A Baby For Christmas

by Layla Valentine

  I had to figure out why. I had to know why the happiest time of the year for me was making me feel worse than ever. And Shayla was the only clue I had.

  I stepped out onto the main office floor, saying my hellos to the employees. As melancholy as I felt, I did my best to put on a positive face for them. After all, they were the ones responsible for CooperWare’s best year yet, and they deserved the party and their bonuses.

  An hour later the party was in full swing, but I felt so drained that all I wanted to do was be alone. And I could sense that the staff knew there was something off about me, though no one said anything.

  It was soon time to do my Santa routine. I ducked into my office and put on the suit, the outfit feeling as heavy as a suit of armor.

  I took a deep breath in front of the office door, psyching myself up to be cheerful and jolly. I’d never before felt like Christmas was a burden, but here I was wanting it all to be over so I could be alone again.

  “Ho, ho, ho!” I exclaimed as I burst out of the office. “Merry Christmas!”

  Just saying the words was enough to sap the life out of me. The staff broke out into smiles as they saw me in my costume, the bag of gifts slung over my shoulder.

  I went through the room passing out presents and wishing good cheer, but as before I suspected they were acutely aware of how forced it all was.

  * * *

  The next morning, I awoke with purpose. Shayla appeared in my thoughts again, and I wanted more than anything to see her. Figuring I had nothing to lose, I headed out to her apartment in Bushwick.

  My stomach was tight during the trip over. There was a good chance I was making a huge mistake. That me trying to see her would result in nothing more than a door slammed in my face followed by a call from one of my lawyers letting me know that I was being slapped with a restraining order.

  But I had to try.

  I arrived at the modest brick walk-up where Shayla lived and took one more deep breath as I readied myself for whatever was about to happen.

  I hopped out of the car and entered the building, the front door propped open by a hunk of brick. Moments later I was in front of Shayla’s apartment, my stomach a tight bundle of nerves.

  “Here goes nothing,” I said under my breath as I raised my hand to knock.

  I knocked and waited. No one answered, and for a moment I worried that I’d wasted my time. Then, right as I was about to leave, the door opened.

  But it wasn’t Shayla on the other side—instead, a petite brunette who looked around college-age stood before me. She was dressed in her pajamas. The TV was on in the background, a guy about her age on the couch, his eyes locked onto me.

  “Hi,” I said. “Sorry to bother you. My name’s Colton Cooper, with CooperWare.”

  I handed over a business card from my wallet. I felt a little silly, but I wanted to put the girl’s mind at ease as quickly as I could. She looked over the card before turning her gaze back to me.

  “Are you…selling something?” she asked.

  “No,” I said. “I’m actually looking for Shayla Zielinski. I’m a friend of hers. Is she here?”

  The girl shook her head. “You must have the wrong place,” she said.

  The boy called out from the couch. “You cool, babe?”

  “Yeah,” she said. “It’s fine.”

  “You don’t know her, by any chance?” I asked.

  The girl shook her head again, and my heart sank.

  “Wait a minute,” she said. “Shayla…” She repeated the name as if trying to jog her memory. “Oh! I know why that name sounds familiar. She worked with my aunt at some graphics company. She was moving out of the city and said that I could take her apartment when I moved into town.”

  Energy rushed through me.

  “Do you know where she is now?” I asked.

  “Nope,” she said. “Sorry. All I know is that she moved out of the city.”

  I knew that I wasn’t going to be getting more information here. I thanked the girl and headed out.

  So, that was it. Shayla had moved out of town, and out of my life. Part of me wondered whether what had happened between us had factored into her decision to leave the city. But it didn’t matter, either way. She was gone, and that was that.

  An hour later I was back at my apartment, a glass of wine in hand as I watched a fire roar in the fireplace.

  Nothing had been resolved. I was just as despondent as before.

  Shayla had taken a piece of me, and I wondered if there was any way I’d ever get it back.

  Chapter 23

  Colton

  The wind was especially bracing as I walked through Central Park a few days later. The curving paths of the green space were dusted with frost, the sky above blue aside from a few wispy white clouds.

  Coming to the park during the days leading up to the holidays had always been one of my favorite Christmas traditions, ever since I was a little boy and my parents would bring me here to play in the snow.

  But today, on Christmas Eve of all days, I was alone. A chill wind cut through the air, and I pulled my navy pea coat tight against the cold.

  Nothing had changed since I’d gone to look for Shayla at her old apartment. Actually, that was wrong—my melancholy feelings were the same as they’d been all season, only now I couldn’t get Shayla out of my mind.

  It was as if floodgates had broken open as soon as I accepted that she was a big part of the reason why I was feeling this way. Now that I’d allowed her to be in my thoughts, I wouldn’t be able to get her out until I saw her again, until I had some kind of resolution.

  Everything reminded me of her. Every glass of wine I drank brought me back to the bottle we shared at her apartment last Christmas. Every time I heard a woman’s laughter, it reminded me of hers. And each little bunch of mistletoe that I saw hanging up around the city reminded me of the kiss we’d shared.

  I brushed some snow off a nearby bench and took a seat, draping my arm over the back of it. As I sat and watched the families at play and the couples walking arm in arm, my melancholy intensified. All I could think about was how much I wished that Shayla was sitting next to me, her head resting against my shoulder as we watched the world go by.

  It hit me—I had to see her. Purpose gripped me and, without even thinking about it, I shot up from the bench and started down the curving path that led out of the park. Minutes later, I was in my car and headed back to my penthouse.

  I had to see Shayla again. No matter what it took.

  Once back at my apartment, I slipped out of my scarf, coat and hat and sat down in front of my computer. I opened up my employee files and pulled open Shayla’s information. It was nothing I didn’t know already, but in looking it over, I hoped to find out something new, something that might give me a hint as to where she might’ve gone.

  But there was nothing. She had no family, so there wasn’t even anyone to call. I was totally without a clue of what to do next.

  I listened to the fire crackle in the fireplace, trying to figure out what to do next. After a time, I had the desire to listen to some Christmas music for the first time this season. I don’t know what inspired it—maybe my enthusiasm for seeing Shayla again was allowing some small bit of Christmas spirit to slip into my heart.

  I aimed the remote at the speakers and clicked them on, the song “Deck the Halls”, as sung by a ’50s crooner, filling the air. I let the music drift over me, a small smile spreading across my lips as I listened to the tune.

  Sure enough, the song picked up my spirit. I found myself singing along and tapping my foot to the rhythm.

  “Deck the halls with boughs of holly,” I sang out, my fingers snapping to the beat.

  As soon as the last word left my mouth, a thought hit me.

  Holly.

  I snatched up the remote and turned down the music. Why was that word sticking in my head?

  Then it hit me. I thought back to my Christmas with Shayla, and what she’d told me about her past.
She’d said that she had no happy memories of Christmas.

  None, that is, aside from that one winter on Holly Lake.

  I bounded over to my office desk and typed the words “Holly Lake” into the search engine, which pulled up a page containing the basic information on the place. It was a small town of a few thousand people just a couple hours upstate.

  I checked the time. It was a little after five. If I left now I could make it before it was too late in the evening.

  My heart pounded in my chest, and a sense of purpose like no other gripped me. I gathered my winter gear and threw them on as I headed out the door. Once I was back behind the wheel of my car, it took all the restraint I had not to tear down the streets on my way out of the city.

  The plan, if I could even call it that, was totally crazy—and I knew it. I had no reason to think that Shayla was at Holly Lake. Only a gut feeling pushed me in that direction. I found myself wondering if I was doing nothing more than clinging on to the tiniest lead I had, and I was setting myself up for disappointment.

  But I didn’t care. I had to see her again. I had to try.

  I drove through Manhattan and out onto the other side of the Lincoln Tunnel. Once on the highway, I gunned the engine, hoping to shave as many minutes as I could off the trip. Overhead the skies began to darken with fat, gray clouds.

  I was ready for whatever was ahead.

  Chapter 24

  Shayla

  Lucas was snuggled on my lap as we sat on the couch in the living room. The lights were low, and a fire crackled, filling the air with warmth.

  “Hey, buddy,” I said, bouncing the boy on my knee. “You ready to open some presents?”

  Before us on the coffee table was a small tree, decorated with a few ornaments that I’d bought at the discount store and half-heartedly thrown on the thin branches.

  I’d gone back and forth about whether or not to celebrate Christmas. If I’d been alone, it would’ve been easy decision. I’d have had a glass of wine and gone to bed early, treating it like any other night. But the adorable little baby on my lap complicated all of that.

  Even though I wasn’t at all the Christmas type, something felt wrong about denying Lucas his first Christmas. So, as a compromise, I took him to town to pick up a small tree and some decorations, and that was it.

  Okay, that wasn’t everything. I couldn’t resist also picking up a tiny Santa hat, which I put on his head as soon as we got home.

  Lucas giggled and cooed, his chubby hands reaching out to the presents I’d wrapped and placed under the tree. It was almost as if he knew what this holiday was all about, as silly as that sounds. I picked the smallest of the three and handed it to him.

  But before I helped him open it, I realized that I needed something in the air, some music. I flicked on the stereo and Christmas carols began playing, “Deck the Halls” coming through the speakers. My first instinct was to change the station, but instead I chose to let them play.

  Maybe there was a tiny shred of Christmas spirit in me after all.

  I helped Lucas with the presents, meaning that I opened them up while his chubby hands patted down here and there. I hadn’t gone crazy, only buying a few small toys, but it felt good to do something for my little guy. Just because I was a bit of a Grinch didn’t mean that he couldn’t have some fun.

  Once the presents were opened, I carried Lucas over to the fridge. I pulled out the pre-made Christmas dinner I’d bought from the diner downtown and stuck it in the oven. I fed Lucas his dinner, and by the time he was good and full, my dinner was ready.

  I watched the skies outside as I ate, noticing that the clouds were growing thicker and darker by the minute.

  By the time I was done and had finished my glass of wine, I began to feel restless—restless and nostalgic. I had the sudden urge to take Lucas and head down to the shores of the lake, back to the same places where I’d played with Jamie so long ago.

  I got myself bundled up and ready to go, then did the same for Lucas. Once he was ready, I strapped him into the stroller and headed out.

  A hard wind blasted me as soon as I shut the door, and for a moment I wondered if going out was a bad idea. The skies were still getting darker, and a few of the larger clouds looked heavy with snow. But as soon as the wind died down, I decided that a little stroll wouldn’t hurt. After all, the shore was right by the house.

  I pushed Lucas down to the lakefront, the water shimmering with ice and the trees that ringed it frosted with snow. The wind howled low but other than that, the scene was about as peaceful and serene as I could’ve hoped for.

  “You see that?” I asked Lucas. “That’s the lake your mommy grew up by. For a little while, anyway.”

  Lucas giggled and cooed in his stroller, his mittened hands reaching out toward the frozen lake.

  It was all just like I’d remembered it. In my mind I was right back to that winter with Jamie, the two of us building snow forts on the bank of the lake, nothing on our minds but the fun we were having. I remembered going back inside of the cabin covered in snow, my foster parents getting me out of my cold clothes and plopping me in front of the fire and putting a cup of hot cocoa in my hands.

  I wondered what it would be like to have a childhood filled with those memories, rather than simply having a handful of them. I squatted down by Lucas, taking in the sight of his cheeks red with cold, a happy smile on his face. I vowed that I’d give him the childhood he deserved, one that was filled with joy and happy memories. The one that I never had.

  And I’d do it even if he didn’t have a father around.

  I stood up and pushed Lucas along further, the two of us making our way along the edge of the lake. More and more memories flooded my mind, and I let myself become lost in them, like they were the sweetest, richest glass of wine in the world.

  Before I knew it, the two of us had walked all the way around to the other side of the lake. Overhead, the gray clouds had gotten even thicker. Any trace of the last bits of sunlight had been blotted out, leaving everything cast in an eerie shroud. The clouds looked about ready to release snow at any moment, and I knew I needed to hurry and get home before I got stuck in whatever was about to come down.

  “Okay, buddy,” I said to Lucas. “Time to go home.”

  The first few flakes of snow drifted down as we reached the halfway point back to the house. I pushed Lucas along faster, his coos carrying across the frozen span of the lake.

  Chapter 25

  Colton

  “It’s looking like the storm is heading into the metro region sooner than expected. And it looks to be a monster. Experts are advising New Yorkers to stay in their homes unless they absolutely have to. Stay tuned, and we’ll keep you posted on more details as they come in.”

  I flicked the weather station off, turning the radio back to some Christmas carols. I didn’t need anyone to tell me that the weather was bad. A quick glance at the clouds in the sky in front of me made that very, very clear.

  But I was getting close to Holly Lake. A quick check of my GPS showed that I was only ten minutes away.

  As I approached the town, I realized that I didn’t even have a plan. I had no idea if Shayla was here, and even if she was, how I would find her.

  It didn’t matter. I’d do whatever it took. I’d ask everyone who would speak to me, and if I found out she wasn’t here, I’d start from square one.

  During the drive, I’d considered the possibility that I was being crazy—that I ought to turn around and head back to the city. But actually, the opposite happened. With each passing mile I became more and more certain that I was doing the right thing.

  A sign indicated where to turn off, and after a little more driving, I arrived in the small downtown of Holly Lake. It was a charming little place that seemed almost out of another time. The main drag was lined by small businesses, and the few pedestrians out and about were bundled up in their winter gear.

  Once I was in the center of downtown, I pulled over and conside
red my next move. I didn’t know a soul here, and I knew that if I was going to staying for a while, I’d need to get a hotel. But that could all wait. Right now, I needed something to eat. I’d gotten so caught up in my trip that I hadn’t had a bite all day.

  I stopped in the small downtown diner, the place decked out in Christmas décor and carols on the jukebox. Only a smattering of other people were there. I ordered a cup of soup and some coffee as I planned what to do next.

  About halfway into my cup, an idea hit me—the lake.

  Shayla had told me about the memories she’d made with her foster family there, and it was as good of a place to start as any.

  I finished my meal and paid up, a new burst of energy running through me.

  Outside, the snow began to drift down from the heavy clouds above. My plan was to head to the lake and see what I could find. If I didn’t learn anything new, I’d get a room and spend my Christmas here in Holly Lake. Not the ideal plan, but at least the name was fitting.

  I asked the waitress for directions on the way out, and she drew me a quick map on a napkin. I wished her a merry Christmas before hurrying out the front door.

  The road to the lake winded through the woods, eventually leading me to a flat stretch of land. I found a small parking lot and got out. Glancing up above, I watched as the clouds roiled and churned—a storm was coming.

  A small walking path led me through the woods, which eventually cleared as I approached the lake.

  It was a huge body of water, big enough that I could hardly see around to the other side. Brown cabins surrounded the lake, smoke billowing up from most of their chimneys. I scanned the houses, wondering which one was the place where Shayla had spent those few happy winter months.

  A path led around the lake, and I began walking. It looked as though it’d take me an hour to walk around it, so I decided that was what I was going to do. I stuffed my gloved hands into the pockets of my coat after tightening my scarf and started off.