All I Want For Christmas: Holiday Romance

by Catelyn Meadows

  Saylor gave him a small wave before turning back to Greg.

  “Thanks for the ride,” she said, reaching for the handle.

  Greg’s arm stopped her. She met her brother’s eyes.

  “Happy New Year, Saylor,” he said.

  New Year indeed. “You too.”

  GRATITUDE SWELLED INSIDE of her as she watched Greg drive away and remembered his farewell greeting. Happy New Year. Merry Christmas. The irony of the season wasn’t lost on her. Christmas was the perfect time to find forgiveness. She remembered the argument she’d had with David over the Nativity book she’d asked him to read Parker on Christmas Eve.

  It truly was what Christmas was all about. It was because of Christmas—because of the baby in a manger, and later, the sacrifice He gave—the anxiety and loathing for her brother, the burden she’d been carrying for so long, had transformed into peace.

  At least where Greg was concerned. David, on the other hand...

  She replayed the scene again in her mind. David thrusting the invitation into her hand. Making his demands. Ordering her around like a member of his staff or an annoying waitress.

  He treated her as though she was at his disposal. As though she were inferior to him somehow.

  She’d never regret Parker. But it was still unfortunate she was obligated to see David because of the court ruling.

  After enjoying a longer-than-she-should-have-taken shower and a dinner of chicken nuggets and canned green beans with some milk, Saylor helped Parker get ready for bed. She enjoyed his prattle about superheroes and his progress learning to tie his shoes.

  “I do the bunny ears, just like you told me.”

  When it was time, she knelt with him beside his bed for their prayers like always, and basked in his little-armed, big-hearted hug.

  Keeping his hands on her shoulders, Parker grinned at her, showcasing the gap in his teeth. A gap now sporting the tiniest nub of white.

  “Would you look at that?” Saylor said. “It’s already starting to grow back.”

  Parker wriggled along the space with his tongue, then hopped into bed and flopped around to settle into his Spider-Man sheets. “They do that, you know,” he said. “Teeth aren’t gone forever.”

  It was so simple. To him, they were talking about lost teeth. In that moment, however, in light of everything that had happened, he spoke with wisdom beyond his years.

  “Not all loss is final,” Saylor said with dawning realization. Even when things seemed completely lost and done, there was always something to be learned. Change could be hard. Painful even. But necessary. She never would have met Cole if that wasn’t the case.

  “Not final,” Parker said, raising his tiny arms for another hug.

  Saylor squeezed him again, bending to give him another kiss. “Night, bud.”

  Leaving him in the glow of his nightlight, she tightened her sweater around her and headed for the couch. She couldn’t help taking in the sight of the mistletoe above the entryway between the kitchen and the living room while all kinds of amazing memories filled the air like cotton candy with it.

  She hadn’t been sure what to do about David’s wedding. She had no desire to attend. She had no desire to see him again, period.

  But Cole. Understanding, sweet, loving Cole, who had listened to her plight but had made things woefully clear he wanted nothing more to do with her. Could she blame him? Would she give him another chance if things were reversed?

  Yes. Cole was amazing. She would want to give him the benefit of the doubt. If only he would do the same for her.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Cole shifted into park and let his pickup idle. So this was where Brooke had ended up. She hadn’t been easy to find. Cole assumed she’d been living in the apartment they’d once shared, but after calling her best friend and worming the truth out of her, Kelly had finally given in and told Cole where he could find her.

  It wasn’t the nicest part of town. Though the city of Twin Falls had done quite a lot to update many of the buildings in the old sector, the homes here definitely showed signs of neglect.

  This home was particularly careworn. Its paint was peeling along the soffit and fascia. Someone along the way had tried adding stucco to the exterior, but weather had beaten against it, and it was peeling around the windows, revealing mustard-colored brick beneath. The chain-linked fence hugged a small yard where the snow hadn’t quite managed to cover all the dead weeds.

  A worm of guilt burrowed its way beneath his tongue. Brooke had always insisted on having the best of everything. He could imagine what living here was doing to her. What had brought her here?

  He pressed the ignition, cutting the engine, and pushed out into the snow. A large pit bull began growling and barking, making an appearance inside the fence. A pathetic chain did its best to keep the dog shackled to one of the poles, but Cole wouldn’t count on it keeping the dog from breaking free if it really wanted to.

  He wasn’t in the mood to test his theory on that score.

  Instead, he remained outside the fence, and shot Brooke a text. The first text he’d sent since their last conversation where she’d ignored everything he said.

  I’m outside your house.

  He took a calming breath, reminding himself of Saylor and the courage it must have taken for her to approach him as she had. Like their discussion, this conversation could go a number of ways. He hoped it would work out best for both of them.

  Communication was the key, Norah had said. It was clear Brooke had something on her mind, since she wouldn’t stop contacting him. She’d hinted at wanting to get back together with him, but maybe if he let her say whatever it was, they might be able to move on.

  Brooke slogged her way toward him, not from the front, past the barking dog, but from the backyard and the driveway beside the house. Her hair was in a ponytail, and she wore a sweater she’d wrapped tightly around herself.

  Arms folded, she sniffed, glancing down the street one way then another, as though not wanting others to see him.

  “How did you know where to find me?”

  “Kelly.”

  She inhaled and tightened her sweater. “That little weasel.”

  Cole pressed on. He knew her well enough to know, he had to get his point across before she managed to weave whatever her excuses would be. “I came to tell you in person, because I’m not sure you’re taking me seriously. I know you have it in your head we’re meant to be together. But I can’t go back there, not with you. I need you to understand. To give me space and let the past remain where it is.”

  “Even if I’ve changed my mind?” she said defiantly.

  “Yes. Because I haven’t.”

  “You might like what I have to say, Cole.”

  He gritted his teeth. Same old Brooke, never listening to anyone but herself. “About what?”

  She moved in, taking liberty to run her hand along his arm. “I want kids. With you.” Her eyes burned with insinuations and memory.

  Cole shook her off and stepped back. How dare she? “You can’t be serious.”

  How could she not remember how badly she’d hurt him? Recollections of her selfishness flooded back in an instant. Sometimes forgiveness was possible, and he had forgiven her. But forgiveness didn’t mean he had to allow the cycle to continue.

  “You haven’t changed that much. I know you never wanted kids. What do you really want?”

  Her coy smile flattened to a grimace. Her hands dropped to her side, and all play at friendliness or flirtation dropped with them. “You want the truth? Fine. I lost my job. I’m tired of living here, bumming off coworkers.” She jabbed a thumb in the air toward the decrepit house.

  “So you need me to rescue you.”

  Her lips quirked. “You always had a tender heart. Look how you took my cat in. Look how you’re always helping out the little guy, allowing random people like Jack Prescott to work for you when you only knew him a matter of minutes.”

  “Jack has proven himself mor
e than just a little guy. He’s my friend.”

  A single shrug. A step closer. “He is now. I’m saying, you trust easily, Cole. It’s what makes you so attractive.”

  Somehow, she’d managed to snake her arm up behind his neck to toy with his hair. Cole swatted her away and reinserted the space between them.

  “Don’t do this,” he said. “If you need help, ask for it, but I’m not getting back together with you. You’re not moving in to live off of me.”

  Her expression folded faster than origami into the version she usually stored beneath the surface, the version that had reared its ugly head after he’d married her.

  “You can’t turn me away. You owe me.”

  Cole’s mouth dropped. He thought of a thousand things he could say. A thousand stabs that would leave marks. With the shambled house behind her, the dog’s incessant barking, the pathetic state of her sweater and the plea in her eyes battling sheer spite, all of those remarks blew away with the wind.

  “Brooke. Let this go. I will help you if you need it, but nothing more can happen between us. Can you please accept that?”

  “You’ll help me how?”

  He tensed at the insinuation. “I don’t believe in giving you money just to give you money. I can help you find a job, though.”

  She curled her lip. “A job where?”

  “I don’t know yet. I said I’d help, remember?” He added a smile, hoping to thaw her. He stepped forward, pulling her into a hug. To his surprise, she let him.

  They stood there on the end of the driveway. The day’s cold blustered around him, but he held her, hoping she read the gesture for what it was meant to signify. An ending. An offering. She needed to let him go. She needed to get back on her feet. He would help her with that much, and then she needed to move on.

  “You like her, don’t you? Your pirate girl.”

  Cole’s hands clenched. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Saylor since she’d left his apartment. He lowered his arms and met Brooke’s eyes. “I do.”

  Brooke chewed her lip. This time, she was the first to step away and add distance. She gave off a smile of surrender and tossed her hands into the air. “Well, you can’t blame a girl for trying,” she said.

  “Actually—”

  “Don’t finish that.” Brooke’s brow snapped.

  Cole laughed, and a smile crept onto her cheeks as well. “I’m sorry things haven’t been going well for you,” he said.

  “I’ll manage. I always do.”

  “I know.”

  The dog’s barking finally diminished. Cole wondered if it had found something else to interest it. Brooke kicked at the snow before lifting her lashes.

  “I’m sorry, you know. Sorry I didn’t treat you better.”

  A bulge rose in Cole’s throat. “Those are words I never expected to hear.”

  “I mean them all the same. It could have been amazing, you and me.”

  “Yeah,” he said. “It could have. Things worked out, though.”

  “For you, maybe,” she said.

  “They will for you too.”

  She pursed her lips. “Thanks for stopping by, Cole. Good luck, you know, with pirate girl.”

  “Saylor,” he corrected.

  He was tempted to tell Brooke the status of things. How he’d basically ended it with Saylor. How he’d been pining over her ever since and was tempted to call her but worried how pathetic he would sound.

  The truth was, he’d probably crushed her. The more time passed, the more he was sure he’d made a mistake. Not only in hurting her feelings, but in hinting they should have any kind of separation between them at all. The problem now was, how could he make things right?

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Morning dawned, and Saylor’s heart drooped like a dehydrated flower at the sight of her phone’s blank screen. Cole still hadn’t contacted her.

  She did her best to shake it off. There were things to do. Feed Parker breakfast. Rescue her poor, sad little car, left alone in the parking lot for two nights now.

  Saylor’s dad gave her a ride to Cole’s building. There it sat in its same stall, stubborn as it’d been the night she’d left it here, refusing to start. Not that Saylor expected it to. Nothing else was going as she’d hoped. Why should her car?

  “It’ll be okay,” her dad said, handing her his cell phone. He’d already dialed the nearest tow services, so she hurriedly held it to her ear to speak with the attendant. She did her best to avoid sweeping the lot in search of a gray Dodge pickup or its handsome owner.

  Saylor sat in her dad’s passenger seat while the tow truck made its slow trek to them, and her father joined her in the waiting area at the mechanic’s shop, where the buoyant popcorn machine couldn’t quite mask the smell of oil and grease.

  She checked her phone at least a dozen times in the interim, but there was still nothing from Cole. A wedge settled into her chest, right in the space between her heart and her ribs.

  She considered texting him, but at the risk of conversation sputtering and dying like her little beater, she decided to leave things alone. If he wanted anything to do with her, he’d have to make the first move.

  That thought didn’t stop her from keeping tabs on the elevator at work or popping her head above her cubicle far more often than usual, with her foolish heart hoping Cole would make another appearance.

  He didn’t.

  The dreaded Friday finally arrived, and Saylor still wasn’t sure what to do about David’s wedding. As soon as she picked up Parker from daycare, David made his appearance on her doorstep without much of a discussion besides the reminder of his instructions. Saylor breathed through her nose during the entire exchange, irritation heating her blood.

  She stared out the window long after they left. Even into Saturday, she found herself ruminating, fuming over what she wished she would have said. Was her judgment clouded? She didn’t think so. David was getting married that evening, and if she wanted things to change, he certainly wasn’t going to be the one to instigate it. What, then, could she do?

  Through her front window, she caught sight of a fluttering bird. It landed on top of the snow, pecking at berries that had fallen from a tree.

  Despite her moodiness and frustration, the sight soothed her heart just enough, to know something so small and fun to watch could survive in the cold. Saylor wondered if it was the same bird that had hit the window back at Drex Corp, the same one who’d only seen its reflection instead of the building beyond.

  How often did that happen, not only to birds, but people as well? How often did they focus only on things as they perceived them to be, not how they actually were?

  It was time she stopped looking at herself that way. She was no different from that bird. Watching her life as if through glass. It was problematic. All it did was make her crash into things.

  She thought about her brother’s words. Greg had called her strong. Strong enough to raise Parker, strong enough let this go.

  David had Amanda, and that was okay.

  Saylor’s limbs loosened, and the wedge in her chest dissolved at the realization. Everything was okay. Even without Cole, even without all of this, she was strong. Strong enough to move on.

  It had been so daunting to confront Greg, to dredge up the past and address what needed to be addressed. But letting go of past hurts toward her brother had been so liberating, so incredibly restorative. She needed some more of that restoration fever.

  Saylor thought through things for the length of a snap before rising from the couch with renewed purpose flowing through her veins. She charged to the laundry room to retrieve her coat and hat, pausing to grab a few things before she headed out.

  Determination fizzed in her fingertips. She stopped first at the dry cleaner’s to retrieve Parker’s rented suit, and then drove with resolve to the house David and Amanda had bought. It was on the other side of Twin Falls, the same side as Cole’s office building, near the Snake River Canyon. With its triple gara
ge doors, wide windows, and sky-reaching brick columns leading to a grand front door, the place screamed money.

  Steeling herself, Saylor marched straight up to the large porch and knocked on the imposing wood door.

  Amanda answered, her expression dimming at the sight of Saylor. Her long, platinum blonde hair was pulled away from her face. She’d be beautiful if it wasn’t for the dreadful sneer taking permanent residence there.

  “It’s not six o’clock yet,” Amanda said without any other preliminaries. “We still have him for a few more hours.”

  A ring of clarity settled over Saylor at the sight of her, with her pointed nose and thin mouth. This selfish woman who first stole Saylor’s husband and was now after her child. Never mind the fact they were already expecting Saylor to pick him up in a few more hours—for their wedding. This was how Amanda talked to her? Conviction followed, conviction which allowed Saylor the freedom to breathe. It was freedom she hadn’t felt in months.

  “It’s one thing for you to sweep in when I wasn’t looking and steal the man I loved out from under me.”

  Amanda folded her arms, and Saylor saw it. Bitterness. Defensiveness. Challenge in her green eyes.

  “As one mother to another, I’m sure you’ll understand what I’m saying.” Saylor forced herself not to snap. “Parker is my son. Not yours. Mine. And if I want to see him, I’m going to see him.”

  Pursing her lips, Amanda pressed a hand to her stomach and stepped aside. It’d been only an assumption—based on something David had said being the reason they’d bumped their wedding up—but it turned out Saylor was right. Amanda was expecting.

  Saylor pushed past her into a glistening foyer she would only ever dream of owning.

  “He’s in on the couch,” Amanda finally said.

  Saylor ignored her. She wasn’t here to see Parker—for once—though she did glance across the open living area toward where a TV blared. Parker’s little head poked above the top of the leather couch.