Holiday Kisses

by Anna J. Stewart

  Kendall, on the other hand? It wasn’t often Calliope found herself robbed of breath, or of words. It wasn’t that a lot of work had been done, because as near as Calliope could tell, not much had. But there was a revived majesty about the structure now, as if it had been bolstered by Kendall’s attention. Or perhaps merely by her presence.

  The towering piles of flooring, siding and crown molding, arranged on sawhorses that circled the base of the tower, seemed endless. Not much had been left on the lighthouse itself. Calliope shielded her eyes and looked up. The railing along the gallery had been ripped off, the glass from the lantern room removed, replaced with plywood. Even the old brass lightning rod at the tip-top was gone.

  The guest cottage perched on the slight hill along the cliffs had been freshly painted, although, no doubt still needed work on the inside. But the bright red door brought a smile to Calliope’s lips. Above the roar of the ocean, she caught the buzz of power tools. Shaking off her daze, Calliope strode in the direction of the sound.

  Kendall Davidson was running a large sander against the grain of an old piece of floorboard. Sawdust billowed up and around her and Calliope winced. She should be wearing a mask, but something told her advising Kendall to be cautious would be a mistake. Dust and paint caked the snug grey tank top she wore over jeans that sagged around the waist and bunched around her thighs. She’d lost weight again. As if she’d forgotten the importance of eating.

  Calliope stood where she was, patiently waiting for Kendall to finish or take a break, the basket clutched in both her hands. She wasn’t in any rush and, as she took a deep breath and let it out, she realized Kendall wasn’t the only one in need of solace.

  Her thoughts had been spinning from the moment Xander Costas stepped foot in Butterfly Harbor. Images of him flitted through her brain at the most inopportune times, both irritating her and bringing her an odd sense of calm. She’d long ago surrendered herself to whatever fate decided, but she had to draw the line somewhere. Xander Costas was not for her even as her own heart craved more moments with him. Quiet moments. Humorous moments. Any moments.

  Because being with him was when she felt most alive.

  The sander went quiet. Kendall reached over for a tack cloth, freezing momentarily as she caught sight of Calliope. Her dark brown gaze dropped to the basket before focusing on its owner. “Is that for me?”

  “If you’d like.” Again, Calliope didn’t know a lot about Kendall, but she suspected the woman didn’t take charity. “I overdid it on my baking yesterday and thought perhaps you might like some provisions.”

  Kendall’s lips twitched in a way that made Calliope feel as if she’d won a major prize. “You make it sound like I’ve walled myself off from the world. Or that I’m off on an excursion.”

  Calliope glanced around the restoration project Kendall had taken on for nothing more than the cost of supplies and a place to sleep. “There are all types of excursions. I can leave it inside if you’d like, if you’d rather not stop what you’re doing.”

  Kendall looked at her for a long, silent moment. “I can take a break,” she said finally. “Did Stella come with you?” She glanced behind Calliope with an odd, ghostly expression in her eyes.

  “No, she’s still in school.” Which was one reason Calliope had chosen now to visit. She’d seen Kendall around children off and on these last weeks, and it was clear they made her very uncomfortable. And sad. “I can’t wait to tell her what you’ve done with the place.”

  “Just got started.” Kendall grabbed a damp towel, cleaned her hands and brushed off her shirt, then she took the lead and led Calliope into the keeper house on the other side of the tower. “Haven’t had much time to do anything yet.”

  “Oh, but you have.” Calliope followed her through the worn, weathered, sagging door and set the basket on the small square table, the only piece of furniture in the entire cottage save for two rickety high-back chairs. A sleeping bag was arranged in the far corner, by the fireplace. A solitary duffel bag sat nearby, along with a second pair of work boots, a collection of paperback books and a pillow.

  The galley kitchen, even less spacious than the one in Xander’s guest cottage, housed a small icebox, a two-burner stove and a sink in desperate need of replacing. Calliope walked over and peered into the bathroom that housed only the necessities, including, to her surprise, a lovely old-fashioned claw-foot tub. The bathroom and the kitchen were sparkling clean.

  “Tell me you use that.” She pointed to the tub.

  “Every day.” Another smile flickered. “I’m sorry. I’m not really set up for company. Can I...?” She peered into the basket.

  “Of course.” Calliope could smell warped wood and the sea, as if it had seeped into every crevice of the building. Three small square windows overlooked the cliffs and ocean, and were smeared and obscured by years of neglect, salt water and sunshine.

  “I’m not much of a cook, so this is great.” She pulled out the mason jar filled with homemade granola, a paper bag containing half a dozen blueberry scones and a selection of fresh carrots, broccoli and radishes. “Thank you.”

  “I would imagine you often get lost in your work.” Calliope ran her hand over the beautifully restored stone hearth and fireplace. “I’ve been known to forget to eat on occasion. Especially when I’m tending to my garden.”

  “You do have a magic touch from what I hear.” Kendall pulled out a carrot, drew her hands down the stem and bit in. The snap echoed in the room. “A carrot that tastes like a carrot. Who knew.” She toasted Calliope as she would with a drink. “I’m afraid there’s not much to see yet. I’m still figuring out what all needs doing and how long it’s going to take.”

  “I’ve seen enough to know she’s in good hands.” Both Kendall and the lighthouse. They’d take care of each other. “Do you know much about its history?”

  “No. I just knew it was isolated and needed work.” Kendall took another bite of carrot. “That’s kind of my sweet spot.” She inclined her head as if assessing Calliope. “Do you want to see the best part?”

  “I would love to.” Hands clasped behind her back, she followed Kendall back outside and through the door of the lighthouse tower. She got the impression Kendall didn’t have a lot of friends, or even patience for people. She decided to wear the invitation to stay longer as a badge of honor.

  “I’ve got blue in mind for the door.” Kendall shoved the thick door open and moved a brick in front to brace it open. “Red’s overdone, don’t you think? It fits the cottage though. I’ve been trying to air the place out. Sorry, it’s still pretty musty.”

  “I’ve always liked how history smells.” Calliope hadn’t realized how spacious it was in here. A nice-sized room with windows along the rounded sides and a curving black metal staircase leading up to the next level.

  “I’m not sure if the city plans to furnish it once the restoration is done. But I would think this served as the engine room.” She shrugged. “I’m still learning about the architectural style of these beauties. A few of the upstairs windows have been blown out or obscured, but there’s five floors before you get to the gallery.”

  “I know an architect who could help you figure some things out. If you need,” Calliope added, thinking of Xander. “Not that you do.”

  Kendall shrugged again. “Couldn’t hurt. I want to do the job right. Whatever that takes. Watch your step. Some of these stairs need sanding down. And the railing’s a bit iffy. Let’s head up.”

  Calliope followed Kendall up and around, and up and around. Just when her head started to spin, a grimy glass door awaited them.

  “I’ve already removed the railing. So not sure if you want—”

  “Oh, I want,” Calliope whispered and pulled open the door. The wind hit her square in the face. She took only one step forward and kept one hand firmly against the lighthouse wall.

  Kendall followed her but ap
peared to have no qualms about walking the edge of the terrace hundreds of feet above the ground. “I’m hoping to go authentic to the time it was built.”

  “If you know Willa at the Flutterby, I believe her grandfather worked here once upon a time.” Calliope’s stomach pitched as Kendall’s boot landed centimeters from the edge. “It might be worth checking with her to see if she or her mother has any of that documentation.”

  “Good idea, thanks.” Kendall reached up to tighten her long, brown ponytail. “It’s funny. I’ve been kind of waiting for this place to tell me what it needs. What it wants. I bet you’re the only person in this town I can say that to and you won’t think something’s wrong with me.”

  “Oh, there might be a few others,” Calliope said. It was cold up here, as if the sun had forgotten how to shine. The wind whipped against her face, caught the thin fabric of her dress, but she continued around until she reached the perfect spot.

  Here. Oh, here. Calliope pressed her hand against her pounding heart. The ocean expanded into its own world far into the distance. The spray cascaded up, tiny droplets of briny, sun-kissed water dotting her face. If she just stared straight ahead, everything on the periphery vanished. And all she saw was unending, peaceful, perfect ocean.

  “Doesn’t get much better than this, does it?” Kendall stood on the edge of the platform, no doubt unaware of how nervous her balancing act made Calliope. “Almost makes you forget there’s anything else but this.”

  “You’ve seen a lot, haven’t you?” Calliope asked as she shivered against the cold and tried to forget how high up they were. “You’ve been to a lot of places.”

  “More than I can count. I went where the army sent me.” She brushed a hand over the scars that covered her shoulders and neck, and inched up the left side of her face. “It’s nice to have the perspective, you know? As vast as this ocean is, that’s as vast as the desert over there is. Opposite sides of the same coin. It’s quiet there. When there aren’t bombs going off or gunfire exploding.” She forced a smile as if worried that she’d made Calliope uncomfortable. “Or the screaming. The anger. I got so tired of the anger.”

  “I would imagine so.”

  “This is louder. The ocean. The waves. I can’t explain it, but somehow it drowns the other out. At least in my mind.”

  “My grandmother used to say the ocean was the earth’s natural remedy. It can heal just about anything that’s causing us pain.”

  “Hmm.” Kendall flinched. “Just about.” She shoved her hands into her back pockets and rose up on her toes. Calliope grabbed for her arm.

  “It’s fine. I’m fine.” Kendall didn’t twist free. “Just seeing how far you’d let me sway before you stopped fighting your worry. People always worry about me,” she added when Calliope eased her hold. “Matt, now Lori. You.” Kendall’s smile was sad. “I don’t want that, you know. I’m okay. I’m surviving. Day by day.”

  “I worry about everyone,” Calliope confessed. “And I will admit to an ulterior motive to coming here today.”

  “I figured. Come on. You’re turning blue.” She turned and waited for Calliope to go first. Once they were back in the service room, she closed the door. “Did Matt send you?”

  “No. No one sent me. Truthfully,” Calliope added when Kendall didn’t look convinced. “I know that Holly had invited you to their home the other day and you declined.”

  “I’m...pretty messed up.” She shook her head. “Good days and bad. Sunday was a bad one. Not a good time for me to be around people, you know?”

  “No. But I can try to understand. I thought maybe you needed to be aware that we do all care. I care. And if you ever need someone to listen, or vent to or deliver food, all you have to do is call.”

  Kendall ducked her head and let out what sounded like a snort. “Hmm, that would be a problem. I don’t have a phone. Eventually there will be a landline, but I’m not in any rush on that.”

  “Oh. No cell reception here?”

  “Wouldn’t know.” Kendall shrugged. “I don’t actually own one.”

  Calliope followed as Kendall began the winding walk down. Well that was...odd. Even Calliope, who wasn’t a fan of technology, had one. If for no other reason than for emergencies. “I don’t know that I’ve met many people without a cell. What happens if you get in trouble? Or hurt? What you’re doing out here isn’t exactly safe.”

  “It’s a lot safer than what I used to do. And I’ve already had the lecture from Matt.”

  “I don’t lecture,” Calliope said as she trailed after her. “But I will give you fair warning, especially since the holidays are upon us. I won’t be your last visitor. Christmas is a time for family, and whether you like it or not, you stepped into one when you decided to stay.”

  Kendall’s sigh sounded heavy. “Can’t I just be the cranky old aunt no one wants to be around?”

  “Certainly, you can.” They returned to the keeper’s house that somehow felt even emptier than it had earlier. “But that doesn’t mean people will leave the cranky aunt alone. While I understand the appeal of isolating yourself, doing so only worries the people who care about you, like Lori and Matt.”

  “They don’t need me disturbing their newlywed euphoria.”

  “Believe me, nothing is getting in the way of that,” Calliope laughed. “Will we see you at the bonfire on Friday?”

  “Ah, no.” Kendall hugged her arms tight around her torso and flinched. “I’m not big on bonfires.”

  “On that I won’t even try to change your mind.” Sensing she’d reached Kendall’s interaction limit for the day, she motioned to the table. “You can drop the basket off at the farm when you head into town. And I’d be happy to refill it for you if you need. I always have more than sells. Free delivery.”

  “I’m not a charity case.” Kendall’s eyes went sharp.

  “No, you’re not.” Calliope reached over, took Kendall’s hand in hers and gave it a quick squeeze. “You’re a friend.”

  * * *

  “HOW WOULD YOU like cooking lessons from a celebrity chef?” Xander asked Alethea as he slid into the seat across from her at the diner. He’d forgotten how intoxicating the aromas of this place could be: hot oil, fresh baked pastry and coffee he swore was ground and brewed by angels. It was later than he liked for lunch, but he’d been right.

  Once Alethea had started an exploration of Main Street and all the things this little town had to offer, he couldn’t stop her. Her smile had begun upon his announcement that he was able to extend his reservation at the Flutterby and had only increased as they clocked in endless miles walking around town.

  Alethea glanced around the Butterfly Diner with something akin to wonder. “I didn’t know places like this still existed.” She grabbed the menu and started scanning the gazillion items featured. “They have patty melts. Who makes those now? And ‘ha ha’ on the cooking lessons. If you’re trying to worm your way out of letting me cook—”

  “Hey, Xander.” Jason Corwin stopped at their table on his way to the register. “You’re starting to look like a Butterfly Harbor native. You must be Alethea.”

  “Uh-huh.” Alethea’s mouth dropped open. “You’re—you’re Jason Corwin. The Jason Corwin. Like with the...and the...” She gaped at Xander. “You mean lessons with him?” She pointed at Jason, who chuckled and folded her hand into his for a quick greeting. “Oh, wow.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, too. Xander tells me you’re interested in cooking. I’ve got some free time later this afternoon. My fiancée and her friends have dress fittings at the inn so I’ve been relegated to the kitchen. I could use some help with dinner if you’re up for it? Then we can go from there.”

  “I...uh-huh. Yeah, that would be great. Thank you.” She still clasped his hand and continued to shake it. Xander reached up to pry her fingers free.

  “Don’t hurt the chef, Al.”


  Alethea nodded. “Oh, sure. Right. Wow. That’s really great of you. Thank you!”

  “My pleasure. How’s four o’clock?”

  “Perfect. I’ll be there.”

  “Excellent. See you then. Oh, Xander. We’ve got a poker game going tonight if you’re interested. Nothing fancy. Just at the sheriff’s station. Six o’clock.”

  “I’ll keep it in mind.” Now that he was staying a bit longer, he didn’t have to be in panic mode where the design was concerned. He had time. Didn’t he?

  “I didn’t know you know Jason Corwin,” Alethea whispered across the table when Jason went to pay his bill. “I mean, I’d heard he moved out to California, but here? This is so not New York or Chicago.”

  “Part of the reason he likes it, I think.” And why it was growing on Xander. “We can postpone our trip to the farm. So you’re good with me asking him to do this? I didn’t want to overstep, but I thought maybe you’d enjoy it after what you told me earlier.”

  “No, it’s great. Thank you. I can’t seem to stop saying that, can I?” She pressed her hands flat against her pink cheeks. “Wait. Jason Corwin, an award-winning chef, eats here? In a diner? How is that even...” She trailed off as Paige swooped in, order pad in hand.

  “You’ll find out after one meal,” Paige announced, looking anything but offended. “Xander, nice to see you again. And this would be?”

  “My sister, Alethea,” Xander told her and swore he saw relief cross her face. He frowned. Why relief? “She decided to join me on this trip.”

  “Welcome to Butterfly Harbor, Alethea,” Paige said. “And if you’re wondering, Jason’s a fan of the patty melt, too. Ursula works magic on grilled onions.”

  Magic. Xander found himself grinning. He couldn’t get away from thoughts of magic, butterflies and, thus, Calliope even if he wanted to. And he didn’t want to.