ask Jennifer if she wanted to have some hot cocoa back at his place. She happily agreed.
Back home, Emma was bright-eyed and eager to chat. She hugged Jennifer tightly and said, “I love the plans you helped Dad with. It’s going to be a wonderful year of changes, but I can’t wait to see it all come together.”
“Us too,” Jennifer said with a wide grin.
As Derek heated the milk, he reveled in the fact that she had just used the term “us.” They were an “us.” A team.
Jennifer and Emma fell into easy conversation. Derek had flashbacks to the conversations he’d heard between Emma and his wife over the years; there was certainly an ease that Emma had with Jennifer, one that showed the immense trust and admiration she had for her. When Jennifer got up to use the bathroom, Emma winked at her father, and Derek actually felt himself blush — giving himself away, hard.
When Jennifer returned, she read a message on her phone and grimaced. “Shoot,” she said, biting on her lower lip.
“What’s up?” Emma asked.
“Connie has another bad cold. She’s really taken a turn, apparently. I don’t think she’ll be able to come in tomorrow. And Christmas Eve is obviously one of the busiest days of the year.”
Emma tilted her head. “Well, I’m not doing anything.”
Jennifer arched an eyebrow. “You’re not volunteering to help me at the bakery on Christmas Eve, are you?”
“I think that’s exactly what I’m doing,” Emma beamed as she blinked back at Jen.
Jennifer’s eyes widened. “You would be doing me the biggest favor of my entire life.”
“Entire life? That’s a bit dramatic, don’t you think?” Emma said.
“Seriously. Are you sure? I mean, I’d need you there early. Like, four-thirty or five.”
Emma shrugged. “I don’t mind a bit of hard labor. You don’t even need to pay me, except in pastries, of course.”
“Don’t be silly!” Jennifer said, swatting the air like there was a fly. She seemed both flabbergasted and shocked. She then glanced toward Derek as though she needed some kind of permission. “You don’t mind if I steal your daughter on Christmas Eve, do you?”
Derek shook his head. “Of course not. We don’t have much in the way of Christmas plans, anyway. Just a bunch of eating and watching movies for the two of us. Oh and maybe a crossword or two on
my end. That’s about it.”
Jennifer’s eyes sparkled suddenly. “Well, that won’t do, either, will it?”
“What do you mean?” Derek asked.
Jennifer fluffed her red hair as her grin widened even more. “We have a huge Christmas celebration. Every single year, all my best friends since age four come over with their families. There’s food and music and funny stories and little fights, everything and anything to keep it interesting.” Jennifer explained as she took a step closer. “Have you ever watched the Christmas movie, ‘Christmas with the Kranks?’ Well, our Christmas Eve celebration is similar to that—chaotic but with a house full of love. We’d love to have you.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
It was a rare thing for Jennifer to dream of Michelle.
She’d often thought it was because it was too emotional to see her, even in a dream landscape — that it reminded her of all the years they’d lost.
But in the foggy hours, before Jennifer awoke to go to the bakery on Christmas Eve, Michelle appeared in her dream. She was a version of herself Jennifer had never seen before — forty-one years old, with shorter hair than Jennifer (cut into an edgy style), incredibly cool, bohemian clothing, and this funny smile that told Jennifer that she knew exactly what she was up to.
“I see someone’s decided to fall in love all over again?” Michelle teased her as they sat out on the Joseph Sylvia State beach, in the splendor of a mid-summer sun.
“Come on, Michelle. Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Jennifer returned. “You know what it’s like. These things are delicate at the beginning.”
“I do know what it’s like. I’m the one who’s been married five times,” Michelle told her. “One after another. That’s what I always say.”
In the dream, Nick appeared. He carried a toddler in his arms, as three other children, all between the ages of twelve and five, padded along beside him. Jennifer knew instinctively that these children were Michelle’s children. These were the nieces and nephews she’d never had. Her heart ached for them how she’d wanted to love them!
“I hope you won’t mess it up,” Michelle teased her, forcing her eyes back toward her identical ones. “Because I can tell, this guy thinks you’re different. He can see a future with you.”
Jennifer chose to laugh rather than cry. “I can’t believe there’s still more future to be had at the age of forty-one.”
Michelle giggled. “Don’t be silly. You’ve hardly even gotten started.” She turned to look out toward the ocean, the very one that had taken her life all those years ago. “Will you tell my sisters how much I love them? I think of them endlessly. Amelia and all that hard work she puts in. Olivia and her daughter, Chelsea. Mila and her sorrows and her twins. And, of course, Camilla, who destroys herself at the hospital every day helping countless people. Tell them not to be afraid of the next chapters in their lives. Tell them that I’ll be there for them in any way I can.”
That moment, Jennifer’s alarm blared. Her eyes burst open as she was ripped from the dream. Into the darkness, she breathed, “No! Take me back!” But already, it was too late.
After she calmed her racing heart Jennifer showered and dressed quickly. By the time she reached the bakery, she’d managed to kick off some of the inner anxiety surrounding the dream but only some of it. Emma’s bright smile, there outside the door of the bakery, was enough of a reminder of the real world. It forced Jennifer to speak. It forced her to rejoin the world of the living.
“Good morning, and Merry Christmas Eve!” Jennifer cried. “Let’s get inside and brew up some coffee, shall we?”
Emma was a hard little worker. Over the first several hours, they sliced, baked and glazed pastries and pies as Christmas songs buzzed over the speakers and sunlight slowly drew itself over the thick snow outside. Emma was bubbly and excitable, taste-testing one too many cookies and laughing about it. Just before the guests began to stream in for the morning, she had Jennifer snap several photos of her surrounded by cakes and pies and cookies. Jennifer watched as Emma put the photo up on her social media accounts, as she said, “I like to keep my friends in the know about what’s going on. If you’re worried about me, well, don’t be because I’m on the most beautiful island surrounded by three pumpkin pies, two apple pies, and a carrot cake.”
Jennifer chuckled. “They’ll only be jealous of that, I think.”
“Agreed.”
They were off to the races the moment the door opened. Guests streamed in, sugar-obsessed and Christmas-obsessed and grateful for a kind word and a bright holiday greeting. Jennifer complimented everyone’s sweaters, while Emma made latte after latte. The hours ripped past, nearly destroying them, even as they kept their smiles up and their laughs vibrant. “These people need their Christmas treats, darn it!” Emma cried sarcastically as still more people streamed in through the door. “We have to give the people what they want!”
Just after one, Derek appeared in the bakery. He looked fresh-faced and handsome as ever, and Jennifer nearly swooned with the idea that this gorgeous man actually wanted to spend time with her, and maybe, just maybe, get to know her in a way that set them up for “forever.” Whatever forever meant.
She did have the strangest feeling that she wanted to press across the glass counter and kiss him directly on the lips, the way she might have done with Joel a few years ago. Easy, tiger, she told herself. Get ahold of yourself.
“How’s it going here?” Derek asked.
Jennifer and Emma exchanged exhausted glances and burst into laughter.
“You can’t imagine how hard it’s been,” Emma said. “I’ve worked in restaurants in Manhattan, and this is ten times more chaotic. I don’t know how you do this all the time, Jen.”
“Only the past few weeks,” Jennifer corrected. “It’s been my mother’s career for decades. She’s such a stronger woman.”
Again, Jennifer turned her eyes toward Derek, who seemed almost sheepish. This made her laugh inwardly. This man — with such wealth, handsome, and from Manhattan — he was actually nervous to be around her. She imagined telling herself this years ago when she’d just been a know-nothing teenager. She would say to herself: one day, you will meet a man who will surprise you in literally every way. You won’t know what to do; you’ll just lean into it.
“Can I grab you a coffee?” Jennifer asked softly.
Derek nodded. “Maybe even one of your specialty lattes if it isn’t too much trouble.”
“Dad! Are you sick or something? He basically never has anything but a black coffee,” Emma teased. “I guess the world really is upside down these days.”
But Jennifer still remembered that very first time they’d met one another – when he’d ordered a caramel latte and captured her attention with that handsome smile.
“Peppermint is one of the best ones,” Jennifer said. “Does that work?”
“Absolutely. Perfect.”
They held one another’s gaze for a long moment, again, like school children who didn’t know what to say. Finally, Jennifer forced herself around to begin to brew the coffee. There was a jangle of a bell after that, proof of more customers. To her surprise, however, Emma didn’t blurt out her familiar greeting.
Jennifer watched as Emma’s face became strained.
As the coffee beans ground up, Jennifer turned back around to view quite a strange scene.
Derek stood with his arms crossed angrily across his chest. He stared at a handsome twenty-something guy, all dressed in a brilliantly expensive pea coat, with a Gucci scarf wrapped around his neck. This young man didn’t bother acknowledging Derek at all. Instead, his eyes burned toward Emma in a way that seemed to express pain and torment and unadulterated love.
Emma remained frozen on her side of the glass counter. Her arms remained at her sides, and her eyes were glassy, as though she was on the verge of tears. Above them, the Christmas song changed to “Jingle Bell Rock,” which seemed much too cheesy for this strange interaction. It was almost laughable.
Jennifer put two and two together pretty quickly.
This was obviously the ex-fiancé.
“Will,” Emma breathed. “What are you doing here?”
Will ruffled his hair foolishly. Regardless of his status or his profession or his wealth, he was every bit just a confused kid who wasn’t sure what he wanted or what came next.
“Emma. Can I talk to you for a moment?” He paused as “Jingle Bell, jingle bell, jingle bell rock,” continued on the speaker. “It’s really important.”
Emma shook her head, delicately. “How did you find me?”
Will lifted his phone. “I knew you were on the Vineyard, but I didn’t know where to find you. Not until you posted this.”
Emma’s laugh was playful, almost giddy, but also accusatory. “You stalked me.”
Will’s smile was crooked. Jennifer could see exactly why Emma had fallen head-over-heels for him. He reminded her of Joel, in some respects, a man she couldn’t have helped but fallen for, over and over again, in every single dimension.
“Okay. But it can’t be long,” Emma said. “We’ll get busy again, and I don’t want to leave Jen in a bind.”
Jennifer watched as Emma grabbed her coat and followed Will out into the snowy afternoon. The moment the door clipped closed, Derek grunted with disdain.
“I don’t know about this,” he said, speaking mostly to nobody. “The kid doesn’t know what he wants. He’s flailing around trying to make things work.”
Jennifer brewed the rest of the peppermint latte and placed it on the counter. Derek gripped it angrily and gestured out toward Will and Emma again, who seemed to have fallen deep into an emotionally naked conversation—the kind that involved big life questions and what the heck to do next when you’ve made so many mistakes.
“I just can’t trust him,” Derek muttered between sips of his latte. “He hurt her so much. And if he’s back to try to win her over...”
Jennifer stepped around the counter. She stood before Derek, her eyes focused on his, and said, “Why should any of us trust ourselves, anyway? Destiny has a way of working out what is meant to be.”
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