[Christmas Key 01.0] There's Always a Catch
Page 26
She stares at the words he’s written with a blue Sharpie pen. It makes her happy to think that just days before, he’d bent over this same envelope and carefully addressed it to her. She rips into the package, pulling out a folded note.
For you, Mayor. A small gift that I hope you will take with humor, and wear with love—now that you know we’re not really sworn enemies. —R.
She puts her hand into the envelope, already knowing what she’ll find. Sure enough, she slides a perfectly-worn Mets cap from the package. A goofy smile spreads across her face. Fastened to the bill of the hat with a paperclip is a picture of a younger River in the same cap, squinting into the sun in full uniform as he poses on a baseball field, ball in one hand, the other hand hidden inside a battered mitt.
Holly runs her fingers over the intertwined “NY” embroidered on its front. It’s a meaningful gift in so many ways. Obviously it’s something special to River, and his giving it to her symbolizes a letting go of the past—and shows her that he’s truly inviting her in. And her accepting it is a sign that she, too, is ready to say good-bye to some long-held truths, to finally embrace a future that isn’t rooted in the security she’s always believed that it would be. Holly puts her fist inside the hat, unfolding it so that it’s head-shaped.
With the Mets cap in one hand, she steps over Pucci again and grabs her oversized purse from the counter. She digs out her Yankees hat and holds them side-by-side. Past and future. Certainty and the unknown. Security and adventure. With a deep breath, she walks over to her bookshelf and stands before a framed photo of her grandparents. It was taken on the porch of the Jingle Bell Bistro. Behind them is the ocean, stretching out to meet the horizon. On either side of their smiling faces are the pillars of the building, wrapped from deck to roof in twinkling strands of holiday lights, even though the photo was taken one year in June, just after her grandma’s birthday. She stares at them, thinking of all that she knew and loved about them, and all that she thought she knew but really didn’t.
Looking at the hats in her hands one more time, she sets her Yankees cap on the shelf next to the photograph. She finds her own reflection in the glass of the picture frame as she set the Mets cap on her head, adjusting the brim so that it comes down just over her eyebrows. Her long, light brown hair spills over both shoulders.
Chris Martin wails in the background as Coldplay’s Parachutes spins over the laser in her CD player. She moves away from her reflection until her grandparents’ faces come back into focus, her own image a blur in the glass once again.
“Hey, Pooch—wanna go to the Ho Ho?” she calls. In an instant, Pucci is up on all four paws, ears at full attention. Holly slips her feet into a pair of flip-flops and runs a tube of Chapstick over her lips. “Let’s do this.”
She isn’t sure whether she and Jake will ever find a happy place where they can coexist on the island, and she has no idea whether the three thousand miles between them will snuff out the flame between her and River. She doesn’t know whether Wild Tropics will bring excitement and opportunity to Christmas Key, or the unflinching gaze of a faceless audience who might judge the island without ever setting foot there. The future itself is somewhat uncertain. Will all of her efforts to turn the island into a self-sustaining travel destination come to fruition, or will she just end up alienating everyone in the process? It feels kind of like going off the grid without a map, and for the first time in her life, that thought isn’t completely terrifying.
For now, she’s choosing adventure, she’s choosing possibility. For now, she’s choosing a shot of Joe’s Christmas Key rum and a night of live music with her neighbors, and she’ll worry about Cap if and when she sees him.
Holly pulls the brim of the hat down further on her brow, getting used to the feel of it. She whistles once for Pucci, but he’s already at her heels. In the darkness, she crunches over rocks and shells as she seeks the light of the moon. The sound of Coldplay fills the bright house behind her, and the creaking of the night creatures surrounds her as she makes her way to the bar.
About the Author
Stephanie Taylor is a high-school teacher who loves sushi, "The Golden Girls," Depeche Mode, orchids, and coffee. Together with her teenage daughter she writes the American Dream series—books for young girls about other young girls who move to America. On her own, Stephanie is the author of the Christmas Key books, a romantic comedy series about a fictional island off the coast of Florida.
For more information
@redbirdsrabbits
redbirdsrabbits
https://redbirdsandrabbits.com
redbirdsandrabbits@gmail.com
Also by Stephanie Taylor
Wild Tropics: Christmas Key Book Two
Jake’s Story: A Christmas Key Novella
The Edge of Paradise: Christmas Key Book 3