Holiday Kisses

by Anna J. Stewart

  “Except now I have to tell my family I’m dropping out of college and not going to law school so I can be a cook.” Alethea winced. “Compared to everyone else it just sounds so...ordinary.”

  “There is nothing ordinary about following your dreams, wherever they may take you. But it takes courage to do so.” Courage Calliope knew she didn’t possess. Courage she needed to find. And fast. “Just as it will take courage to tell your family. You do not want to look back on your life and have regrets, Alethea. Don’t be one of those people. Talk to Xander. He’ll understand.”

  “I’m not so sure.” Alethea drank more of her tea.

  This time the doubt and trepidation she saw on Alethea’s face had nothing to do with grief and everything to do with the fear of disappointing a sibling she loved and admired.

  “Take it a step at a time. Go home with Xander for Christmas. See your family. Talk with them. Tell them what you’ve told me. If they’re worried about where you will live, you’re welcome to stay with me and Stella until you find a place. We have a spare room available.” And now Calliope had an excuse to bring her grandmother’s old room back to life. “But know that you are the only one you will ever have to answer to. Living your life according to other people’s expectations will never give you what you need. More importantly, it may prevent you from ever getting what you want.”

  * * *

  XANDER STOOD ON the front porch of the guest cabin and stretched, trying to remember what his spine felt like. He’d lost track of time, and now, as the sun began to set on Friday—what had happened to Thursday?—he could finally breathe again.

  He’d done it. It was perfect—well, as perfect as it was going to get as far as practicality went. The question was, would the mayor like it?

  No, Xander corrected himself with something that sounded like a laugh. Would Calliope like it?

  Xander shook his head. When had the sanctuary design become all about impressing Calliope? Fulfilling her wishes and ideas. But as he’d sketched and measured, and filled out the details, he’d kept asking himself what Calliope would think, what she would say.

  How it would make her feel?

  The second the questions came to mind, he caught the flickering of light beyond the gate. Her butterfly. Her messenger. He smiled. No. More than one. Five, six...he lost count. She was on her way. To him.

  As it was an unseasonably warm day, he hurried inside and flung open the windows, scrambled to clean up and take a quick shower, change and wash off the unending hours of eye-burning determination. He hadn’t slept in he didn’t know how long and yet he felt invigorated. He felt alive. As alive as he did whenever he kissed Calliope Jones.

  By the time he returned to the porch, she was walking through the gate, the familiar sound of her thin-soled sandals echoing against the paving stones. Her dress was one of phoenix colors—orange, red and a brilliant fuchsia. Colors that melded and complemented her hair, which once again tinkled with the tiny bells she’d threaded into her braids.

  He’d never seen a more beautiful or welcome sight in his life.

  She stopped when she saw him, as if surprised to find him there. “Hello.”

  “Let me guess. Alethea sent you.”

  “She might have stopped by to voice some concerns.” She slowed in her approach, peering around him inside the cottage. “You seem...okay.”

  “More than.” He felt like a kid on Christmas morning. “I did it. Well, I think I did it. The idea, it just came to me in this flash, like my brain just exploded and...”

  She kissed him.

  Xander gasped and smiled against her lips as he held her and did what he’d been wanting to do since that day at the inn. “Is that your way of telling me to shut up?” he murmured against her mouth as he took inordinate pride in the glazed look in her eyes.

  “That’s my way of telling you to show me.” She kissed him again, briefly, then pressed her fingers to his lips. “Show me.”

  Never had two words exhilarated and terrified him more. He slipped his hand into hers, drew her inside the cottage and let her take the final steps to the table on her own. He stood back, at the window, as he listened to her riffle through the diagrams and sketches, wondering if her sharp intakes of breath were of approval or horror.

  “Xander.”

  He closed his eyes. And smiled. Every doubt, every question in his mind went silent. “You like them.”

  “How could I not? It’s exquisite. What made you think to build the sanctuary and education center around and through the trees?”

  “Poker chips.” He grinned and joined her at the table. “Long story. But I couldn’t get what you said out of my mind. That we couldn’t destroy part of the habitat that they need to survive. So we survey, and we find the best way to cut around them and build around the places that the butterflies have already claimed as their own.”

  “It’s going to cost,” Calliope said. “It won’t be cheap.”

  “And that will no doubt be the deciding factor now that Gil is accepting other bids on the project.”

  “He’s what?” Calliope’s face clouded. “Since when?”

  Xander was too hyped up to worry about it. “I think he was just trying to make sure I was still interested. And I’m sorry, but yes, we will have to cut some of those trees down, but I’ll recommend a survey first, have an arborist come in and evaluate. We can recycle whatever we remove and use them in the structure itself. The flooring, the framework. Benches for an observation area. Sky’s the limit. We can literally make the sanctuary out of the butterflies’ natural habitat.”

  She hugged his drawings against her chest and turned glistening, tear-filled eyes to him. “And here I was convinced you were the wrong man for the job.” She laughed through the tears that sparkled in her eyes. “I’ve never been so happy to be wrong.”

  “If I’ve earned the committee’s approval, all that’s left is to present it to Gil.”

  “Oh, you’ve earned it. I’m tempted to say let’s get this to his office right now, but he’s gone out of town on an emergency. The second he’s back, we hit him up. And leave all those other architects in the dust.”

  “Why, Calliope Jones.” He plucked the papers out of her arms and hauled her against him. “That sounds rather competitive of you.” He kissed her quick to soften the accusation. “You’re not suggesting...”

  “I’m doing more than suggesting. I’m saying it outright.” She held onto him and looked into his eyes. “In the immortal words of Charlie Bradley, you’re going to kick their butts. Now, how about we go to the bonfire tonight to celebrate?”

  * * *

  THE CROWD CHEERED as another cord of wood was thrown onto the burning pyre. Blue tipped flames exploded up, sending sparks of excitement and the promise of the season into the chilly night air. Xander had to admit, it was a pretty spectacular way to officially ring in the Christmas season.

  Careful not to spill either cup of hot chocolate he’d obtained from the self-service set up near the stairs, Xander navigated through the sand back to Calliope. The treat was free, but for anyone wanting to show their gratitude, a collection jar was already filled to brimming and designated for the teen youth center expansion. In the spirit of the season, Xander had done his part and offered a smile to Kyle Winters who was overseeing the fund-raising.

  For the past few hours they’d watched Luke and his deputies manage the setup, eating turkey sandwiches, nibbling on offerings from Calliope’s garden, and drinking homemade apple cider that had a bit of a kick. Stella had disappeared almost the moment they arrived, running and playing with Charlie, Marlie, Simon and a lot of other kids he didn’t recognize.

  He spotted Paige and her deputy husband Fletcher laughing and enjoying the fire with Lori and Matt Knight. Luke, still on duty as Sheriff, had bundled up his pregnant wife Holly to the point she looked like a giant pink marshmallow. Jaso
n Corwin was cuddling with Abby a bit away from the rest and Xander felt his cheeks warm when he caught sight of them kissing.

  The Cocoon Club, the ever-growing group of town seniors, had lined up beach chairs along the sidewalk to watch the festivities from above. It was as if all of Butterfly Harbor had opened their doors and spilled out under the moon and onto the fire lit beach.

  But it was the sound of his sister’s caught-on-the-wind laughter as she chatted with new friends Willa and Ozzy that filled his heart with the most joy. He lost count of the faces and voices who smiled and toasted him as he passed while the faint sound of “Jingle Bells” being sung added yet another layer of holiday cheer.

  He hadn’t thought anything could compete with the ski trip and gingerbread-building competitive holidays with his family, but listening to the cheers and amusement echoing up and down the beach as the residents of Butterfly Harbor reveled, he had to admit, this was pretty darned perfect.

  But it wasn’t home, he had to remind himself. No matter how tempting, no matter how magical, real life continued to call in the back of his mind, reminding him he couldn’t allow himself to lose sight completely. But tonight wasn’t made for thinking or worrying. Tonight was all about being alone with the only person he was interested in. Tonight was all about Calliope.

  Even before he sat back down he could see Calliope rubbing her arms as she shivered. “We can move closer.” He offered her one of the cups, looked over his shoulder for a free space by the bonfire.

  “No.” She beamed up at him, her smile as warm as the cocoa in his cup. “I like it here. It’s a bit quieter. I like to hear the waves.”

  “In that case.” He set his own cup down and retrieved the quilt she’d brought from home. He dropped down, not beside her, but behind her and drew her back against him. He wrapped the quilt around them and counted himself lucky when she didn’t resist, and instead, snuggled into him. Oh, yeah. Definitely a perfect evening.

  The wind trapped a tendril of her hair and he caught it, tucked it securely behind her ear before pressing his lips to the soft skin of her neck.

  She shivered, lifted her shoulders even as he felt her skin warm. “Xander,” she murmured, and lifted a hand to his head. “I’m glad you came with us.” She drew the blanket tighter around them and snuck her hand beneath the edge to lift her cup to her mouth. “This is one of my favorite times of year.” She took a deep breath, let it out as he tightened his arms around her waist. “Every moment is ripe with possibility.”

  Xander rested his chin on the top of her head, listening for the waves crashing beneath the continued good cheer of the town.

  “Thank you for having shared it with me.” He hadn’t meant it, but the words felt a bit like a goodbye.

  She turned her head, looked over her shoulder and found him watching her. There was such affection in her eyes, he felt the walls he’d built up around his heart crumble. She didn’t say another word, simply curled into him more securely. But he knew she was thinking the same thing he was.

  He couldn’t stay.

  No matter how much he might want to.

  * * *

  “CALLIOPE?”

  “Yes, poppet.” Calliope glanced over as Stella came inside from the garden. She was muddied from head to toe, her hair a tangle of curls, but her cheeks were pink from the crisp December air and the promise of the holiday market a few hours away. “You and the girls finished practicing your sandcastles?”

  “Yes. Calliope, what’s happening with Mama?” She walked over to where Calliope was wrapping Abby and Jason’s wedding gift, a handmade dream catcher threaded with dried lavender and thyme.

  Calliope needed the boost, the distraction, from the growing unease that a new bank of storm clouds were on the horizon, none of which had to do with Alethea or anyone else’s heartbreak other than her own. Her time with Xander, the happiest days of her life, was coming to an end.

  She’d felt it the other night at the bonfire. Could feel it as easily now as she felt the sunshine on her face or the wind against her skin. “What do you mean about Mama, Stella?”

  “I saw the papers by the computer. Is this because of me? Did I make Mama sicker?”

  “What?” Calliope had never imagined Stella could think such a thing. “Oh, my beautiful girl, of course not. Come here.”

  She turned on the bench and held out her arms. Stella came over and sat on her lap, not fitting as well as she used to.

  “Goodness, you’re getting so big.” She tucked Stella into her arms and stroked her hair. “I want you to listen to me, Stella, because you need to believe this. I will never, ever lie to you. Ever. What’s happening with Mama has nothing to do with you. Her illness has gotten to the point where we can’t manage it anymore. Hildy and Mama’s doctor both agreed she needs to be someplace special. But Stella...” Calliope swallowed hard. “We won’t have her much longer. Her mind is shutting down. She’s not really with us anymore. She hasn’t been for a very long time.” She pressed a kiss to Stella’s temple. “And it has absolutely nothing to do with you.”

  “It’s not because she hates me?”

  “She doesn’t hate you, poppet.” Calliope squeezed her eyes shut and struggled for the right words. “I don’t think she even knows who you are, what you are to her. Just as she doesn’t recognize me anymore. Whoever Mama was, she’s gone, Stella. And soon, her body will be, too.”

  “Are we going to go and say goodbye?”

  “Would you like to?” Calliope hadn’t been sure, not until now, if she should even give Stella the option.

  “I think maybe I would. I know she won’t know who I am, but I don’t want to regret not saying goodbye. Isn’t that what you’re always saying? Don’t live with regrets?”

  “It is what I say.” And yet Calliope had the feeling she’d be living with a lot of them. “If you want to go, I will find us a car and get us there. But it’s okay if you change your mind.”

  “I bet Xander would take us,” Stella said. “He likes us.”

  “He does, doesn’t he?” As evidenced by the unbridled attention he’d paid Calliope and Stella since his triumph over his stifled muse. He’d come to the farm yesterday to help with the market, fitting so perfectly into her world it had felt someone showing her what she could never have. “But remember what I told you, Stella. He won’t stay. He can’t. He has a life somewhere else.”

  Stella shrugged. “Maybe he’ll change his mind.”

  “Is that what you want? For Xander to stay?”

  “Yes. I like him. He almost feels like...” She ducked her head, as if worried about speaking her mind. “He almost feels like what I’ve imagined a dad would feel like. Does that make sense?”

  “It does.” Watching Xander with Stella the last few days, seeing the patience and enthusiasm he’d shown working with the girls on their sandcastles, had filled her heart with so much joy she feared it would burst. “But Xander’s life isn’t here in Butterfly Harbor. He has his family, his job, back in Chicago and New York.” She rocked her sister like she used to when she was an infant. “It wouldn’t be fair of us to ask him to give up all that just for us.”

  “I suppose not. But that doesn’t mean I can’t stop hoping.”

  “No,” Calliope agreed with a stiff smile. “No, it does not. Now, are we all settled on what’s bothering you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Then we need to get ready for those market vendors. Why don’t you head on out and open the gates? I bet people will start arriving to set up anytime.”

  “Okay.”

  Stella walked slowly to the door, as if her thoughts still weighed heavily on her. “I had the dream about the owls again.”

  “And?” Calliope prodded.

  Stella cringed. “I’m sorry. I was still scared.”

  “It’s okay, Stella. You want to know a secret? I’m scared
about some things, too. But we’re going to be okay. Because we have each other.”

  Stella nodded and left the house.

  Tears burned hot in Calliope’s eyes. She hadn’t thought there was room for more love than she had for her sister, but she was wrong. Xander Costas had taken up residence inside of her, heart, soul and spirit. And with every day that passed, she was that much closer to losing him.

  Hands trembling, insides shaken, she followed her sister outside, but instead of heading to the gate where early comers were arriving, she detoured back and around the far end of the property, over to the field of lavender and milkweed that bordered the thick grove of eucalyptus trees. In the stillness of the air she could hear the calming whispers of wings as the butterflies brushed against one another. She removed her sandals and sank her feet into the rich soil, clenching her toes as the dirt covered her skin.

  “Help me,” she whispered as she turned her face to the sun and held out her hands, palms up. “Help me survive this.”

  The butterflies in the trees, dozens of them, hundreds of them, took flight to encircle her. Some landed on her fingers, her arms, in her hair. She sank down, dropping to sit in the soil that had given her so much, finally lying down as her beloved butterflies continued to flit around her. She closed her eyes and waited. Listened.

  And as she shed a solitary tear, she accepted what was to come.

  * * *

  “OUR FLIGHT LEAVES at noon tomorrow,” Xander called as he headed from his room into Alethea’s. He’d promised to get to Calliope’s to help with the holiday market hours ago, but he’d gotten waylaid by an impulsive visit to Liberty Lighthouse. Before he knew it, he’d lost most of the afternoon talking with Kendall, sharing the information he’d received from his friends back east. The lighthouse, keeper house and guest cottage were ripe with possibilities. Kendall’s impressions had been correct: the lighthouse had excellent bones and a lot to build on for an authentic restoration. Too bad he wouldn’t be around to help.