A California Christmas

by Brenda Novak

  “My dad...” He only got that far before his emotions sealed off his throat.

  “What about your dad?” he asked. “That bastard had better not have done anything else!”

  Dallas squeezed his eyes closed as he fought to be able to speak. “He just showed up, out of the blue,” he managed to say. “I...I should’ve done something, but I didn’t. I just yelled for him to leave.”

  “Done something?” Brian echoed. “Done what?”

  Dallas swallowed hard. “I don’t know. Something for my mom and Jenny—”

  “And gone to prison yourself?” Brian snapped. “That’s bullshit. Who would that help? Certainly not them. They’re gone, Dallas. You have to let them go.”

  “I...can’t,” he said simply. “I see Jenny...all the time. I miss her. I wish... I wish it had been me he’d shot.”

  “That’s crazy.”

  The last spate of psychologists Aiyana had taken him to had harped about vanquishing the guilt he carried, which was why he’d refused to go back. He couldn’t let himself off the hook that easily. He was afraid he’d be no better than Robert if he did. “She should...still be here.”

  Brian’s response was stern and immediate. “That’s true. But it’s not your fault she isn’t.”

  “It is,” he shouted into the phone. “If she hadn’t been trying to protect me, she might’ve escaped.” There. He’d said what he’d been holding back since it all happened. Those words had been torn from him, but the release was instantaneous. He blamed himself as much as his father for Jenny’s death—for good reason.

  “You don’t know that, Dallas. And even if it’s true, it wasn’t a willful act on your part. You were six years old! She did what she did because she loved you. Don’t waste her gift by making yourself miserable, especially on her account. Do you think she’d want that?”

  Of course she wouldn’t want that, but...

  “I’ve watched you over the years,” Brian went on. “You hold back, deny yourself the love other people want to give you. And for what? Is it helping Jenny? Or your mother? No. Quit punishing yourself for surviving when they didn’t. Leave it in the past, and live large and happy because that’s the way they’d want you to live. Do it for them, if not for yourself.”

  Dallas was hunched over, staring at the ground as he listened to Brian. He’d recovered enough from all the physical exertion that he was beginning to feel the cold, was starting to shiver. “It was all so unfair to her,” he muttered.

  “You’re telling me she died for you, right? Isn’t that what you’re saying? That it was a willing sacrifice on her part?”

  Fresh tears rolled down Dallas’s cheeks, and the lump in his throat grew so big that he could scarcely squeak out a one-word response. “Yes.”

  “Then don’t let it be for nothing. Let her go. Let the past go with her. And quit punishing yourself.”

  Dallas thought of Emery and how much he already missed her. He hadn’t chosen climbing over her, as he’d pretended. He’d turned her love away because he couldn’t allow himself to be that happy without feeling guilt.

  But as he sat back in the dirt and stared up at the clear blue sky on a beautiful Christmas Day, he knew Brian was right. Although it might be something he’d have to remind himself of over and over—and would probably always be a struggle for him—he had to say a final goodbye to Jenny.

  * * *

  It had been a long day. Emery and her mother and grandmother had exchanged only small gifts, but Emery was happy that her mother had managed to smile here and there, and her grandmother had been able to reminisce about Christmases past, something no one had expected. Earlier memories seemed to be easier for Adele to recall than more recent ones, so she talked about the Christmases she’d known as a child, which Emery was glad to learn about. Adele had grown up in such an interesting time. She’d been born on a small farm, helped to raise her younger siblings when her mother died after being bucked off a horse, and married young. Over the span of her life, she’d seen the invention of the telephone, the television, the personal computer and the internet. Emery doubted there’d ever be a generation who experienced such rapid and radical change in the way people dealt with each other and the world.

  Maybe this Christmas hadn’t been the best they’d ever experienced, but they were together. That was what mattered. They were together, they loved and supported each other, and Emery no longer had to worry about the lawsuit with Ethan and the station. She was grateful for all of that—which was why she refused to focus on what she didn’t have.

  She did, however, unblock Dallas and send him a quick message:

  Merry Christmas. I hope you had a great day. You are such an amazing person. You deserve the best.

  She waited to see if she’d get a response. She was breaking her own rule—already—which was pretty pathetic. But she told herself she’d allow this one more exchange. It was Christmas, after all. And hearing from him was what she wanted more than anything.

  She saw the three little dots that indicated he was either reading what she’d sent or writing back. But she never got a response.

  She couldn’t help feeling a little misty eyed when she put her phone on its charger but ordered herself to quit obsessing over something that wasn’t meant to be. What happened to being strong like her mother? And what about all those things she was so grateful for?

  She was being a baby, she told herself. But she couldn’t stop the tears that rolled onto her pillow.

  A ding indicated someone had sent her a text.

  She slid over to grab her phone and had to blink several times to be able to see through her tears.

  I was going to surprise you. But if you’re awake, maybe you’ll come pick me up from the airport.

  Had she gotten this message by mistake? She wiped her eyes and read it again. It was from Dallas, all right, but she couldn’t imagine she’d been the intended recipient.

  Was this meant for me?

  Yes. I don’t know anyone else in Boston. [[laughing emoji]]

  She jumped off the bed and blew her nose before she called him.

  “What are you doing in town?” she asked as soon as he answered.

  “Coming to tell you that I can’t live without you,” he replied.

  She felt her heart jump into her throat. “Are you serious?”

  “I missed my first flight, had to leave my luggage behind and flew clear across the country without it. I’d say I’m pretty serious.”

  “But...how could you be coming to surprise me? You don’t even know where I’m at!”

  “Our mothers are friends, remember? She texted me the address.”

  “So you’re really here.”

  “Yes. Merry Christmas.”

  For a moment, Emery was speechless, and her mind was going in a million different directions. “What about climbing?”

  “You don’t have a job, and now you won’t have to get one right away, so...”

  She began to grab some clothes out of her drawers. “So...what?”

  “I’m hoping you might agree to come with me.”

  “To Europe?”

  “Is that too much to ask? I guess we could do the long-distance thing, but life could be worse than spending a year or two near the Alps.”

  She felt her chest tighten with the threat of tears again—only this time they were happy tears. “Because of you, I’ll have the money to be able to do that. So I’ll go, and we can leave it open-ended, see how it works out for both of us.”

  “That sounds perfect to me, but I hope you won’t be sorry you decided to do something so spontaneous.”

  “This could be a once-in-a-lifetime chance.”

  “I’m glad you feel that way. Now hurry—I’m freezing my ass off,” he added with a laugh.

  “Boston definitely isn’t California.”

&nbs
p; “That’s no joke. But it’s okay. I’d follow you anywhere.”

  Emery felt as though she had to be dreaming. Who would’ve thought that when Ethan did what he did her life would change for the better? She’d cared about Ethan when she was with him, and she’d loved her job. But nothing could compare to what she felt for Dallas. Even the idea of leaving herself open to something new professionally suddenly sounded exciting.

  She told him she had to go so that she could finish getting ready and find the keys to her mother’s car, but just before she disconnected she said, “What made you change your mind?”

  He hesitated for a second, but then he said, “I decided that I’ve been carrying around enough baggage all my life. I won’t let it keep me from you.”

  Epilogue

  Saturday, May 15

  Sweat rolled down Dallas’s bare back as he basked in the sun while waiting at the top of a fairly easy 5a climb in Belgium for Emery to join him. Rochers de Freyr was a popular crag offering a dozen or so sectors of varied, high-quality limestone, and it was one of his favorite places on Earth. Here, he could ascend with Emery, who’d become interested in the sport and was still learning and improving, or tackle one of its harder climbs on his own. He’d recently been added to the short list of climbers who’d topped Le Clou, an 8c climb in the Al’Legne sector, and now, when he wasn’t climbing with Emery, he was focusing on topping Slip a Clou or Big Bang. He planned to compete in the IFSC World Cup in the fall and hoped to place. He was starting the season off strong, felt he had a chance.

  Emery’s foot appeared first. She was wearing the latest climbing shoe his sponsor had developed. Then her head popped up and she pulled herself over the edge. “That was so hard,” she said, dropping down next to him.

  He chuckled at her dramatic exclamation. “You didn’t think you could do it, but you did. Way to go.” He lifted his hand for a high five, and she mustered the energy to return it.

  “How’d you get me into this sport?” she complained as she gasped for breath. “After today I’m thinking it was a mistake to tell Brian we were going to Europe instead of taking over the gym.”

  He smiled because he knew she was joking. “I talked to him last night.”

  “You did?”

  “Yep. He’s waiting a couple of years before he retires, to see what happens with me. And if I’m not done climbing when he wants to sell? I hope I’ve made enough of a name in this sport that we can open our own gym.” Doing a push-up over her body, he kissed her when he was close enough to be able to touch her lips. “It’s a risk, but I’m up for it. Because even if it doesn’t work, and we’re dirt-poor for the rest of our lives, I’ll be happy as long as I have you.”

  She grinned as she sat up, leaned back on her hands and gazed out at the view. “Look at this. It’s unreal, too gorgeous for words. Hard to believe that only a few months ago I was someone who spent almost all of her time working, or trying to build her career by chasing stories even when she wasn’t working. Ethan did me a huge favor when he posted that video online.”

  He slid over so he could hold her hand as they looked out together. He enjoyed nothing more than feeling connected to her, which was partly why he was glad she’d started climbing: they were literally tied together quite often. “If he hadn’t posted that video, you would never have come to Silver Springs, and we would very likely never have met again.”

  She slanted him a glance. “So you don’t regret flying to Boston on Christmas?”

  He tried to imagine his life without her and couldn’t. That he’d almost let his father ruin the happiness he had now was terrifying. Sometimes, late at night, he thought about that pivotal moment after he’d seen his father for the first time in almost twenty-five years. He still felt guilt whenever he thought of Jenny, but then he’d remember Brian’s words: Don’t let her sacrifice be for nothing.

  He was determined it wouldn’t be. That was why he’d spent a fortune on another plane ticket and boarded a Boeing 747 to Boston last Christmas without so much as a carry-on. And it was the best move he’d ever made.

  Letting go of Emery’s hand, he put his arm around her and pulled her close. She was such a part of him now. “How could I ever regret loving you?”

  * * *

  Don’t miss Brenda Novak’s next book about family and the ties that bind and challenge us.

  The Bookstore on the Beach

  Coming soon from MIRA.

  Keep reading for a sneak peek!

  The Bookstore on the Beach

  by Brenda Novak

  The bell went off over the door while Autumn was on the phone. The bookstore had been fairly busy today, but for every person who made a purchase she had a handful of browsers, so she didn’t even try to see who it was.

  It wasn’t until she heard a man clear his throat that she realized the person who’d come in had walked straight to the counter. She signed off on her call, hung up and turned to find...Quinn.

  “Hey,” he said, treating her to that Hollywood smile of his.

  She caught her breath. What was he doing here? “Hello.”

  He turned in a circle, making a point of taking in everything he saw. “It’s been a while since I’ve been in. The place looks great.”

  “It should. My mother and aunt pour everything they have into this store. My mother loves it almost as much as she loves me.”

  He faced her again. “I doubt that. Your mother thinks you hung the moon. Have you been spending a lot of time here since you’ve been home?”

  “Quite a bit,” she admitted. “I help out most afternoons, once I’ve spent some time with my kids and have finished gardening.”

  He held a sack in one hand but leaned casually on the counter with the opposite elbow. “I didn’t realize you were a gardener.”

  “I didn’t plant it. My mother put it in. I just tend it. It gives me something to do while I’m here besides helping out at the store, and I like feeling the earth between my fingers, watching things grow and eating what I produce.”

  “You make gardening sound fun,” he said wryly. “I wouldn’t have believed anyone could do that—other than the eating part, of course.”

  She laughed. “You don’t like getting your hands dirty?”

  “I don’t mind that. I’ve just never had the burning desire to plant anything, I guess. What types of things are you growing?”

  She was tempted to cut straight to the part where she asked him if he needed help finding a book, to save him the effort of making small talk. But if he was going to be polite, so was she. “Watermelon. Sweet potatoes. Zucchini. Tomatoes.”

  “I have to admit there’s nothing better than a homegrown tomato. If I was tempted to grow anything, it would be that.”

  “I make my own spaghetti sauce every fall, so we raise a lot of them.”

  Now that he’d spent a reasonable amount of time chitchatting with her—a nod to the fact that they’d gone to school together—she assumed he’d tell her it was good to see her again and ask where he could find the cookbook he’d come to purchase. Or maybe he was looking for a book on how to better manage a restaurant or survive a divorce. She was already wondering if they’d have what he wanted when he said, “I sent you a friend request on Facebook, but I’m not on there very much, and now I’m guessing that you’re not, either.”

  She was on every night, hoping for some word from her husband—or from someone who could tell her what’d happened to Nick. Each time she logged on, the little symbol that signified she had a friend request waiting drew her eye again and again. But she didn’t own up to having seen it. “Not since I’ve been here,” she lied.

  “Well, you mentioned how much you like our carrot cake, so I brought you a slice.” He lifted the sack he’d been holding and put it on the counter. “I hope you enjoy it.”

  Shocked, she glanced at the logo of the restaura
nt before meeting his gaze. “Thank you. That’s...really nice.”

  “No problem,” he said and, with a parting wink, started to leave.

  He didn’t need a book? He’d come just to deliver this cake—to her?

  Fortunately, there wasn’t anyone else in the store at the moment. That was the only reason she allowed herself to call out to him. “Quinn?”

  He had his hand on the door when he turned.

  “I’m really sorry about your mother’s cancer diagnosis.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate that.”

  “And...”

  He waited patiently as she drew a bolstering breath.

  “And I’m also sorry for how I behaved when we were in high school.”

  The words tumbled out so fast she wouldn’t have been surprised if he needed her to repeat them. Fortunately, he seemed to have heard and understood. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” he said magnanimously.

  “I did.”

  “When?”

  Clasping her hands tightly in front of her, she was tempted to say “Never mind,” in case he had really forgotten. But she was the one who’d brought it up; she was going to have the courage to see it through. “You know...when I did what I did in the tree house that day.”

  “What you did? I’m pretty sure we both participated.”

  “But I was so forward even though you tried to tell me you weren’t interested.”

  The glimmer in his eyes suggested he was tempted to laugh. Once she caught that, she suspected he’d known what she was referring to all along. “I don’t remember those being the words I used.”

  “Whatever you said, you were right. I was out of line. I apologize.”

  His lips curved into a sexy grin. “Is that why you won’t accept my friend request?”

  Damn it. He’d guessed she’d seen it, and he was right, so she figured there was no use continuing to lie. “Partially.”

  “I promise you—that’s the last thing you need to worry about,” he said and the door swung shut as he walked out.