When the Snow Falls

by Fern Michaels

  “No, tomorrow afternoon is fine.”

  The choir begins to sing “O Tannenbaum.” Jack and I turn our attention to the boys. They’re very good. I’m glad I came. I’m enjoying watching and listening to the choir and not thinking about myself and Mark for a change.

  Halfway through the performance, Christopher rolls his chair to the front and center of the choir. Except for a few boys who sing backup, Christopher is the only one singing as he belts out the tune to “Little Drummer Boy.” His voice is beautiful. I look at Jack, who is absolutely beaming.

  Christopher’s song wraps up the performance and the boys bow to a round of cheers and applause. Jack and I make our way over to Christopher.

  “That was fantastic!” Jack high-fives his son and then gives him a quick hug. Chauncey leaps out of Jack’s embrace and onto Christopher’s lap as he offers his own congratulations in the form of a few licks across his face.

  “Christopher, you have a beautiful voice. ‘Little Drummer Boy’ is my favorite Christmas carol.”

  “Thank you, Bianca. It’s my favorite too. And thank you for coming to see me. I’m sorry I didn’t get to say good-bye to you yesterday.”

  “That’s all right. I hope you’re feeling better. Your father mentioned you were getting over the flu.”

  Christopher nods his head. “Yeah. I think I’m all cured now. I’m just glad I got sick now and not for Christmas. That would’ve been the pits!”

  I laugh. “It definitely would have!”

  “Bianca, will you be coming with us for hot chocolate and dessert?”

  “Oh. I—”

  “I was going to invite you, Bianca. Please join us.” Jack looks at me expectantly.

  “All right. Thank you.”

  We head over to a nearby café. Jack pushes his son’s chair even though Christopher tells him he can do it himself.

  “Pretend you’re in a limo and someone else is doing the driving. This is your night, big guy.”

  Christopher shakes his head, but he’s grinning, loving the attention his father is showering on him.

  I offer to walk Chauncey on his leash, but after a few feet the plastic bag wrapped around his foot is distracting him so much that he’s begun to tear at it with his teeth. I scoop him up in my arms before he can completely tear the bag off.

  When we’re seated in the café and our orders of hot chocolate and desserts have arrived, Christopher begins asking me questions about what it’s like to be a vet tech. I regale him with unusual stories from the vet clinic and make a few jokes. I love seeing him smile. His sandy blond hair is the same shade as Jack’s, and he has the same kind eyes. At one point while Christopher is talking to me, I notice out of the corner of my eye that Jack is staring at me. I can feel my cheeks flush.

  After I’m done discussing the world of a vet tech, Christopher says, “Cool! I think I want to be a vet tech when I grow up, Dad.”

  Jack and I laugh.

  An hour later, Jack announces it’s almost time for Christopher to get to bed.

  “I thought this was my night! I should get to stay up as late as I want.” Christopher pouts.

  “When you’re eighteen, you can do that. But until then, you still have a bedtime.”

  On the way back to the hotel, Jack lets Christopher wheel himself. Christopher is quite strong for his age and is wheeling at a good pace ahead of us. When we reach a street that is a bit steep, my face fills with worry as I watch Christopher wheeling downhill at a rapid pace. Jack notices my anxiety.

  “He’ll be fine. He’s a pro at steering now.”

  I nod my head, hoping he’s right.

  “Jack, may I ask how—”

  “Car accident. The same one that took his mother’s life.”

  I stop walking for a moment, taken aback by the news that Jack also lost someone he loved in a car crash. When Jack looks at me questioningly, I merely mutter, “A cramp in my leg.”

  “Do you need to sit down? There’s a bench just a couple of feet away, if you can hop to it. Of course I can carry you, if you’d like.” Jack is smirking.

  I force myself to laugh and say, “That’s okay.”

  Bending over, I pretend to massage my leg for a moment before resuming walking.

  “How long ago was the accident?”

  “Seven years ago. Christopher was only three. I was at work when it happened. Jennifer was driving. She hit a patch of ice and her car swerved out of control and hit a tree. She died later at the hospital. It was a close call for Christopher, but he pulled through.”

  I try to remember when Jack told me he moved here. “Was this here in Austria?”

  “No, in Vermont. A few months after the accident, I decided to move here.”

  He doesn’t have to explain to me why he decided to move here. Although he had told me the other day he always wanted to live in Austria, I’m sure the timing of his move had to do with wanting to escape the memories he’d had with his wife back home.

  As if reading my thoughts, Jack says, “I guess I needed a fresh start.”

  “I can understand that.”

  We continue to walk the rest of the way to the hotel in silence. Mark’s words come back to me: “He’s been through a lot.”

  I think about telling Jack that I know exactly what he’s been through and is feeling, but the words remain choked in my throat. It’s crazy, but I feel that once I share the pain of my loss with someone other than my shrink, it’ll somehow be less my own. And I’m not sure I’m ready yet to give that up.

  Chapter 12

  The next evening, I’m sitting across from Jack at a restaurant in Old Town. Before we parted ways last night, Jack told me he wanted to treat me to dinner to thank me for finding Chauncey and treating his foot. I wanted to tell him that wasn’t necessary, but instead I accepted. I don’t know why I did, but after I accepted, I knew I couldn’t take it back. Now, I’m fidgeting in my seat, nervous at what Jack’s expectations for tonight might be and feeling guilty that I’m on what feels like a date even though I keep telling myself it isn’t.

  Thankfully, Jack is doing most of the talking. I’m surprised at how long he can keep small talk going when it suddenly occurs to me that he’s as nervous as I am, but in his case he tries to cover it up by chattering away.

  Deciding to take a chance, I interrupt Jack in midsentence, and before I can change my mind, I blurt out, “You’re nervous, aren’t you?”

  Jack pauses, looking surprised, then mildly embarrassed. I give him a tender smile, letting him know it’s okay. He laughs softly. “It’s that obvious, huh?”

  “Only because I’m nervous, too, although I’m the opposite. I’m very quiet when I’m feeling anxious. So I’m glad you’ve been doing all the gabbing because the silence between us would’ve been absolutely unbearable!” I laugh.

  “Well, thank God that’s over. I give you credit for just throwing it out there.” Jack takes a sip of his wine. “Ah! I don’t know what’s gotten into me. I’m usually not the nervous type.”

  “No apologies necessary. It’s nice to see you’re human.” I raise my wineglass and make a toast. “To being human—and letting it all hang out!”

  Jack taps my glass with his. “Yes. To letting it all hang out.” His eyes meet mine and we laugh.

  “You don’t need to feel nervous with me, Jack. I’m probably the most unpretentious person you’ll ever meet.”

  “I can tell that, Bianca. Likewise, you don’t need to feel anxious around me. But now it’s my turn to be bold and ask why you’re feeling nervous.”

  “It’s been awhile since I’ve been on anything remotely resembling a date—not that this is a date, but you know what I mean.”

  I can’t believe I’ve just said that. Jack looks disappointed. Seeing his disappointment makes me regret my choice of words.

  “I’m sorry, Jack. I just don’t want to presume anything.”

  “No worries. I understand. Besides, I did tell you I wanted to treat you to repay you
for taking care of Chauncey’s foot. Lord knows you saved me a hefty vet’s bill.” Jack smiles, and I feel relaxed in his presence once again.

  “So, it’s my turn to ask why you’re nervous.”

  “Oh, look. The waiter is approaching our table, just in time to save me.” Jack drums his fingers on the table and looks up in the air, whistling softly.

  I shake my head at him but decide to let him off the hook.

  But after the waiter takes our order, Jack returns to the subject and says, “I’m nervous because I’ve enjoyed your company the few times I’ve been with you, and I guess I want to make a good impression. There. I’ve let it all hang out.”

  “Impressive.” I take a sip of my wine, and part of me is startled at how coy my tone sounds. I haven’t heard myself use that flirting tone since . . . since Mark.

  I decide to steer the conversation toward safer ground and ask Jack questions about his work. He takes my lead and in turn asks me questions about my job, as well as my family.

  Before I know it, the end of the night has come and Jack is walking me back to the hotel.

  “I take it your house isn’t too far from here since I found Chauncey in the hiking trails near the hotel.”

  “Yes. I live only ten minutes away, but I had to wait for Christopher to finish getting ready. That’s why it took us a bit longer to get to the hotel after you’d found Chauncey. I rent the house, so it’s not quite mine.”

  “Really? I would’ve thought since you’ve been here for several years now you would have purchased it.”

  “I know. I guess after Jennifer died, it’s been hard for me to make any permanent decisions.”

  “You came to Austria, though.”

  “I had no choice. I was a wreck after she passed away. If I wanted to pull myself together so that I could be there fully for Christopher, I had to go somewhere fresh. I guess I haven’t wanted to buy a house here just in case we decide to move back to the States.”

  “But I thought you had always seen yourself living in Austria. When you told me that, it sounded like it would be a permanent move.”

  “I know, but I keep wondering if it might be better for Christopher to live in Vermont. My parents are still there, as well as Jennifer’s family. I feel guilty sometimes that I pulled Christopher out of their lives, although they understood.”

  “Have you been back to visit?”

  “Twice. And Jennifer’s parents have come to visit a few times. They’re good people. I made it clear to them that they would always be in our lives.”

  “I can see how it would get lonely here, just you and Christopher, without your relatives.”

  “You forgot Chauncey.”

  “Ah! How could I forget Chauncey? How long have you had him?”

  “I adopted him when Christopher and I came to Austria. I thought it would be a good way to occupy him. After Jennifer died, he was constantly asking where Mommy was. I had hoped since he was so young—three at the time—that he would . . .”

  “Forget?” I place my hand gently on Jack’s arm. His eyes fill with tears.

  “Isn’t that horrible? Hoping my son would forget his mother? Of course, I didn’t want him to forget her, but I also couldn’t bear the thought of how much he was suffering without her. I think that was part of what made dealing with Jennifer’s death so hard. I just couldn’t accept that my son would no longer have his mother.”

  “Don’t be so hard on yourself, Jack. From what I’ve seen of Christopher, he’s a fine boy. He seems happy. I’m not saying he doesn’t miss his mother or having one, but he also seems like a very strong boy. You’ve done a wonderful job with him.”

  Jack puts his hand on mine and gives it a light squeeze. “Thank you.” He sighs. “As a parent, you’re always wondering whether you’re doing right by your child. You’re always second-guessing your choices. I try to follow my gut, but I know I can’t get it right all the time.”

  “Well, you seem to have gotten most of it right. So stop worrying.”

  Jack stops, and before I can react, he’s kissing me. I’m stunned. I give in to his kiss, but then I realize what I’m doing and step back.

  “I’m sorry, Bianca. I don’t know what came over me.”

  “It’s just . . .” I place my hands on my temples, unable to give him an explanation. Feeling overwhelmed, I merely say, “It’s late. I’ll be all right walking the rest of the way back by myself. Thank you for dinner, Jack.”

  I hurry away, but Jack runs after me.

  “Bianca! Wait. I can still walk you back.”

  I wait for him to catch up, knowing it’s no use trying to outrun him.

  “You really don’t need to escort me. I’ll be fine.”

  “I know, but I want to.”

  We continue walking in silence. Once we reach the hotel, Jack says, “Look, Bianca, I lied back there when I said I don’t know what came over me. We toasted to letting it all hang out, so I’m going to risk making you run again, but I don’t care. I want to be nothing but honest with you. I like you, Bianca. A lot. I kissed you because I wanted to. And taking you out tonight wasn’t just about repaying you for treating Chauncey. I just used that as an excuse. I wanted to get to know you better and spend some time alone with you.”

  “So you’re not going to repay me for taking care of your dog?”

  Jack looks at me, surprised. My comment has left him speechless.

  Instead of waiting for him to come up with a response, I merely say, “Good night, Jack,” and walk away. I can feel his eyes on me as I let myself into the hotel.

  When I reach my room, my pulse is absolutely racing. I don’t know what to think about tonight. Although Jack caught me off guard with that kiss, I didn’t push him away immediately. I even gave in and kissed him back for a moment. And his confession that he likes me made me feel . . . dare I say it? Happy. Then why was I so cruel, taunting him about not repaying me for taking care of Chauncey’s foot? He must think I’m sadistic to make a comment like that after he revealed his feelings for me.

  Shaking my head, I fling my handbag across the room. I’m disgusted by how I treated Jack. I’m disgusted that I’m having feelings for another man, and here in Innsbruck of all places. I didn’t come here to fall in love. Austria was my special place with Mark. This was where Mark proposed to me. This was where I lost him. Throwing myself onto my bed, I sob uncontrollably.

  Chapter 13

  Christmas Eve has arrived. It’s been a couple of days since my date with Jack. He called me the next day to see how I was. The conversation felt strained, but we were polite with each other. I couldn’t help feeling that he was trying to keep me at a distance now. That should’ve made me feel relieved, but it only saddened me.

  I’m brushing my hair, getting ready to go out for breakfast, when I hear a soft knock at my door, followed by “Room service.”

  Frowning, I answer the door.

  “Room service, mademoiselle.” The bellhop has a French accent.

  “I’m sorry. There must be a mistake. I didn’t order room service.”

  “Room twelve oh five. You are Mademoiselle Simone, correct?”

  “Yes, but I didn’t place an order for room service.”

  “It says here it’s complimentary—a gift from the hotel for your birthday.”

  “How do they know it’s my birthday?”

  The bellhop shrugs his shoulders. “Is it on some form they ask guests to fill out, perhaps?”

  I remember that when I reserved the room online, I did have to fill in my birth date.

  “Please, hold on.” I walk over to my purse and take out a few euros to tip him. He’s pacing back and forth, no doubt anxious to return to work. He doesn’t even offer to push the food cart into my room.

  “Merci. You can leave the cart outside your door when you are finished.” With a nod of his head, he hurries away.

  “Merci.” I push the cart into my room. There is a small vase with white roses on the cart. An envelope w
ith my name on it lies beside the utensils. I open it.

  Dear Bianca,

  Needless to say, you left me quite speechless the other night when you asked me if I wasn’t going to repay you for so kindly treating Chauncey. I suppose I deserved that, after taking such liberties by kissing you. Please accept my sincerest apologies. I promise I won’t bring up that awkward episode anymore!

  A little Christmas ghost told me that today is your birthday, which didn’t surprise me. A person as special as you had to have been born on a special day like Christmas Eve. I’d like to repay you for taking such good care of Chauncey by taking you to the Alpenzoo. My noble son Christopher mentioned to me again that he wanted to show you his appreciation for rescuing Chauncey and making him better. He suggested inviting you to the zoo. I hope you will join us. If you can’t come, I understand. I’ll be downstairs working the desk this morning because Beatrice has the flu. You can stop by—or call the front desk—and let me know.

  Jack

  P.S. I hope you like the roses. They’re a small birthday gift from me.

  I can’t help but smile at Jack’s note. And how sweet of Christopher to remember he wanted to do something nice for me. I will go. It would be rude of me not to, especially since Christopher wants to show me his gratitude for taking care of Chauncey.

  I look at the roses. Jack could’ve picked any color. Well, not red; everyone knows red roses are meant for love and romance. I’m sure after his faux pas of kissing me the other night, he wants to play it as safe as possible. Maybe that’s why he chose white. White is pretty neutral. After our first date, when Mark had given me white roses, he’d told me it was fitting not only because my name means white but also because white roses signify new beginnings. Does Jack know what white roses convey? And if so, is he trying to tell me he wants a new start after his misstep the other night? Or am I reading too much into this? He probably just bought white roses to choose any color besides red. Still, I can’t help but find it a strange coincidence that he had given me the same color roses that my deceased fiancé always gave me.