Vivi: The More, the Merrier Christmas Eve
DURING OUR MAYBE-SORT-OF DATE ON Starlite Island, I had been practically flying over the idea that the only reason Tyler hadn’t kissed me was because he had a girlfriend—who he had now broken up with. We had flirted and laughed and shared secrets all night long. And then we got in the boat and went home. No kiss. I had braved the freezing elements all while trying to be cute for nothing.
I had vowed that I would put him behind me. I’d go home, tell Lake I was ready to be his girlfriend, and forget Tyler had ever existed. As if that were even possible…
But now, my phone buzzed. Want to come hang out at the farm today? It was Tyler, of course, and all my resolve to stay away from him melted away.
I had to hold myself back from texting him immediately. Because, I mean, yes. I’d hang out with him at the farm. The street corner. A roadside rest stop. Wherever Tyler was, that’s where I wanted to be. Did I feel that same way about Lake? I didn’t think so. Had I ever?
I walked downstairs into the kitchen to distract myself. “Oh, good!” Gransley said. “You’re up. Can you help me set the table for Christmas Eve dinner?”
Oh God, oh God. That was a way longer task than I could possibly handle before texting Tyler back. But as I was still trying to get back in Gransley’s good graces because I ruined her trip, I would have said yes to anything she asked.
She handed me a stack of linen place mats. “Hey, Gransley,” I said, testing the waters. “Can Tyler come to Christmas Eve dinner?”
“Well, of course,” she said. “If it’s okay with Kimmy and his parents, the more, the merrier.” Then, pausing her silverware counting, she said, “You two are quite the little item, aren’t you?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe? I think we might just be friends.”
I could tell she was about to respond when Mom ran into the dining room. “Mom!” she said. “Leah just called, and there’s an emergency at the store!”
“What kind of emergency?” Gransley said.
Mom took the silverware from her hands and said, “I have no idea. But you need to go now!”
Gransley scampered out of the dining room, and as soon as the front door closed, Sloane, Adam, and Jack filed in from the back, loaded down with clothes. I studied the sweater draped over Sloane’s arm. They were definitely Gransley’s clothes.
“What is going on?” I asked.
“We’re finally putting the surprise for Gransley into motion!” Sloane said, her voice muffled by the towering stack of clothes she was carrying.
“What’s wrong at the store?” I asked Mom.
Mom shrugged. “Nothing. I just needed to get her out of here for a few hours. I asked AJ to trap a squirrel and set it free in there. I figured that would keep them occupied for a while.”
“Mom!” I protested.
“What?” She looked at me innocently. “It’s for the good of the cause.”
“Couldn’t you have just said there was a problem with a client or something?”
She appeared to think that over. “Yes. Maybe that would have been a better idea.” She waved her hand. “But I’m sure AJ didn’t actually trap a squirrel. Leah probably came up with a better plan.”
If I knew AJ, I was positive he had.
The clatter of footsteps down the stairs made me turn to see Grandjack. “Hey, Viv, do you want to talk real quick?”
“No, no, no,” Sloane said. “If you think you’re getting out of this, you are wrong, my friend. This was your idea.”
Jack laughed. “It will only take a minute. I promise.”
Good. Because I only had about a minute left of self-control to not text Tyler back. I looked back at Mom, and she shrugged. I followed Grandjack back into Gransley’s kitchen. He leaned on the counter, looking casual, so I hoisted myself up to sit on it.
“The Christmas surprises are ready,” he whispered.
Excitement rippled through me. Had I ever been this excited about a present that wasn’t for me? I couldn’t imagine that I had been. “Yay!” I whispered back.
“But, really,” he said, “I just wanted to apologize. I had no right to drop the big news that I was your biological grandfather.”
I shook my head, realizing that this was the window I’d been looking for, the one I’d been too, like, embarrassed or scared or something to find. “No, I want to apologize, Grandjack. I ruined your trip and put us all in danger. If it helps, I definitely learned my lesson.”
He smiled in that way that made me know I was forgiven and that, maybe even more important, he could never really be mad at me in the first place. “I really am glad you’re my grandfather,” I said quietly, meaning it. “I hope you know that.”
He crossed his arms and said, “Well, I’m really glad you’re my granddaughter, and I’m sorry I’m not better at all this stuff. I shouldn’t have told you like I did. It was wrong of me. We were just having a good time and I got excited and…”
He was so cute. “I promise it’s okay. I’m glad I know.”
I hopped down from the counter and hugged him tight. I looked up at him. “And I’ll be here to train you, so you don’t screw up with all your other grandkids.”
He laughed so hard as I pulled away.
“There’s only one of you, Vivian Beaumont.”
I smiled, pulling my phone out of my pocket, as he said, “I’m going to go get the rest of Gransley’s things.”
I nodded as I reread Tyler’s text: Want to come hang out at the farm today?
I finally texted him. I don’t know. What did you have in mind? Want me to help you clean the stables? I was joking, obviously.
I’m going to teach you how to drive.
Oh my gosh. That sounded even worse than the stable thing!
I walked back into the dining room, where Mom was still setting the table. “No!” I said out loud. “No, no, no.”
The front door opened, and a very familiar voice, one I really liked, rang out: “Viv!”
I crossed my arms. “I have no interest in learning how to drive.”
“Tyler’s taking you driving? That’s great—you should learn how to drive!” Mom said. “It will be good for you.”
Sloane came back into the dining room, holding a toy box. “If I remember correctly,” she said to Mom, “getting you to learn to drive at thirty-four basically took an act of God.”
Mom smiled. “And now I’m glad I know how. You were right. Is that what you wanted to hear? Are you happy?”
Sloane perked up. “Wow! That was more satisfying than I thought it was going to be. Yes. I am very, very happy, in fact.”
Tyler reached out and took the toy box from Sloane.
“Where do you want this?” he asked.
“In the smallest bedroom in the guesthouse.” She paused. “The blue one.”
“Hey,” Sloane said, looking at both of us, “if you guys could help for just a few minutes before you leave, it would be amazing. We’re trying to work fast over here.”
Old Vivi would have begged off, saying that between setting the table and learning to drive, she had enough on her plate. But new Vivi said, “Sure, Aunt Sloane!”
Old Vivi mouthed to mom, Community service.
You wish, she mouthed back.
Tyler walked out the back door with the toy box as Emerson emerged from upstairs, a duffel bag on each shoulder.
“You’re letting a sixteen-year-old boy teach your fifteen-year-old daughter to drive?” Emerson asked.
“I forget he’s only sixteen,” Mom said. “He just seems so…”
“Capable,” Sloane filled in.
“Strong,” I added.
“Mature,” Mom finished.
Emerson looked at each of us warily. “Okay. Well, if Tyler ever needs an official fan club, he’s all set.”
Tyler and I helped Sloane for a little bit and then got in Kimmy’s truck to head to the farm. “Oh, um, I asked Gransley if you could come to dinner tonight. I mean, if you don’t have plans with your family and you want to,” I rambled.
Tyler looked over at me and smiled. “Really?”
His question made me think it was too much, too soon. But then he said, “Yeah. That’d be really great.”
Then I was happy I’d asked.
As we reached the gate of Kimmy’s farm, Tyler put her old truck in park and jumped out. He tried to open my door, but I pushed down the lock really quickly. We both laughed.
“You’re being a brat!” he said, smiling. “It’s a life skill. You should thank me!”
“Thank you!” I said through the window.
Then I laughed and unlocked the door. Tyler opened it and took my hand to help me down. When he did it was like electricity zapped through our fingertips.
He kept holding my hand as we walked around to the driver’s side—and I loved every second, I might add. He finally let it go when he started showing me around the inside of the car. “This is the clutch and this is the gas. And that’s the brake, of course.” He stopped and looked at me. “Well, go on,” he said. “Get in.” I did, and, much to my surprise, he scooted up beside me, so close that I could smell the cookie he had just eaten at Gransley’s.
“This,” he said, taking my hand again, “is the gearshift.” With his hand over mine, he moved the clutch from neutral to first, second, third, and reverse. I doubted I would ever drive anyway, but I was totally positive I would never drive stick shift. But Tyler was so warm, and he smelled so good, that I didn’t want the lesson to end.
After I had stalled out about a hundred times in one of Kimmy’s huge, grassy fields and hit the fence twice, Tyler said, “You know what, Viv, you’re right. You don’t need to know how to drive. You’ll probably always have a driver. In fact, why don’t we go walk around downtown instead? Let’s practice our walking, since I think you’re going to be doing a lot of it.”
I was laughing so hard, I leaned over the steering wheel to catch my breath. And when I did, the most miraculous thing happened. I felt it. I felt it. The way the clutch lets out just right and you ease onto the gas really slowly. Not wanting to jinx myself, I sped up just a little, heading toward the barn, and held down the clutch again, letting it out to shift into second gear.
“It didn’t make that horrible noise!” I shouted.
I didn’t dare look at Tyler, and I could tell he was sitting really, really still. I made it from the outside fence all the way to the barn, where I pushed the clutch in again and put it in park.
I looked at Tyler, my mouth hanging open.
“It’s a Christmas miracle,” he whispered. “She drove. The city girl drove a farm truck four hundred yards.”
He opened the door and ran around to the side where he lifted me out of the truck and spun me around. This was it. The moment. The perfect moment. It was worth all the waiting, all the missed opportunities, because this was something I would always remember. He was still holding me in the air, and our eyes were locked, my heart was pounding… and I heard Kimmy’s voice—a voice I usually liked, I might add—yelling, “You did it, Vivi!”
I could have killed her. Tyler set me down, and I smiled disdainfully. He bit his lip and shook his head. “She’s a natural,” he said, never taking his eyes off me.
I was absolutely not a natural. I was not even in the same zip code as a natural. Kimmy walked over to us and handed me a basket of eggs. “Take these to your grandmother,” she said. “They’ll be good for that breakfast casserole she makes Christmas morning.”
“Sounds great,” I said.
“See you at Starlite, Star Bright!” she called as she walked away.
I gasped. I was so excited I’d learned to drive I’d almost forgotten all about my favorite part of Peachtree Bluff Christmas.
I looked down at my phone to check the time. “We need to line up for Starlite by five,” I said. I was going to add, I mean, if you want to go. But I didn’t. Because we were going. No way around it. I wasn’t missing it for anything.
“Right,” Tyler said. He pointed to the house. “Hey, mind if I shower and change really quickly and we’ll go now? We can be one of the first boats out.”
I grinned and nodded. I couldn’t think of anything I’d like quite so much. I texted Mom, Okay if I do Starlite with Tyler and we meet you at the house after?
I only assumed you were…
She loved picking on me about Tyler.
But thank you for telling me where you are.
Love you, I said back.
I did love her.
I also loved Peachtree Bluff at Christmas, but I had to say, Christmas had never felt this cold here. It wasn’t like I wasn’t used to the cold. But I wasn’t used to cold here. I shivered just a little as Tyler and I got out of the car at the town kayak storage. For Starlite, Star Bright, everyone brought his or her kayak, canoe, rowboat, dinghy, and engineless vessel of any kind and dropped it off here, at this tiny stretch of sandy beach on the waterfront, the morning of Christmas Eve. It was maybe one hundred paddle strokes from Starlite Island, so it made it the perfect place for people to stash their boats, and to share them with anyone who didn’t have one of their own.
A bevy of volunteers helped any and everyone who wanted to participate get in a vessel and paddle over to the island. There were ferry boats for people who couldn’t paddle themselves. But the key to the magic of Starlite, Star Bright was all those vessels in the water all at once and the silence of it all too.
We were only the third people in line, so Mrs. McClasky, bundled up in her parka, clipboard in hand and whistle around her neck, said, “All right, kids. Just the two of you?” She smiled knowingly and I gave her a disparaging stop it look as I nodded. I also wondered why exactly she felt like she needed a whistle… but I didn’t ask.
“Take your pick,” she said.
Tyler pointed excitedly. “Canoe?” he asked.
I nodded. I didn’t care if we floated over on an iceberg so long as I got to do it with Tyler. The advantage of the canoe over the kayak was that the teak boards that served as seats were situated so we could face each other as we paddled. Tyler helped me in and then, pushing the canoe out into the water, hopped in at the last possible second. He was just so… effortless. And he was, as some Murphy woman had said this morning, capable.
Hippie Hal, in his waders, came to the boat and handed us two candles with little cones around the bottom to keep our fingers from getting burnt as the wax dripped and a pack of matches that said, PEACHTREE PROVISIONS. PRESENTING SPONSOR OF STARLITE, STAR BRIGHT. How smart of Adam and Grandjack to advertise during Peachtree’s biggest event of the season.
“Don’t let ’em get wet, kids,” he said.
“Did you want to paddle?” Tyler asked, his face very serious.
I smirked. “Yeah, right.”
He laughed.
I sat facing Tyler as he paddled, watching the day merge with the night. He broke the rhythmic sound of his paddle cutting through the water as he said, “Can I tell you something?”
I nodded. We were so close together.
“I’m a little intimidated by you.”
“Because I’m such a good driver?”
He laughed. “Yeah.”
“I am so not intimidating.”
“You’re beautiful and smart and you go to this fancy school and live in this fancy house, and there’s Lake…”
“Come on, Tyler. I tried to lock Lake down for like a year. But when he asked me out, I turned him down.” When he didn’t say anything, I decided to take a chance, to really put myself out there. So I added, “Because of you. Not because of my community service.”
He smiled. “Really?”
“Really.” He seemed happy, I thought. Right? But he didn’t say anything else, so I wasn’t sure. As the setting sun blazed a hot orange in contrast to the cold day, I looked around. “Here,” I said. “I think this is the spot.”
“We can pull up on the beach if you want,” he said.
I shook my head. “This is better. You’ll see.”
The sun had almost completely set, and now, as boats were filing in all around us—but not too close—I knew we had to pay attention. We were right in the middle of the waterway, equidistant from downtown Peachtree and Starlite Island.
“Are you sure you don’t want to be on the beach?” Tyler asked. “So we can see?”
I shook my head. “I promise this is the spot, Tyler.”
A few minutes later, when the sun was all the way down, I struck a match, and, as I did, flames from neighboring boats flickered all around us, the dark sky and the pitch-black water erupting in the soft glow of candlelight. At that moment, someone began singing. There was an order to our caroling. Not too long because it was so cold. But we started with “We Wish You a Merry Christmas” and then continued with “Joy to the World” and “Jingle Bells.” Tyler and I laughed, singing together. I made fun of him when he forgot the words to “It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year,” but I stopped when he squeezed my knee during the line, “There’ll be much mistletoeing,” which made my heart race out of my chest. I wanted to say, Promise? but I kept my cool.
After “O Holy Night,” what seemed like much too soon later, the grand finale began. Silent night, holy night, all is calm, all is bright. There was a cadence to the caroling, a rhythm, where the bright and tinkling joy trailed off into an almost holy, serious quiet.
“Look around,” I whispered to Tyler, pausing my singing. Some people liked to be on Starlite Island to really get a view of these hundreds of vessels out on the water, to see the full effect of all the lights. But me? I liked to be in the dead center, so that everywhere I looked, everywhere I listened, all I could see was candlelight, and all I could hear was the singing voices of people who came together as one for this special night. You could not participate in Starlite, Star Bright and not feel changed afterward, like you were part of something that was bigger than yourself.
“This is the most magical experience of my life,” Tyler whispered. I nodded, singing again.
He handed me his lit candle and rubbed his hands up and down my arms to stave off the cold. “Have you ever had something that you wanted to be perfect? That you knew you would want to remember for the rest of your life?”
I nodded. And then he leaned closer to me. I could feel my heart thrumming in my chest. He was so warm. And he smelled so good.
It registered with me that the last line of the last verse of the song was being sung right now. And, despite the fact that I believed something I really wanted was about to happen, I, like everyone else on the water, blew out our candles, the waterway fading instantly into a great, deep, silent black.
I had been waiting for this moment for what felt like forever, and, as Tyler’s lips finally met mine, as he pulled me in close to him, I realized that it had been worth the wait. He had been worth the wait. When we finally pulled away, I looked up and gasped.
“No way,” Tyler said, looking up too.
“You wanted it to be memorable,” I said. “Snow in Peachtree Bluff? I think you accomplished that.”
A murmur made its way through the crowd as the people who had begun paddling back to shore started to realize what was happening. Tyler held his hand out, and snowflakes gathered in his bare palm. He touched one on the tip of my nose and kissed me again so sweetly I had to remind myself to breathe.
“A white Christmas,” I said. “Can you believe it?”
It was like all the hard stuff this year—my parents, getting in trouble, the hurricane—had just been swept away, that in a few hours they would be covered by a soft, cold blanket of white.
“Hey, Viv,” Tyler said, looking at me like I was the only person in Peachtree Bluff, “I know you turned down Lake, but how would you feel about being my girlfriend?”
I peered up at him as if I were considering this matter a great deal. “Was that true what you said? About doing my community service with me? Think seriously about your answer.”
He laughed. “For you, Vivian Beaumont, I would spend the year building Habitat houses and picking up garbage on the side of the highway.”
“Ew,” I said. “I was thinking about holding babies at the hospital and running bingo at the nursing home.” I leaned over and kissed him. “But, yes, Tyler. It would be an honor to be your girlfriend.”
As he kissed me again, “Out of the friend zone!” rang out beside us.
“Merry Christmas, Keith,” I called, not even turning around. Tyler waved at him.
Then he started paddling. In the snow. In Peachtree Bluff. On Christmas Eve. As the fireworks on the now-cleared-out Starlite Island began erupting, I knew for sure that, like Tyler had said, this was a moment I would remember. My mom, my aunts, and Gransley always said you’d never forget your first Peachtree Bluff summer love, that those days would stay with you for the rest of your life. As Tyler grinned at me, I knew that I would never forget these magical few weeks with him. Summer love was great. But I knew someday I’d look back on this winter love and smile. And I’d remember the warm glow of a white Christmas and, what’s more, the perfect hand to hold.