Christmas Promise

by Kaylie Singleton

  As the other girls begin cooking breakfast, I offer to be in charge of brewing tea and coffee to serve. Sneakily, I also prepare a mug of hot cocoa and then slip back through to the dining area to leave it with James.

  He’s awake when I return, sitting propped up against some cushions and sniffling loudly into a tissue. He sees me arrive and gives me a tired smile, his eyes red and raw like someone with hay fever.

  “Hey there, Sleeping Beauty. Hot cocoa?” I ask, offering it to him.

  His smile grows wider as he stretches out his hands for the mug.

  “Thank you,” he says thickly. “I’m feeling more than a little sorry for myself, I confess.”

  “I can see that,” I say, but my voice is full of fondness. “I thought you’d be jumping for joy today, cold or no cold. It’s the most wonderful time of the year, after all.”

  James rolls his eyes affectionately. “Well, I think you’re a week too late for that kind of attitude. New Year’s can’t trump Christmas. But yes, I’m excited. I like New Year’s Eve. Don’t you?”

  “Honestly? Not really. I never have. I know fireworks are pretty, and that it’s nice to be around family and friends, but the event never lives up to the hype, you know?”

  “God, you’re negative. You could be British. We do love to complain,” James says, sipping his hot cocoa. He sighs as the liquid pours down his throat. “Oh, my. That hits the spot.”

  “Simply spiffing,” I tease, putting on an exaggerated version of his accent.

  James bursts out laughing, almost spilling his drink on himself.

  “Woah. You’ve got the accent spot-on,” he says sarcastically. He bows his head, staring into his mug. “But I do understand what you mean, yes. If I’m honest, New Year’s is a little bittersweet for me.”

  I raise my eyebrows. In all of the time I’ve known him, he’s never tried to approach a sensitive or emotional subject. He’s tried to tease information out of me on more than one occasion, but he’s never offered up something in this way.

  “Yeah? Why’s that?”

  James sighs with a sad little smile. “Well, sometimes these occasions bring out the confident sides of us, right? I was in love with a girl for a long time… I guess you could call her my childhood sweetheart. Her name was Jennifer. We had our first kiss on New Year’s Eve. It’s only recently that I’ve made the trip here with my parents over a New Year… When I was younger, I’d insist on staying at home with her over the holiday season. But just before she turned twenty-one…she died. She had leukemia for a year…and in the end, she couldn’t fight it. So I guess this time of year brings back memories of her.”

  I cover my mouth to hide my shock. I had no idea James had such a difficult past. For the love of his life to die so young…I can’t believe that he’s as happy as he is now. I’m still suffering from what David did to me, and yet that’s nothing compared to what James has been through.

  “I had no idea. I’m so sorry, James.”

  He smiles sadly. “There’s nothing to be sorry for, Hazel. She was sick… She was suffering. In the end, she passed peacefully. Before she died, she made me promise to live my life to the full. I guess she figured that if only one of us was going to have a chance at life, then I had to live it for the both of us. And that’s what I’ve tried to do.” He pauses and chuckles. “Except when I have man flu. She always teased me for being dramatic about it.”

  I wish I could hug him right now. He’s smiling, but his eyes look sad. He seems…lost. I sink onto the sofa beside him, forgetting that I’m supposed to be working. I can’t walk away when we’re talking about something serious. I need to be here for him.

  “James, what you went through…that’s hard. I know you think you have to live a certain way to honor her, but it’s okay to hurt.”

  James nods, his face serious for the first time since I met him. “I know that. I really do. I wouldn’t ever dream of forcing myself to smile when I’m dying inside. But it’s been five years now…and it’s gotten a little easier. I think about her, of course… I care about her, of course. But she’s gone, and I can’t change that. I don’t want to live my life in misery, selfish as it might sound. I always feel a little sad on days like today, when I know I would have been with her. But it doesn’t mean that I'm going to let it ruin me. Life goes on… It has to. Or what’s the point in being alive?”

  It shocks me a little to hear him saying it out loud, but he’s right. Of course, he is. It’s like he’s inadvertently reminding me that I have to let go of the past. You can’t have a happy future until you let a difficult past fade into the background. How is it that he’s managed to do it when I’m still trying so desperately to move on? He must be stronger than I am. Tears prickle in my eyes, but I don’t let them spill. Because he’s right.

  It’s time to let go.

  “James, I honestly find your attitude inspiring. I wish I was more like you,” I say openly. I’m not one for laying my cards on the table, but I have to let him see the real me. I have to let him know I’m not just some closed off, cold person. I have feelings, and I need to let them show.

  James shakes his head. “It’s taken a long time to get to this stage, Hazel. People heal at different speeds… Some people are confused about how I handled Jennifer’s death. They’d see me smiling and think it was too soon. But I know that she wouldn’t want me to cry over her for years…and that helped a little. There wasn’t a toxic bone in her body, and she wouldn’t want more suffering to be born from hers. I think a lot of people suffer when they’re hurt by someone else, someone that can keep hurting them over and over…at least I know she would never do this to me on purpose.”

  That comment really hits home. It makes me wonder if David thinks of me. I wonder if he feels some kind of bliss knowing that I’m still out here thinking of him. Maybe he took joy in his affair, knowing it would hurt me. This world is crueler than I ever thought it could be. I’ve learned that these past few years.

  And yet there are men like James. Sure, he can be a pain in the ass. Maybe he’s a little too flirty with anything that moves, and maybe he can act like a snob from time to time. But his heart is good. He wouldn’t do anything malicious. He’s been to hell and back and hasn’t let it define him.

  James nudges me with his knee. “You alright?”

  I shake my head with a smile. “We’re talking about you’re past and you’re asking me if I’m okay. I should be asking you that.”

  James shrugs. “I’m okay. I’m not perfect. It hurts a little today. But I’m going to live my life to the full, just like she would’ve wanted. Tonight, I’ll drag my ass outside and watch the fireworks, flu or no flu. I’ll eat too much at the buffet and spend the whole night complaining of a stomachache. And then…if I’ve got the courage…I might ask the girl I’m crushing on to kiss me.”

  My heart freezes in fright. Does he mean me? Does he really want to kiss me of all people? I can barely breathe as our eyes meet. I force a chuckle.

  “Well, you know…no one will kiss you with a nose full of snot,” I tease him, my heart pounding hard against my chest.

  He smiles, sitting up and moving closer to me. God, he’s beautiful. Even in the state he’s in, I want him to be mine so badly. I want to run my hands through his curls. I want to hold him close and feel the warmth of his body. I want him to look at me like he cares, the way he has been for days and I’ve tried to ignore it. Well, I’m not ignoring him now. In fact, he’s the only thing I can see.

  James reaches out to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “No one will kiss me, hmm?” he murmurs. “Not even you?”

  I hold my breath. I want to kiss him so badly. So when he leans in and presses his lips to mine, I close my eyes, letting my hand move to his cheek. His lips are a little chapped, and I think he’s having as much trouble breathing as I am, but it feels magical to me. He kisses me again and I’m melting inside, my skin tingling. I’d forgotten how it feels to have someone kiss me so gently, so lovingly.r />
  When we pull apart, he’s smiling happily. Even after the conversation we just had, I can tell he’s pleased with what just happened. I can tell he wants this. He caresses my cheek.

  “So I guess you did want to kiss me after all,” he murmurs, his voice husky from his sore throat.

  “I guess I’ve lowered my standards. Thanks for sharing your germs with me,” I tell him.

  He laughs loudly, clutching his chest as it sets off a chorus of coughing. I raise my eyebrows, acting nonchalant even though inside I’m dancing for joy.

  “Sexy,” I comment.

  He splutters, swatting me as he laughs. He’s grinning to himself even through his coughing fit. I can’t help smiling back. This feeling is so amazing. I never want it to end.

  “I have to go,” I admit sadly. I don’t want to move, but if I don’t, it’s likely I’ll lose my job.

  James smiles and nods, squeezing my hand gently.

  “That’s alright. Off you go, busy bee. Promise you’ll come and see me later, though? You owe me a night in front of the fireworks…and I still want to see your photography.”

  “Alright, alright, if you insist…”

  “And, Hazel?”

  “Mmm?”

  “Did I win? Do you love the holiday season yet?”

  I roll my eyes with a warm smile. “You’re getting closer…I promise.”

  “Yes! I knew I would. Well, we’ve still got a few days left regardless. I’ll make this the best New Year yet, Hazel. I swear, it’ll live up to the hype.”

  I can’t stop smiling as I walk away. I can feel his eyes lingering on me, and it fills me with warmth. He likes me… He really likes me. I haven’t been imagining this…

  It’s almost too good to be true.

  8

  Eight Maids a-Milking

  Last night was like something out of a dream for me. James kept to his promises and gave me even more. We watched the fireworks together at midnight and drank mulled wine by the fire, talking for hours. I showed him my photography and he praised me, as though it was the best thing he’d ever seen. We snuggled close under blankets, and I broke all of my own rules about the festive season. I ate foods that have left a bad taste in my mouth since David left. I drank more mulled wine last night than I have for four years. I allowed myself to give in to all the positive feelings in my heart, and it felt good. When James kissed me goodnight and wished me a Happy New Year, I felt my heart soaring. I was on top of the world.

  So why do I feel so strange today?

  A lot happened yesterday, for sure. It’s only natural that it shook me up. From James’ story about Jennifer to my kiss with him, my whole world turned upside down. It makes sense that I feel a little odd. The pessimist in me is probably looking for something to be wrong. And even though it’s entirely possible that everything is absolutely fine, I still feel like something bad might be about to happen.

  He was my first kiss since David. Or at least, my first kiss with any meaning. I spent a long time feeling lousy, convincing myself that I’m unworthy of anyone’s love, let alone someone as pure and perfect as James. His story yesterday only intensified the fact that he’s flawless to me. But while all bad situations have a silver lining, every perfect scenario has something to turn it sour.

  James will go back to England soon enough. I’ll go back home to New York, and we won’t see each other for another year. That’s too long. Slowly, his feelings for me will fall flat. He’ll forget that I exist and go back to his life in high-society. He’ll go to parties and there will be pretty girls there who will catch his eye. And who am I kidding? We’ve shared one kiss. It’s not like we’re getting married tomorrow. A kiss means nothing in this day and age. I can hardly get mad at him for moving on at some point. Hasn’t everyone indulged in a holiday romance at one point or another?

  But it hurts. It hurts to imagine there is someone else out there for him. The romantic in me wants him to only have eyes for me. The wounded heart in my chest wants this to be the perfect happily ever after. If James can’t offer me that, then isn’t it better for me to withdraw before I get hurt?

  I can’t do this. I thought I could, but I can’t. As I watch a piece of paper being shoved under my door, I close my eyes. He’s trying so hard, but how long can that last? How can we survive when we’re separated by thousands of miles?

  As I get up out of bed, I ignore the drawing on the floor.

  Today is a new form of torture. Trying to ignore James after the kiss we shared was never going to be easy, but everyone is in such good spirits today that it’s impossible to hide my own gloominess. As everyone wishes each other a Happy New Year, I weave through the crowds to serve breakfast, trying my hardest not to catch James’ eye.

  But he’s making it so damn hard. He’s beaming to himself, peeping around others to get a glimpse of me as everyone mills around the dining area. I can see the enthusiasm in his bright eyes, and the way he ignored the prospect of conversation to carry on seeking me out. But I point-blank ignore him, keeping my head ducked as I offer out tea and coffee. I ask one of the other girls to handle the table where James and his family are sitting so that I don’t have to interact with them.

  And slowly, but surely, I watch as James comes to a realization. He’s noticed by now that I’m ignoring him, not just missing his glances by chance. His family tucks into a hearty breakfast, talking loudly about the antics of the previous night, but James doesn’t join in.

  After a while, he stops trying to seek me out. His gaze falls to his lap and he sits quietly, looking like a broken version of the James I know. It kills me to see it. I know that look. It’s the one I saw on my own face for months after David abandoned me. My throat hurts from the effort of trying not to cry. Watching his sadness, knowing it’s because of me, is painful. He doesn’t deserve to be treated this way. I should have found a way to speak to him honestly and tell him what’s on my mind. But if I spoke to him again, I don’t think I would’ve been able to let him go. If I heard one word uttered in his beautiful British accent, I’d fall for him even more hopelessly. It’s a dangerous game to play when hearts are involved. I think this must be for the best.

  So why does it hurt so damn much?

  I’ve never had such a long day before. James seemed to be everywhere, moping as much as me. I’m not the only person who noticed. His parents kept glancing at me, as though they knew I’d hurt him. It made me feel even worse after they’ve been so nice to me. I don’t deserve their kindness. I don’t deserve James.

  I lie down on my bed and cry. I haven’t cried in such a long time. I guess my constant sadness has made me forget what it’s like to be happy, but I never let this emotion out. Now, it’s more than I can handle. I wish things were different. Why couldn’t I fall for someone who is able to be a constant in my life? Why couldn’t I give my heart to someone who is able to handle it with care, to restore my faith in love?

  It’s not too late. Maybe I could speak to him and fix all of this. It’s so damn tempting, knowing that I can undo the damage I did today. But in the long-run, it has to be this way. There’s no point in holding on any longer.

  I just have to survive three more days. Then he’ll leave for the year and I won’t have to return here again. I don’t think I can, knowing we’ll both be here, pretending that last night didn’t happen.

  And all at once, I hate Christmas all over again.

  9

  Nine Ladies Dancing

  There’s a note under my door again this morning, which I wasn’t expecting. I thought that perhaps James would have had the sense to give up on me by now. Can’t he see that I’m a dead end? Can’t he see that I’m dragging him down with me?

  But I can’t resist having a look at the drawing. The one from yesterday remains undisturbed on my chest of drawers, and I don’t know if I’ll ever have the strength to open it. I imagine he drew something so full of emotion, so full of the passion we shared the previous night. After what I did to him yesterda
y, there’s no chance that this one will be so lovingly drawn.

  The picture depicts nine ladies doing the conga drunkenly at the New Year’s party, which manages to make me smile a little. But I can’t help noticing that the picture doesn’t seem quite as enthusiastically drawn today. I can almost feel his hurt radiating off the page. I almost cast it aside when I see that there’s something else, right in the corner of the paper…

  Can we talk?

  I sigh. I should’ve known he wouldn’t give up so quickly. He’s tough, resilient, caring. There’s no way he’s letting me get away without an explanation.

  At breakfast, I know I have to face him. I could hide away in the kitchen and prepare the food, but it would make me the world’s biggest coward. I might have let myself and James down already, but I don’t want to continue that pattern. I’m going to see him, no matter how difficult it is.

  I do feel a little relieved, however, when I arrive at breakfast and James is sitting with his parents. I take a deep breath, grabbing a pot of tea to serve them. As I approach the table, James offers me a smile, but it’s not one of his usual blinding beams. It’s withdrawn and sad, and it makes my heart ache.

  “Good morning,” I say to the trio. “Tea?”

  James’ mother looks at me with pained eyes. I wonder if he’s told her everything. They seem like a close-knit family so it’s likely. I blush. It’s bad enough that James is hurt… I didn’t mean to hurt anyone at all. But now the three of them are looking at me as though I’ve personally attacked them. I guess I have no one to blame but myself.

  “No, thank you, pet. Not today.”

  James’ father declines with a shake of his head, avoiding my gaze. James can’t even bring himself to speak. The pot of tea is shaking in my hands. This is even worse than I imagined, and suddenly, I can’t wait to get the hell out of there.