A Christmas Collection: Four Sweet Holiday Romances

by Victorine E. Lieske

  Alexander sat down on the bench and fingered the keys. His grandfather had been there for him, whenever he needed him. But now, he was gone. Just like everyone else in his life. And Alexander was left alone to figure things out.

  Why was he messing up everything in his life? Why did he feel the need to take what good he’d been given and twist it around until it was warped? He was alone, and at this rate, he was going to be alone for the rest of his life.

  The door opened and he turned around on the bench to see Charley standing there. He inwardly sighed at the sight of her. She wore her hair up in a messy bun. It looked cute on her. Today’s socks were giant reindeer with red noses. They were ridiculous, but they fit her personality.

  She tentatively stepped into the room. “I’m sorry. I know I’m not supposed to bother you with questions. I just didn’t know…and I asked Dorothy and she said I should come find you to ask you because she didn’t know either, and I…”

  Now he’d made her so nervous, she couldn’t even talk. Nice. “Spit it out.”

  Charley’s face flushed and she looked to the floor. She brought something out from behind her back. It was a photograph in a silver picture frame. “The frame is real silver. But I’m not sure if you want me to put this in the auction box.”

  He motioned for her to bring it to him. She stepped forward and handed him the photograph. He knew it instantly. It was a snapshot of him and Sadie, right before they had gotten married. They were at a Christmas party. Sadie was laughing and he was looking at her like he adored her every move. They both looked so young.

  He touched the photo with his finger. Guilt rose up in his throat like bile. Sadie was gone, and he had to push those memories away. He didn’t want anything lying around the house to remind him of what he had done. He thrust the photo back at Charley. “Sell it. I don’t want it.”

  “Are you sure?” Charley took the photograph but looked like she was going to throw up. “What if you regret getting rid of it someday?”

  “I won’t.” He hadn’t meant to yell it, but that’s kind of how it came out. He turned away from her. “I don’t want to see it again. I don’t want to see any of it. That’s why I hired you. If you can’t do the job I hired you to do, then you can leave.”

  He sat staring down at the piano keys, waiting for her to leave. But when she didn’t move, he turned and glared at her. “I said—”

  “I know what you said, but you didn’t mean it.”

  He stared at her. “How dare you—”

  “Alex.”

  The way she said it, like his name was a soft caress, made his guilt cut into him. He should not be taking things out on Charley. She was only trying to help. He scrubbed a hand over his face and his shoulders fell. “I’m sorry.”

  She slowly sat down on the bench beside him. “I know. You’re in pain. But maybe you should keep a photograph. Something showing a happy time.” She held the photo between her shaking hands.

  She was quaking with fear. Of him? He felt terrible. He’d yelled at her again. How could he have done that? He swallowed, his guilt choking him. “Are you frightened of me?”

  She jerked her head up. “No.”

  “You’re trembling.”

  “I’m nervous.”

  It wasn’t fear? He looked into her green eyes. “To be around me?” he asked softly.

  She flinched. “Yes.”

  “Is that because of last night?”

  She didn’t answer, which told him the truth. He had destroyed everything good they had. He took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I’m sorry.”

  “I know.”

  He didn’t know how to fix things between them. The kiss. The blurting out that he loved her. It was all a mess. But maybe if he pushed it all aside, they could go on like it hadn’t happened. He decided to change the subject back to the photograph. He pointed at it. “I don’t want it around. It’s another reminder of what I did.”

  She placed her hand on top of his. “Today it is. I hope someday you can grow past that. I hope it will be a reminder of a good time in your life.”

  “I don’t want to look at it every day.”

  “Then let’s put it away. Even in this piano bench. Hide it so you don’t have to look at it. You can wait until it’s not painful anymore to bring it out.”

  He didn’t want to agree to that but couldn’t bear to tell Charley no. He struggled with his emotions for a moment, swallowing down the pain. “All right,” he finally said.

  She smiled at him. “I’m proud of you.” She stood and waited until he did the same before slipping the photograph into the bench. Then she sat back down, this time facing the piano keys. He sat beside her.

  “You don’t play the piano, do you?”

  He shook his head. “No.”

  “Why do you have one?”

  “My grandfather played. This was his piano. I just kept it after he passed.”

  Charley put her fingers on the keys and started playing a song. He raised an eyebrow. “I thought you didn’t know how to play?”

  She laughed. “It’s just “Heart and Soul.” Everybody knows how to play that song.”

  “I don’t.”

  She stopped and gave him a weird look. “You don’t?”

  “Nope.”

  “Do you want to learn?”

  He didn’t, but she seemed excited to teach him, so he shrugged. “Okay.”

  She placed his hand on the piano keys. “Perfect. You can play the left hand. Just play these four keys, like this.” She showed him which keys to hit and when to play them. He continued the rhythm and she started playing the higher notes. It actually sounded good.

  When she was done with the song, she laughed and clapped her hands. “Great job. Now I’ll teach you the other hand, and you can have one song you can play.”

  He stayed there with her showing him how to play “Heart and Soul” until he’d learned the song. He looked over to her, the dimple back on her cheek, along with the light in her eyes he’d gotten used to seeing. He enjoyed spending time with her. But he also had to remember how she’d reacted last night when he’d blurted out those three words that killed the mood. He couldn’t allow anything like that to happen again.

  “Does this song have words?”

  She nodded. “Yes. Play it and I’ll sing the words.”

  He went through the song she’d taught him, playing the tune as she sang. It was a sweet song about falling in love. She had a good voice, pure and lovely. When the song was done, she looked at him, her smile gone. The mood turned more serious. He leaned closer to her, and she swallowed, her gaze dipping to his lips.

  He wanted to kiss her again, but that was not going to happen. Not after his huge mistake last night. He simply put his hand on hers. “Thanks for showing me the song.”

  Her gaze lifted to his and he sat there, staring into her green eyes. She was beautiful. How had he not seen it before? He lifted his hand to her cheek, unable to stop himself from touching her creamy skin.

  A black streak jumped past his view and the piano made a noise. Charley turned and picked up the black kitten. “Milly! How did you get out of the garage?”

  She hugged the cat to her chest and hopped off the bench. “I’d better be getting back to the garage. I still have a lot left to go through.”

  Yeah. She wanted to get away from him. He swallowed down his hurt. “Of course.”

  Charley left him sitting on the piano bench, staring at the keys and wondering what he could have done to keep her there a little longer.

  Chapter 17

  Charley’s heart pounded as she practically ran back to the garage. Why had she stayed to play the piano with Alexander? Hadn’t she learned her lesson last night with the kiss? She needed to stay away from him. She couldn’t control herself around him. She’d been tempted to lock lips with him again. If Milly hadn’t jumped on the piano, she probably would have. How could she be so dumb?

  She set the kitten down by her food b
owl. “You eat, you naughty kitten.”

  The cat meowed at her but then put her head down and started eating the food. Charley turned back to her half-empty box and started pulling more things out, mostly empty picture frames. They were the cheap kind. Each frame ended up in the next box for charity.

  She worked until Dorothy told her lunch was ready. She didn’t want to eat lunch with Alexander, so she asked if she could eat while she worked. Dorothy huffed but gave her the sandwich on a paper plate and put her soup in a mug.

  That evening, Charley sat on the couch in front of the fireplace with a book Dorothy loaned her. Milly climbed onto her lap and curled up. Charley pet her black fur while she purred.

  Thomas entered the room and stoked the fire. “Do you need anything?” he asked her.

  “No, I’m fine. Thank you.”

  “How about you, sir?”

  Charley turned to see Alexander standing in the doorway. “No,” he said, answering Thomas.

  The butler nodded and left them alone in the room. Charley motioned to the seat next to her. “Do you want to sit?”

  Alexander hesitated but then nodded. “All right.” He walked around the couch and sat down. “What are you reading?”

  She turned the cover around so he could see. “Just something Dorothy gave me. She said this was one of her favorites.”

  “Nice.” He tapped his knee, like he wanted to say something else, but stayed silent.

  She pointed to the bare tree. “We never finished, did we?”

  “Nope.”

  A little guilt from leaving it undone snaked through her. “Should we do it tonight? I can help, if you bring in the lights.”

  He seemed to consider her words for a second. “Sure.” He left the room, then a second later, came back with two tubs marked Christmas Tree Decorations.

  She set her book down. “Okay, Milly. Time to get off. I have to stand up.”

  The kitten ignored her, so she scooped her up and set her on the couch next to her. The kitten gave her a disgruntled look, but stretched her back, then circled around twice before curling back up and going to sleep.

  Alexander opened the first tub and pulled out a tangled wad of Christmas lights. He blushed. “Guess I wasn’t very careful when I put these away.”

  Charley realized it was probably because his wife had just died, and he was in shock. She plastered on a smile. “That’s okay. We can untangle them.” She hopped over the tub and took a portion of the lights from him.

  “This is going to take all night,” he said after a minute of working on the mess.

  “You give up too easily. Turn on your music. We need something to work to.” She gave him an encouraging smile.

  He pulled his phone out of his pocket and turned on the app she’d installed, then he started up a playlist. He set his phone on the mantle and it sounded through the room.

  “Perfect,” Charley said.

  After twenty minutes of tugging on strings, and Alexander putting the untangled ones around his neck, they were still trying to get one set of lights separated from the bunch. Charley giggled as she pulled on one string and it caused another to wrap around his neck. “Oops.”

  “Yeah, don’t do that. I do like to breathe.”

  “Sorry.” She tried to act sorry, but her smile wouldn’t let her.

  “You really sound sorry,” he said, a chuckle escaping.

  “I promise, I won’t strangle you.”

  “Good.”

  As she worked, she motioned to him. “Hey, I have another part untangled. Let me hang it on your arm.”

  He rolled his eyes but obediently held out his arm. “You’re making me look ridiculous, you know.”

  “You’re the one who started out using yourself as the Christmas light string holder. I’m just utilizing you in a more efficient way.”

  Twenty minutes later he looked like he was trying to be the Christmas tree. Charley finally untangled the last of the string and hung it on his other arm. “There! We did it. Now, just hold still.”

  “No way am I moving. They’ll get all tangled again. But please hurry. My arms are starting to ache.”

  Charley got a wicked idea. “Just a second.”

  She opened the ornament tub and grabbed the star topper. She scooted the tub over to him, stood on it, and placed the star carefully on his head.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Nothing.” She hopped down from the tub and pulled out her phone. A look of horror came over his face.

  “Oh, no. You’re not going to take a picture of me. No way.” He said this, but he still didn’t move, and Charley opened the camera app.

  “You’re too cute not to.”

  “Charley!” He would have sounded more threatening if he hadn’t been almost laughing when he said it.

  “Just a second. I can’t take the picture yet.” She ran and grabbed the end of the string, plugging it into the wall. All the lights lit up. “There.” She walked back to where she was and put her phone up.

  “If you take that photo, you are fired.”

  She paused and seemed to consider it for a moment. “You mean, I won’t have to finish going through the junk in your garage? And I’ll have this nice photograph of you that I can probably sell to the tabloids for twice what you agreed to pay me?”

  “Funny. Put down your phone and let’s get the tree finished.”

  “I don’t know. I kind of like the idea of having a photo of you pretending you’re a Christmas tree.” She put her phone back up to snap the picture.

  “Charley!”

  Dorothy came into the room, took one look at Alexander, and busted up laughing. “Whatever you two are doing, keep it going. This is hilarious.”

  “Help me out, Dorothy. I think my arms are going to fall off, and this horrible woman is making fun of me.”

  “Hurry and take the picture, dear. He’s getting grumpy.” Dorothy laughed and left the room.

  Charley shoved her phone back in her pocket. “Come on. I’ll help you transfer these to the tree.” She began taking the strings off his arms so he could put them down.

  “Did you take the picture?” He reached up and took the star off his head.

  “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

  “Yes. Very much so.”

  She held back a giggle. “Well, then I guess you’ll just have to wait and see what my Christmas cards look like this year.”

  He grinned at her. “It’s too late to send out Christmas cards.”

  She wrapped a string around the bottom branches. “Not for me. I’ve been known to send them out up to a week after Christmas. The post office is always busy. Easy to blame them for it being late.” She gave him a sly smile.

  “You are pure evil.”

  “And you need to start helping me string these lights or your tree is only going to be lit up on the bottom half.”

  He chuckled. “You are quite height-challenged.”

  “Shut up. I’m sensitive about it.” She stood on her tip toes and continued to string the lights. They worked in silence for a few minutes, getting the lights put in place.

  Alexander turned to her. “What is it you love so much about antiques?”

  Charley took in a breath, letting it out slowly. That was a hard question to answer. She loved a lot of things about them. But there was one thing that stood out. “I love the history. I love that each piece tells a story. The way we make things today is so different. We make them disposable. Your chair breaks, you toss it and get another one. There’s no craft to it. The antiques were made with such care. Many of them even have the maker’s mark on them. Like a painting, I can often tell who made something without even having to look at the mark. This is true art.”

  He paused, a string of lights hanging in his hand. “I can tell you love it.”

  “I do.”

  Alexander finished stringing the last strand of lights. Then he placed the star on the top. “Now all we need are the ornaments.”

  Ch
arley opened the tub and pulled out a little nutcracker. “Oh, I love this one.”

  He smiled. “One of my favorites as a kid.”

  “These are all from when you were growing up?”

  “Not all of them. Sadie and I added to the stash.”

  For some reason, a tiny bit of jealousy surged in Charley, which was odd. Why should she be jealous of him and his wife? She shoved it aside. “Nice.”

  As they hung ornaments, she tapped her toes to the music his phone played. “Did your grandfather get to meet Sadie?” She cringed at the question. Why was she asking about that?

  “Yes. He passed a year after we met. I knew I was going to marry her three months into the relationship. He didn’t get to see the wedding, but he saw the engagement ring on her finger.”

  “I’m glad.” She pulled out a tiny sled and hung it on the tree. “I’m sure he was happy to see you with someone.”

  “He was.”

  She paused, and curiosity got the better of her. “Can I ask you a question? And if you don’t want to answer, that’s fine. I don’t want to make things weird between us. I’ve just been wondering, and I can’t seem to find the right time to ask—”

  “Charley,” he interrupted, taking her hands in his. “Just ask.”

  She ignored the tingles that erupted over her skin at his touch. “Okay. I was just curious about your father. What happened to him?”

  Alexander’s jaw clenched and released a few times. “That’s a long story.”

  “I’m sorry. You don’t have to tell me. I was just curious.”

  His features softened. “No, I don’t mind.” He continued to hang ornaments as he seemed to gather his thoughts. Finally, he spoke. “My mother died during childbirth. My father was devastated, of course. He never really got over it. And he blamed me.”

  “Oh, dear.” Charley hadn’t meant to say anything, and her hand flew to her mouth. “Sorry. Go on.”

  Alexander picked another ornament from the tub. It was an angel. He stared at it while he spoke. “My father was a cold man. He was always distant. He was forced to move back home to live with his father when I was born. He hated me for what I had done to his life.”