by Amie Denman
“Sit down, son. Why are you so afraid to talk about this?”
“I’m not afraid, I’m just concerned for your well-being.”
“I can’t count how many times I’ve asked you if you were okay in the years since we lost your mother. Every single time you said you were fine, and every single time I didn’t believe you.”
“I was fine,” Nate said. “Still am.”
“How long do you think you can keep your outer shell in place before you admit you need other people and you’re not fine? Having cancer has taught me that lesson, and it’s a cruel teacher I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy, let alone my only son.”
Nate went to the door and asked the nurse for a breakfast tray. When he returned to his chair by his father’s bed, he thought his dad had drifted off to sleep.
“Talk to me, son,” his dad said. “What are you going to do when I’m through with cancer, however it turns out?”
“I have a great job at the Point.”
“Does it make you happy?”
“It’s what I went to college for, and they treat me well.”
“That’s not what I asked. And what about Alice? What are you going to do about her?”
This was going too far. The last thing Nate wanted to do was hurt his father’s feelings, especially when he was sick, but he couldn’t maintain his outward calm while someone was digging around in his heart with a soup spoon.
“We’re not at a slumber party, Dad. I didn’t come prepared to talk about my feelings.” His tone was atrocious. Talking to his father like that, especially when he was in the hospital battling cancer, was out of character. Where was his smooth PR facade he’d so carefully cultivated?
The nurse came in and checked his father’s IV. She smiled at Nate and asked if he wanted some water or some coffee. He tried to flash his everything’s fine smile, but it wouldn’t work. The nurse told him she was bringing him coffee even though he hadn’t asked. Even a stranger could tell he wasn’t okay.
“Why are you so afraid?” his father asked after the nurse left.
Nate thought he was going to lose it. He’d listened to his father sobbing in his room at night. Had his father also listened outside his door, wondering when he was going to cry?
“Well,” Nate said, “my mother was killed by a drunk driver when I was twelve and my fiancée dumped me at the altar ten years later. So you can imagine how much I don’t love talking about my feelings.”
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Susan asked. She’d come into the room at the absolute wrong moment.
Nate put his head in his hands with the intention of avoiding the looks his father and sister were giving him. Instead, to his utter horror, he started to cry. He shook with sobs until he couldn’t breathe. His father swung out of bed to put an arm around him, and his sister patted his back and told him she loved him.
He hadn’t been so ashamed of himself since his mother’s funeral.
* * *
VIRGINIA SUMMONED HER courage and knocked on Henry’s front door. Although just past seven, the evening was completely dark except for the brightly colored Christmas bulbs wrapped around the porch posts and strung through the bushes.
Was she making a big mistake? What if Henry didn’t feel the same way about her that she felt about him? There was only one way to find out, and she hadn’t survived fifty-seven years on the planet by being a coward.
Henry opened the porch door. His eyebrows went up and his smile went wide. “Virginia! Come in!”
She stepped into the rectangle of light and warmth and Henry pulled the door shut. Very promising so far. He had not asked her what she was doing there. If he had, her plan was to say her car was making a funny noise and she was in the neighborhood. She hadn’t believed she would need that flimsy excuse, but she was new to the business of putting her heart in risky situations.
“I know I was taking a chance,” she said. “That you’d be home, I mean.”
Henry spread his arms wide. “Here I am.” Without ceremony, he pulled her close and kissed her. “You’ve never been to my house,” he said. “I’m so glad you came.”
“I was afraid I might be intruding.”
He laughed. “You’ve been in my airplane and your dog knows which of my pockets to find treats in. We have no secrets between us.”
“You know what I mean.”
His expression sobered. “I do. And now that you’re here, I hope you’ll stay. I was just sitting here looking at my tree and wondering why I bothered to decorate it when there’s no one to share it with.”
“I was looking at my tree thinking the same thing,” Virginia admitted.
She was lucky enough to have her children and grandchildren nearby. They had helped put up the tree, and many of the decorations were handmade keepsakes from elementary school or tiny family pictures in hanging frames. But Henry had almost no family in town. Had no one else seen his tree this season?
“Do you think maybe we should...get together and share a tree next year?” Henry asked. “So we don’t have to sit in separate houses and look at our trees all alone.”
She grinned at him. “I’d have to see what yours looks like first, and then maybe I could be convinced.”
“Right this way.”
“Wait,” she said. “Let me grab something from my car. It’s an early Christmas gift.”
Virginia retrieved the wrapped sweater from the back seat of her car while Henry stood in his front door, waiting.
“You can open it now or tuck it under your tree,” she said, handing him the package.
Virginia unzipped her winter coat and Henry put it on a hook inside the front door. She kicked off her boots and left them on the rug by the front door. Henry waited and then guided her into his living room, where a tall evergreen stood in front of a wide picture window. White lights circled the tree, but there were only a dozen red bulbs and another dozen miniature airplanes filling in the rest of the space.
“I know,” he said. “It looks pretty sparse. I never had a real tree because I was always up in the air. Somehow, I thought one box of bulbs would go a lot farther than it did.”
“I like the airplanes,” Virginia commented.
“All gifts from family and coworkers. I was pretty excited to finally use them.”
“I have carousel horses on mine. They were also gifts from people over the years because everyone knows I love the painted ponies.”
Henry put the gift under the tree and then sat on the couch and pulled Virginia down next to him. He put an arm around her and she turned into his embrace to kiss him.
“When I came over here, this is exactly what I hoped would happen,” Virginia said.
An oven timer in the kitchen rang loudly.
“I didn’t plan on that,” she joked.
“Dinner,” Henry said. He touched his forehead to hers and kept his arm around her. “There’s plenty for two if you like macaroni and cheese.”
“I love it.”
“I bought it frozen and just heated it up, so I can’t take credit or blame for the quality.”
“That’s my favorite kind of cooking.”
Henry offered Virginia a hand and they went into the kitchen. She waited while he slid the casserole dish out of the oven.
After turning Henry down for a real date a month and a half earlier, was it too late to ask for another chance? Everything about his verbal and body language told her to go ahead. She was the only person standing in her way.
“After dinner,” she began. Henry’s head snapped up and he parked the casserole dish on the counter and turned to face her. “Could I take you up on that offer of a glass of wine downtown?” she asked. “I love walking around and seeing the decorated windows and Christmas lights.”
“And seeing Starlight Point from across the bay,” he added.
> “Especially that. I’m glad we’re leaving the coaster lights on all winter this year. It makes the long, dark nights a lot more cheerful.”
“You’re making my winter more cheerful already.”
“If we team up, we’ll survive the cold to run the sand castle contest next summer and do battle with pumpkin eating squirrels next fall.”
Henry smiled at her. “Next year, do you think there will be room on your tree for both airplanes and carousel horses?”
“That’s why I’m here,” she said.
Henry peeled off his oven mitts and put his warm hands on Virginia’s cheeks. “I’d be happy to skip dinner and get straight to the wine, walking and whatever else you have in mind.”
“There’s plenty of time,” Virginia said. “We’ve waited all summer. And I’d hate to miss out on the food. It’ll help keep us warm.”
Henry kissed her and Virginia knew she would have no trouble staying warm, no matter how hard the wind blew across the bay.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
“LET ME HELP you with that,” Nate said. “I have experience moving evergreen trees.”
Alice stood aside while Nate hefted the potted tree. He followed her to one of the tall columns supporting the ballroom’s roof. The elegant art deco room sparkled with Christmas cheer including evergreens, white lights, red tablecloths and glass hurricane lamps shielding white and gold candles on the tables.
“Lucky for us,” Alice said, “we don’t have to do all this work twice. Tonight’s wedding is the last one before Christmas, and the bride and groom were happy to save money on decorations by using the ones we were buying anyway.”
Nate picked up the next tree and followed Alice. He breathed heavily with the exertion of carrying the tree and with the excitement of what he wanted to say to her. He needed a chance to talk with her alone, but her usual staff of helpers, including Virginia and Henry—and Haley, who was home on college break—were all around asking for Alice’s input and instructions on the decor and setup.
“About the dance,” Nate said as he put down the tree and watched her wind lights around it. “I wanted to ask you—”
“I’m sure you received an invitation,” Alice said, cutting him off. “All the year-round employees did. I hear it’s quite a party.”
Nate tipped his head and grinned at her. “Aren’t you the one who sent the invitations out?”
“Yes.”
“So you know I got one, and you know it says I can bring a guest.”
“June and I did them together,” Alice said. She avoided looking at him as she fussed excessively with a red ribbon on the tree. “June loves Christmas. A few years ago, her wedding merged with the employee holiday dance because all the year-round employees would have been invited anyway.”
“That’s really nice, but—”
Why was she avoiding talking to him? She hadn’t hesitated to practically dive into the marina to save him just a week ago.
“Over here, Henry,” Alice called. She waved to Henry, who stood just inside the wide front doors of the ballroom with a tall Christmas tree over one shoulder.
“I’ve got the stand,” Virginia said, appearing from behind a group of decorated potted evergreens on the other side of the room. She held a red metal tree stand over her head as if in victory. “Found it in storage before I came over.”
“You two are a perfect combination,” Alice said, smiling and shaking her head.
Nate noticed the look Virginia and Alice exchanged. It was the kind of look that suggested they both knew something or had already worked something out. He leaned down and whispered, “What’s going on with those two?” His cheek brushed her hair and sent fire down his neck. He had to talk to her before he lost his mind or his nerve.
“You heard me,” she said. “They make a good combination. I thought that was obvious all summer and fall.” She didn’t move away from him, which was a good sign.
Nate took Alice’s arm and gently pulled her behind a column. She didn’t resist, instead tipping her head up and giving him her attention. How should he begin? “Can we talk?” Very original.
Alice swiped back a strand of auburn hair and tucked it into her ponytail. “Okay,” she said.
“Here?” Nate wanted an opportunity to talk with her without anyone listening. What he had to say was so important he’d spent three days thinking of how he would say it. Would he get it right if he had to blurt it out in a roomful of people decorating for a wedding?
Alice shrugged. “It’s snowing outside, and I need to make sure this gets done in the next hour or so. Could you tell me what’s on your mind right now? I promise to give you my full attention.”
He felt as if he was at the car dealership and the service manager was assuring him they were working diligently to get his oil changed. He wanted far more than her attention, especially with too many ears around.
As if it were an early gift, Christmas music started playing and filled the acoustically perfect ballroom with its rich sound. It created a cheerful wall of privacy around them. Thank you, whoever put on the music.
“I have a lot on my mind,” he said. He took her hand. “First of all, thank you for saving my life.”
Alice laughed nervously and picked evergreen needles out of her sweater’s sleeve. “I didn’t save your life. Your father is the one who hauled you onto the dock.”
“You helped.”
“I tried. You can’t believe how happy I was to reach into the water and find my red scarf. Especially because you were attached to it.”
“I never really believed I would die, but when I broke through the surface and saw you, I felt as if everything would be okay.”
She flushed red. “You give me far too much credit.”
“I’m telling the truth, and I’m not the only person who noticed it.”
“I would have tried to save anyone.”
“Am I just anyone to you?”
Alice shook her head and her eyes shone. Nate felt emotion welling up inside him, but he didn’t try to fight it for the first time in years. He didn’t know what to do next.
She studied his face as if she were at an art exhibit and she was looking for clues in a painting. Under her scrutiny, he did the one thing that had always saved him. He struggled for a neutral expression and tried to smile as if he had everything under control.
Alice frowned.
The Christmas music switched from a cheerful vocal tune to an orchestral waltz. He wanted to dance with Alice, to have her all to himself in his arms. Was it possible for them to start over?
“You’re not just anyone to me,” she said. “I never wanted to hurt you.” She breathed in and out slowly. “In fact, the reason I walked away from our wedding and our marriage was because I loved you...too much.”
Nate felt as if he’d been punched. How could she love him too much and not marry him?
“I know you won’t understand, at least I didn’t think you would at the time.”
“Why wouldn’t I?” he asked.
“I didn’t think you knew what it felt like to love someone so much it hurt. Our relationship was...disproportional. I felt I was giving you everything, but you were holding back. I tried to fool myself for a long time, thinking it would change as we got closer to the wedding.”
Nate shook his head, his mouth open and his throat tight. “You’re wrong.”
“I didn’t think so at the time. I loved you too much to marry you when I wasn’t sure you loved me. It would have broken my heart on our wedding day and every day of our marriage after that.”
“How can you think that I didn’t love you? I asked you to marry me. I said I loved you. What else was I supposed to do?”
Tears spilled down her cheeks. She put a hand on his arm and looked genuinely sorry for him. “Every time you said I love you, you said it as
if you were balancing a piece of glass or waiting for something to careen out of control.”
“I meant it.”
“I’m sorry, Nate. At the time, I couldn’t marry someone who said I love you cautiously.”
Nate had intended to open his heart to Alice, finally. After his breakdown with his father and his sister, he knew what he needed to do, even though it seemed pointless now. He pulled an old newspaper clipping from his pocket and crushed it into Alice’s hand.
She gave him a puzzled look and unfolded the delicate paper. “Is this you?” she asked at first. Nate didn’t answer. Alice was reading the caption below the picture that revealed him as an object of pity, a poster child for what drunk drivers can do to a family. To a child. She held the photo in her hand and looked from it to Nate and back again.
He suspected his expression matched the sorrow of the child in the picture, himself fifteen years ago, knowing he’d lost something irreplaceable. He was exposing his vulnerability again, and he was afraid it wouldn’t do any good. It hadn’t brought back his mother when he’d cried for her at her funeral. And trying to show Alice his feelings now wasn’t going to bring her back. He was afraid she wouldn’t believe him if he said I love you.
“I never saw this picture,” Alice said. “I knew what happened, of course, but I didn’t read the paper when I was twelve. I’m sorry. Has this picture been haunting you all these years?”
Nate paused, hoping to find the words to explain. “I felt humiliated every time the newspaper ran that picture in their campaign against drunken driving. It was a yearlong effort to raise awareness in the area, spearheaded by my uncle, the police officer.”
Alice slid into Nate’s arms and hugged him. It was a promising sign that she wasn’t walking away. They were behind a tall set of evergreens and practically alone. “Did he know how it made you feel to see that picture?” she asked, her words muffled against his chest.
Nate shook his head and his chin brushed her hair. He couldn’t trust his voice to speak. Of course his uncle didn’t know, and talking about his feelings with him would have been impossible. Nate’s father would have stopped the ad campaign if he had known how Nate felt, but Nate had been afraid to add to his dad’s grief by bringing up the subject.
