The Christmas Promise

by Janice Carter

  Ben gave an embarrassed laugh. “I do have another stop to make on my way home. I’ll let you know my thoughts as soon as I get your info. Maybe by Monday?”

  “Sure.” As Ben got up to leave, Harold added, “Say hi to your folks for me. Especially Charles. How’s the old man holding up? Chomping at the bit to get back here?”

  Ben’s face twisted into a smile that didn’t fool Harold.

  “Hang in there, Ben. Sooner or later he’ll get the message.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Don’t get discouraged.” Harold’s eyes fixed on Ben’s. “Want me to mention something? I can be diplomatic as all heck when I need to be.”

  “I appreciate the offer, Harold, but I should be the one to talk to him. You have enough on your plate, and besides, no point in ruining a good friendship.”

  Harold’s bark of a laugh filled the room. “Oh, your dad and I have jousted in many verbal tournaments over the years, Ben. We’re still speaking to each other, even if we’re not always on the same page.”

  If only Ben had a similar relationship with his father. But then, sons and fathers were a different combo altogether. “I’ll set up a meeting with you after I’ve had a chance to go over the information you’re sending.”

  Harold’s expression sobered. “Do that, Ben. We have enough money troubles as it is. Lost or missing invoices and payments that don’t match shipments are the last thing we need right now.”

  Ben thought of Glen hunched at his desk first thing this morning. Something was clearly on the man’s mind besides a newborn. He said goodbye and, while he waited for the elevator, texted Ella to say he was on his way.

  As soon as he saw her tall, slender form standing outside the mall’s main entrance with two shopping bags clutched in her hands, all thoughts of the company and this new problem vanished.

  She stowed her bags in the back of the car and climbed into the passenger seat. “That was fast!”

  Ben’s heart was full at the pleasure in her face. “Successful expedition?”

  “Very.”

  Her blue eyes stayed on his, and she beamed a smile Ben remembered from years ago. This is the grown-up Ella Jacobs I’ve been waiting to see. He wanted nothing more in the whole world than to draw her close and kiss those cherry-red lips. They stared at one another, their breathing the only sounds in the car. Ben sensed that if he reached for her, she wouldn’t resist. Then another driver honked from behind.

  “Guess we should get going,” Ben muttered as he shifted into Drive. He’d just turned onto the highway when she spoke.

  “How was your visit?”

  Small talk? Ben guessed it was better than acknowledging what they’d both been feeling seconds ago, and he felt a pang of sadness at the gulf between them. One that he wondered if even a kiss could span. But the day wasn’t over yet, and better still, Ella was staying.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  ELLA STARED AT the purchases scattered across her bed. The boots weren’t pretty, but they were appropriate for a Maine winter, and while she might never wear the pale blue hoodie again, she figured it was a good fit for the Cove. The shopping plus the room fee for her extra nights in town were adding up, and Ella questioned her impulse to stay longer.

  Who am I kidding? Money has nothing to do with what I’m feeling right now. She’d seen the kiss in Ben’s eyes—the intent and, most of all, the desire. Every cell in her body had frozen, waiting for him to lean across the car console and carry through with it. What had really shaken her as they drove away was the letdown when he hadn’t. She’d wanted that kiss as much as he had, to find out if the magic of her sixteenth summer was possible again. Was that really the reason, she asked herself, for all the back-and-forth debate about returning to Boston or staying longer in the Cove? Maybe she was kidding herself, too, in thinking she was waiting for an explanation about his behavior back then, when in reality, she simply wanted to be with him. To soak up his big, strong presence and dark eyes that conveyed such a blend of tenderness and passion. She only had to close her eyes to transport herself back to that summer and the shivery warmth of his arms around her. She bit down on her lip, letting the quick stab of pain distract her from troubling thoughts that she knew could lead nowhere.

  By the time they reached the Welcome to Lighthouse Cove sign, reason had intervened. She couldn’t risk giving in to long-forgotten feelings when in less than forty-eight hours she’d be gone for good. As he dropped her off at the hotel, his expression was wistful, and Ella was tempted to kiss him on the cheek as a thank-you—a gesture a friend might make. But she didn’t. Kisses would definitely sabotage her plans.

  “Meet you in the lobby about six?” he asked as she opened the car door.

  “Sure. And, Ben, thanks for taking the time today.”

  He nodded thoughtfully. “I’d make time for you—”

  “Anytime?” she quipped.

  “Anytime, anywhere,” he murmured.

  Flustered by his intense gaze, Ella stammered, “Um, okay, then. See you in an hour.” She closed the door and watched as his car turned onto Main Street. Then she headed into the hotel.

  An hour later she’d showered and changed into jeans and her new hoodie. He’d suggested having dinner at a new place near Town Square. Nothing fancy, he’d added, which Ella interpreted as a hint not to dress up. That suited her because a quick peek out her hotel room window revealed it was snowing again.

  Her new boots clomped across the lobby’s marble floor. She was adjusting the hood of her sweatshirt over her jacket collar when she spotted Ben talking to a woman in the center of the lobby. He noticed Ella, and the expression on his face made her pause. At the same time, the woman craned her neck around and Ella realized she was the same woman who’d been entering the hotel that morning. Ella’s jaw clenched when she read her ID badge. Suzanna Winters. Brandon’s sister.

  Suzanna had just completed her freshman year at college and had been away from the Cove the summer Brandon drowned. Ella had met her only a few times during her vacations and remembered her as an aloof, older teen who hung with a different crowd.

  Ben cleared his throat as Ella drew up. “Do you remember my cousin Suzanna? I was just telling her you were back in town for a few days.”

  Ella made a show of trying to remember though she knew she wasn’t fooling the other woman. “I think so. You were usually with the older kids.”

  Suzanna gave a curt nod. Her gaze never wavered from Ella’s face, and for a horrible moment, Ella wondered if she knew the whole story. Grace had told Ben and likely her parents, but surely Suzanna and the rest of the family also knew the truth about the prank.

  “Are you enjoying your stay at the hotel?” she asked.

  Not much of a greeting, Ella was thinking, but she said, “Yes, and it’s wonderful to be back in the Cove.”

  After a long minute’s appraisal, Suzanna said, “Good. Well, I’ll leave you two to your dinner.”

  Ella watched her stride away. “Does she know what really happened that summer?”

  Ben’s face was sober. “Yes, but I think she’s still trying to understand. Zanna’s always been hard to figure out.”

  “How long has your family known?”

  “Since July.”

  “I guess she’s still processing all of it, which I can understand, but still... Now she knows the truth.” She took a deep breath, about to go on when she noticed the flicker of unhappiness in Ben’s face. She didn’t want to ruin one of her two remaining evenings in the Cove. “Shall we go?” she asked, managing a faint smile as she pushed open the hotel door.

  Outside, the night sparkled. Strings of lights swayed gently along Main Street, splashing color onto the black water of the harbor. Rows of shops, houses and cottages glowing with Christmas displays arced east toward the lighthouse, though the tip of the rocky peninsula was dark and unwelcoming. Ella shiver
ed and flipped her sweatshirt hood up. The chill caught her breath.

  “Cold?”

  “Yes, but it’s also very beautiful.” Ella shoved her hands into her gloves and tucked them under her arms to speed up their warming.

  “A different kind of beauty from summer.” He stared up at the starlit sky.

  “I remember sitting on the porch of our cottage with my dad, trying to pick out the constellations we could see on clear nights.” The memory pulled at Ella and she suddenly teared up, remembering all she’d lost. She felt his eyes on her but couldn’t risk looking his way.

  “You must miss him.”

  “I do.” When the moment passed, she announced, “I’m famished. Where are we eating tonight? And by the way, it’s my treat.” She descended the few steps to the sidewalk and looked back at him. “Come on!”

  * * *

  BEN TRIED TO focus his attention on the menu, but his eyes kept flicking to Ella. As soon as they’d walked into the new Italian place on a side street off Town Square, he’d felt his tension ease. The roaring fire at the end of the room and the intimate arrangement of tables welcomed them, and Ben smiled. The best part was that the proximity to other diners precluded private or intimate conversation. Here, the talk had to be superficial. He was relieved at that.

  Ella raised her head from reading the menu. “I love places like this. A bit retro and charming.”

  “As long as the food is good.”

  “It doesn’t even have to be. Just being here on a cold winter’s night with a fire blazing and the aroma of sauces bubbling is enough.”

  “It does smell amazing in here. I don’t see the kitchen, though.”

  “Maybe they’re bringing the food in. You know, from the owner’s mother’s house down the street.”

  “I like that image. Here’s to the food surviving the trek from Mama’s place tonight.” He lifted his water glass in a mock toast. Her giggle prompted a memory. “Remember when we met at that new pizza place near the harbor and some kids were passing by, so we sank down in the banquette seats because we didn’t want them to see us?”

  Her face clouded suddenly and she peered at the menu again. He wanted to kick himself for spoiling the laugh they’d just shared, but then she looked up.

  “You have a good memory, Ben.”

  Maybe too good, he thought. The woman across from him bore little resemblance to the giggling teenager lying on the seat of that pizza place. They’d thought they were pulling something off on the other kids by hiding their rapidly growing mutual attraction—the heady rush of adolescent hormones that had governed their lives that summer. He remembered the thrill of their fantasies about a possible life together beyond the Cove. But the joke had been on them. Fate had decreed otherwise, writing another future for them.

  The server came to get their drinks order and, after he’d uncorked the bottle of wine Ben had chosen, left to fetch their shared appetizer.

  Ella raised her wineglass. “Here’s to old times anyway. They weren’t all bad.”

  Ben clinked his glass against hers. “Cheers, and let’s think about the good ones tonight.”

  She bit down on her lower lip. Ben wondered if unhappy memories were always at the forefront of her mind. Her face was flushed, either from the fire’s glow or his remark, and he noticed her hand tremble as she set her wineglass down. If she were staying in town longer and if he thought they had a real chance at exploring some of those memories—good and bad—and laying them to rest where memories belonged, Ben would take her back to his new bungalow near the beach after dinner and talk. Bare his soul. If only I had the courage to do just that.

  Their orders began to arrive—the burrata with crostini, her sweet potato gnocchi and his seafood linguini—and the tense moment gave way to small talk and the pleasures of eating good food.

  “My mother and I took a trip to Venice the spring after my divorce. I needed to get away from Boston, and she’d always wanted to go to Italy. This food is as delicious as any we had there.”

  What she said was loaded with potential conversation starters—or enders. Ben opted for the one least likely to affect the mood. “How did you like Venice?”

  “Beautiful city, way too many tourists. So many crowds that we jostled against one another crossing narrow canal bridges. But of course, we were two more, so I guess I can’t be too judgmental.” She paused. “Have you done any traveling outside the States?”

  “Not yet. Maybe someday.” Their eyes met, and Ben wondered if she was having the same thought as he was now about their many plans to explore the world together. He was beginning to wonder if time spent with Ella Jacobs was ever going to be without these memory bursts. They were in a kind of limbo—no going back and no way ahead. But there’s still tonight and tomorrow, he told himself. That would have to do.

  Ella broke the spell, pushing her empty plate aside and groaning. “So many carbs—”

  “And so much pleasure.”

  “Especially on a freezing wintry night.”

  “Maybe a walk around the square? Burn off some of that?”

  “I’d like that.”

  “Dessert?”

  “No way,” she groaned.

  He scanned the room and managed to catch the server’s eye.

  “My treat,” she reminded him as the server approached.

  They were on their way out the door when another couple entered. Ben was holding the door for Ella and wasn’t paying attention to them.

  “Ben!”

  He turned sharply. “Hi, Julie.”

  His sister’s friend gave him a clumsy hug as the four of them stood in the tiny entryway. The icy blast from outside was a good excuse to keep moving, but for some reason, Julie stalled. She introduced her date while staring the whole time at Ella.

  “Ella, this is Julie Parker, an old school friend of Grace’s, and this is Ella Jacobs.” Ben noticed Julie’s frown. “Ella used to spend her summers here.”

  “So I heard.” Her eyes skimmed across Ella before aiming a smile back at him. “Is the food here as good as people say?”

  “It is.”

  “Great,” she enthused. “See ya, Ben.”

  He placed his hand on Ella’s back to usher her onto the sidewalk, where she suddenly rounded on him. “Wow! If looks could kill.”

  Ben suspected Grace hadn’t revealed her story to Julie and tried to dismiss her rudeness. “She’s a bit of an airhead.”

  “I thought people in small towns were supposed to be welcoming and friendly.”

  “People are the same everywhere, Ella. You know that.”

  “Yeah, you’re right. But twice in one night?” She gave him a long, appraising look and began to walk.

  Ben caught up to her and grasped her hand. “The night is still ours, Ella. Don’t let anyone take it away.”

  “It’s just that people here don’t want me to forget.” Her blue eyes glistened under the streetlight.

  Ben tugged her closer. He wanted to kiss her trembling lips and tell her everything would be okay. But they had a long way to go before a kiss could make unhappiness disappear.

  He squeezed her hand. “Come on. The night is still ours, right?”

  She squeezed back. “To the square?”

  “You bet.” He looped his arm through hers and they strode along Main Street, up Porter, past Grace’s bookstore, all in darkness. The music from the oompah band at the square reached them first, then the smoky fragrance of roasted chestnuts from a cart at the eastern corner of the plaza. People drifted around the perimeter of the skating rink, watching the skaters, munching on street snacks or just strolling while the cheesy tunes from the band filled the night. A large portable spotlight had been set up, its beacon aimed at the massive Christmas tree, which a handful of people on ladders were still decorating.

  “What time is the of
ficial ceremony tomorrow?”

  The interest in her voice gave Ben new hope for the next day. “I’m not sure. After dark, obviously. I’ll call you when I find out.”

  Suddenly she was pulling him toward the rink. “Let’s skate.” She was pointing to the small skate-rental booth.

  Ben closed his eyes. Not a good idea. But how could he dampen the first signs of pure pleasure he’d seen in her? All too quickly they were sitting on a side bench and lacing up skates—something Ben hadn’t put on his feet since he was a kid, and even then, he’d only done so reluctantly. He’d never been into winter sports. Baseball and track had been his preferences in high school and college.

  Ella grinned as he struggled with the laces. “See you out there.” She glided a few feet away, drew a tight circle and disappeared into the crowd. Ben sighed and resumed lacing up. By the time he got onto the ice, Ella was still nowhere in sight. He slid one foot ahead and then the other, keeping within arm’s reach of the waist-high snow fence surrounding the rink. It wouldn’t support him if he slipped, but at least he wouldn’t topple onto the other skaters. He was jostled as a young boy about eleven or twelve whizzed past him. He must have heard wrong but thought the kid had said, “Sorry, Gramps.”

  Gramps? He’d almost completed half a lap around when someone breezed up to him and tucked an arm around his—the arm windmilling at his side while the other extended to the fence, just in case.

  “You made it!”

  Ben risked a quick glance. “Made a fool of myself is more like it.”

  “I take it skating isn’t on your list of favorite winter sports.”

  “Nothing about sports is on my list of winter favorites.” They’d reached the benches where people were putting on or taking off skates.

  “Funny, I never knew that about you.”

  “And I never knew you were some kind of Olympic figure skater.”