Chapter Fifteen

Sara

After dessert, Sara watched her parents dance to Blue Christmas. They gave the appearance of being the perfect couple, or more like the perfect team. Once this song was over, Ferrin should ask her to dance. And she was dreading that, which made her feel mean.

Lavinnea and Byron were such a good match. He looked at her with respect and possibly affection. Who wouldn’t love Lavinnea? And she seemed to enjoy his company. Not for the first time, she wondered why the universe had stuck her with someone who was so difficult. Was she supposed to learn some lesson from this?

The dance ended and Ferrin stood. Rather than asking her to dance, he said, “Time to pretend we’re enjoying ourselves.”

Was that a jab at her because she told him to fake civility or was he trying to get under her skin? Rather than let him know it bothered her, she said, “Are you asking me to dance?”

“Yes.” Ferrin headed for the dance floor and she wanted to stay in her seat or possibly chuck her water goblet at the back of his head. Instead, she plastered on a smile and followed him to the dance floor.

The musicians broke into an orchestral version of Dashing Through the Snow. Ferrin took her left hand in his and put his other one on her waist. She placed her other hand on his shoulder. As the music played, they moved around the dance floor. Both of them had been taught to dance when they were children, so that wasn’t the difficult part. The hard part was figuring out where she should look. She stared at a point above his shoulder rather than looking him in the eyes. If he minded, he didn’t mention it.

A small part of her hoped she’d feel some sense of connection or warmth with Ferrin, but there was nothing. More than that, there was a coldness that seemed to radiate from him. Was he even capable of having warm feelings for her or for anyone?

When the song ended, he pulled his hand away from her waist and dropped her other hand like he couldn’t wait to stop touching her. It’s not like she wanted to touch him, but his reaction was strange.

“I don’t feel much like dancing,” was all he said before he walked off and left her on the dance floor. Okay then. She headed for the women’s restroom and spent time fixing her hair while she mentally ranted about what a moron he was. Once she felt capable of speaking without griping about Ferrin, she headed back to the table where her mother was holding court with her friends on the Women’s League. Thankfully, her seat was still open, so she sat and sipped her water.

“Shouldn’t you be dancing?” one of her mother’s friends asked.

“Ferrin isn’t much for dancing,” Sara said.

The woman’s lips pressed into a thin line, like she wanted to comment but refrained.

Her own mother rarely danced after the first dance, so Sara didn’t feel like she had to dance. If Ferrin had wanted to continue, she would have. At this point, she was glad he didn’t. Her mind went back to the first time Ian had touched her; the hug had been innocent, but the kindness he’d exuded and the warmth he’d made her feel had been real. Ferrin left her cold. She stood. “Excuse me.”

She didn’t know where she was going, but she needed to get away. What she really wanted was to talk to Ian. Her chest ached at the thought. If she spoke to him, she’d want to see him, and that was impossible. Could it hurt to call him? The operator at Sinclair Estates would have to place the call and she could listen in on the line, so calling from here would be impossible. Maybe she could go into Dragon’s Bluff tomorrow on some errand and call him from one of the store’s phones. Even if they were monitored, no one would know who had placed the call. Maybe the nice jeweler would let her use his phone, or the hostess at Suzette’s. Her fantasy phone call quickly unraveled as she realized how bizarre the request would sound. Maybe she could claim to be calling about a last-minute gift. The call would have to be short.

With all her heart she wanted to call him, but she knew it was wrong. There was no hope for them. Rather than hanging out in the ballroom, she went toward the kitchen.

One of the cooks stopped her. “Miss Sinclair, can I help you?”

Time to come up with a plausible lie. “I was hoping to find more cake.”

“How many slices would you like?”

“Two, please.” That would make it look like she wasn’t hiding out on her own. The cook would think she was sneaking cake for herself and someone else.

The woman returned with two pieces of cake on one plate with two forks. “Here you go.”

“Thank you.” Sara headed back toward the ball but veered off toward one of the patios where guests wouldn’t venture. She sat on a bench and worked her way through the two pieces of cake. The cherry-infused chocolate cake soothed her soul.

When she finished, she wasn’t sure what to do with the plate. Rather than carry it back into the kitchen, she walked the length of the patio and entered into a side room where her mother sometimes had tea. She set the plate and the dual forks on the table where someone could find them. Now she had a choice. She could go back to the ball or she could go up to her rooms and hope no one missed her. But her parents would be furious if she skipped out on the ball they were hosting, so she made her way back. Nothing much had changed since she left. Half of the couples were dancing. Her mother was still chatting with her friends. She spotted Ferrin sitting with his family. Should she approach them and try to play nice? Not with the way Ferrin’s father behaved. Instead she searched for Lavinnea and spotted her and Byron talking with some of the students from their dorm.

She approached at an angle where Lavinnea would notice her.

“Sara, come join us. We’re talking about Christmas presents.”

Holy hell. She still had to exchange gifts with Ferrin. That would be fun. She joined her dorm mates and said, “What are you hoping to receive?”

The girls talked about jewelry, and the boys talked about cars.

“And what about you?” Lavinnea asked.

The only thing she wanted was Ian. And that was the only thing she couldn’t have. She made something up. “I’d love a necklace to match my snowflake bracelet.” She held out her hand so they could see the bracelet.

“Do you think Ferrin will give that to you?” a girl asked.

“My father gave me this, so I think he would be the one to give me the necklace. I have no idea what Ferrin might give me.”

“Where is he?” one of the boys asked.

“He’s visiting with his parents. I think his mother is rather shy.” She tried to make it sound like Ferrin was doing something kind.

Someone else picked up the conversation and she did her best to smile and nod. When the orchestra stopped playing, she, along with everyone else, turned and headed back to their tables.

Her parents returned to the table, along with Lavinnea and Byron.

“Where’s Ferrin?” her father asked.

“I believe he’s visiting his mother.” Best to stick to the story she’d already told.

“I guess he’ll meet us in the ballroom.” Her father stood and headed up to the stage. He grabbed the microphone and said. “If you’ll join us in the small ballroom next door, your family’s tree should match your table number.”

They all shuffled out in an orderly manner. Sara followed her parents into the ballroom next door. Over a hundred fresh cut Christmas trees were stationed throughout the room. Each tree identical to its neighbor, except for a small ornament bearing a table number. The gifts the guests brought for the exchange would have been placed under the appropriate tree. Sara’s family’s tree was always number one. Per custom, her mother gave her father the first gift. He opened up a box of cigars and smiled. “Thank you.”

Her mom unwrapped a blue velvet jewelry box and popped it open to reveal a sapphire and diamond bracelet. It was beautiful, and her mother smiled like she loved it. Around them other guests were opening their gifts, and shouts of excitement could be heard along with happy chatter. Her dad passed Sara a silver jeweler’s box. Inside she found a snowflake necklace that matched her bracelet. “Thank you. I was just telling Lavinnea I’d love to have the matching necklace.”

“And a young woman shouldn’t have to wear the same necklace all of the time,” her father said, like he was in on the joke about Ferrin’s horrid necklace.

She grinned. “I completely agree.”

“Where is Ferrin?” her mother asked.

“Should I go look for him?” Sara wasn’t sure of protocol in this weird situation.

“Absolutely not,” her mother said. “If he doesn’t come to join us, that will reflect on his upbringing, not yours.”

“Here he comes,” her father said.

Sara turned around, wary of how Ferrin might behave. His expression was blank as he handed her a gift box and said, “Merry Christmas.”

“Thank you.” She opened it and found a boxed set of books. She’d never heard of the author, but the art on the box featured wizards, knights, and elves.

“You spend so much time at the library, I thought it might be nice if you had a set of books in your room.”

She was oddly touched. “You don’t like fiction.”

“But you do,” he said.

He’d actually thought about what to get her. “I love it.”

“I’m glad. There should be one more item in the box.”

She looked and found a filigree platinum bookmark that featured a single sapphire on the top. “Oh, this is beautiful.”

He seemed pleased.

“Let me get your gift.” She started for the tree.

“Allow me.” He retrieved the box wrapped in gold paper and untaped the seams. He pulled out a black leather book bag. At first he looked confused but then he saw the designer’s name embossed on the strap. “It’s an Elliot?”

“One-of-a-kind special order,” she told him. “It seemed like something a Westgate should have.”

“Thank you.” He smiled for real.

Relief flowed over her. It would be wonderful to end this night on a high note.

“Sara, we need to thank our guests for coming,” her mom said.

“Right.” Sara smiled at Ferrin. “Mrs. Silvertrap wouldn’t approve if I didn’t speak to our guests as they were leaving.”

“True.”

“Excuse us,” her mom said and Sara followed her parents to the doorway. As guests left, they thanked them for coming. Almost everyone had a smile on their face. Ferrin’s family was the last to leave.

“What a lovely evening,” Mrs. Westgate said.

“So glad you enjoyed yourself,” her mother responded.

Mr. Westgate shook her parents’ hands but said nothing.

“Thank you for an interesting evening,” Ferrin said, which made Sara laugh.

“Your new bag is something a future Speaker for the Directorate might carry,” her dad said, as he shook Ferrin’s hand and clapped him on the shoulder.

Ferrin appeared to grow a foot taller confidence-wise. “Thank you, sir.”

After he left, Sara looked at her father. “That was a wonderful compliment you gave him.”

“He is a driven young man. I believe he has what it takes to become the Speaker, with your help, of course.”

With the evening officially over, Sara went to her rooms and set the books Ferrin had given her on her dresser along with the bookmark. Maybe there was more to him than she’d imagined. His father was probably to blame for his bad social skills. If she could help him in that area, maybe they’d have a chance at a decent relationship.

It was ironic that he’d given her books, because she spent so much time at the library. Since things with Ian were over, she wouldn’t be going there because she didn’t want to risk running into him. What was he doing tonight? Probably eating in a cozy dining room with his family. Her chest ached as she pictured him laughing and making jokes and genuinely enjoying his life. She wished him well, but it was time to move on with her own life. She grabbed the book she’d hidden the polaroid pictures in and walked into her closet. She pushed aside the clothes so she could open the door and crawl through to the steps that led to the small attic.

The last time she’d been up here was before school started. Dust had reclaimed its natural territory. She sat on the cushion where she normally read books and pulled out the photo of herself and Ian. Seeing his face and the look of love it contained broke her dam of self-control. Tears welled up and she didn’t try to stop them. This was it. This was the end of her and Ian. She’d leave his photo, his memory, and the diary where she wrote about him here in her secret room. Hiding them away like the treasures they were.

…

Ian

By the time Ian woke up Christmas morning, his father had eaten half of the Christmas stollen.

“You snooze, you lose,” his father said as he cut off another slice.

“Don’t panic,” his mom said. “There’s another one in the oven.”

Ian grabbed the knife and cut what was left of the stollen in half. He took a bite of the apple cinnamon pastry and sighed. “Home is where food is the best.”

His mom beamed. She prided herself on her cooking.

“It’s a little sad that you’re not running to the Christmas tree anymore.” The oven timer beeped and his mom checked on the stollen.

“Won’t be long until we have grandkids,” his dad said.

Ian shuddered. “Wrong. That is a long time from now.”

“Just you wait,” his dad said. “One day you’re boxing in the ring and the next day you’re running to the store for diapers.”

“Stop scaring the boy,” his mom said as she set the stollen on the table. “He has a lot of living to do before he has kids.”

But he would have kids with Amelia. If he and Sara had made it work he wouldn’t be able to. He didn’t want to rush being a dad, but it was on his list of things to do one day.

After breakfast, they opened presents—clothes for him and his dad and a new handbag and flowery smelling shampoo and conditioner for his mom. It was a relaxed day. Just the kind of day he liked. Family, food, and fun. The fun being more board games.

When the phone rang that afternoon, he was surprised to hear Amelia’s voice. “Merry Christmas,” he told her.

“Merry Christmas to you, too, Ian.”

“What’s up?”

“My mother suggested loudly and several times that I should call you so we could make plans.”

He laughed. “Yeah, my mom has been singing the same song. Listen, if you want to go grab lunch some time while we’re home for Christmas break that would be great. If you want to hang with your friends, I’m good with that, too.”

She sighed. “Once we’re at the Institute, I know it will be you and me, but for now we can be just friends…right?”

Crap. Did she think he expected some sort of boyfriend/girlfriend relationship? “Hey, we’re friends no matter what. I don’t expect anything else until it’s something we both want. No pressure. I mean it.”

“Good…and thanks.”

He hung up and both of his parents looked at him like he was nuts. “What?”

“You should iron out your situation before she comes to school,” his mom said.

“Isn’t that what I just did?” Why were they freaking out about this?

“Maybe she wanted you to ask her to be your girlfriend,” his dad said.

“No. She didn’t. Relax. I swear one day you’ll have grandkids. Don’t try to rush it.”

Ian went back to his room and called Greg. “Want to go grab some pizza at Fonzoli’s tomorrow?”

“Sure. Are your parents treating you like you’re ten?” he asked. “Because mine have lost their minds.”

“Mine are talking about grandkids,” Ian said.

“Dude, that’s worse. I’ll meet you tomorrow at noon.”

Ian lay on his bed and stared at the ceiling. This whole thing with Amelia was awkward. She was like a kid, or even worse, a little sister. When they were older, things would probably fall into place. Good to know she was on the same page. He didn’t need any emotional complications right now. His heart felt mangled from Sara. He closed his eyes and remembered how it felt to hold her. Every cell in his body screamed that she was the one…the only one he’d ever want. Maybe that’s why he didn’t feel anything for Amelia. No. That was ridiculous. He needed to get out of his head, so he changed into track pants and a sweatshirt and put on some tennis shoes.

“I’m going for a run,” he told his mom as he headed out the front door, down the sidewalk to the street, and broke into a jog. Once he was warmed up, he increased his pace. The houses blurred together, not that he needed to see them. Every house was a variation of his parents’ home. Three-bedroom ranch houses with single car garages were the norm. Then there were the two-stories with carports. A few houses had two-car garages. All of the Reds who lived in this town were pretty much in the same income bracket.

He’d never been to any of the other Clan’s neighborhoods. Were their houses the same? The Blues weren’t. His house would probably fit in one of Sara’s ballrooms. She’d probably take one look at his house and laugh. No. That wasn’t true. Ferrin would laugh. Sara wouldn’t comment.

Damn it. This run was supposed to take his mind off her. He focused on the rhythm of his feet hitting the pavement. This was his neighborhood. Amelia lived a block away. After they graduated and were married, they’d probably buy a house near here. He could open up a gym two blocks over and probably walk to work every day. It was like his life was some sort of script he had to follow. Why couldn’t he make his own choices? Why did his parents and the Directorate have the final say on who he’d spend the rest of his life with? Why was he the only one who seemed to mind? Was everyone else happy or did they accept it as inevitable?

Maybe he should focus on what he could control. He could box, lift weights, and run. He could spend time with his family. He could hang out with his friends. There was no reason not to enjoy his life. He could choose to be happy or he could choose to spend time thinking about something that could never be. He and Sara couldn’t be together. It wasn’t safe. No matter how much he wanted to see her, talk to her, touch her, he wouldn’t put her life in danger. He wouldn’t set her up for a Directorate-sanctioned accident. He loved her too much for that.

Damn it. I still love her.

He needed to figure how to make those feelings go away, because there was no place for her in his life. And it was a good life. He needed to remember that and appreciate what he had.

Ian waited for Greg outside Fonzoli’s, watching the after-holiday sale shoppers rushing from store to store, looking for bargains. He was early because he couldn’t deal with his parents going on about Amelia for another minute. They needed to back off and mind their own business.

Greg showed up fifteen minutes later, exactly on time, and paused when he saw Ian. “Did Santa bring you a new coat?”

“Yes.”

“Very nice.” Greg held out his wrist and pointed at his new silver and gold two-tone watch. “Check out what he left under my tree.”

“Impressive.”

They waited in line at the hostess station. The savory scent of garlic drifted through the air, making Ian’s mouth water. Fonzoli’s was packed.

“Looks like everyone needed a break from family togetherness,” said Greg.

Ian didn’t like to say anything negative about his parents. “I needed a break from all the talk about grandkids.”

“You and Amelia okay?” Greg asked.

“Yeah.” Greg didn’t interact much with his intended, Erin. “You and Erin still living separate lives until college?”

Greg nodded. “Yes. Best decision we could come up with to keep our parents off our backs.”

They made it up to the hostess station and she smiled at them. “Just the two of you?”

Ian nodded.

“Come with me.” She led them to a table by the front window.

Greg balked. “Do you have a table where we won’t feel like we’re sitting in a fish bowl?”

“If you want to wait for another table to open up, I can give this one to the group behind you.”

“This is fine.” Ian sat down.

Greg joined him and waved off the menus the hostess tried to hand him. “We know what we want.”

The waiter stopped by their table with a pitcher of water and two glasses. “Are you ready to order?” he asked.

“I’ll have two pepperoni calzones,” Ian said.

“Large Hawaiian pizza with extra pineapple.”

Ian cringed. “That’s so wrong.”

“Uh-oh,” Greg pointed out the window. “There’s your jousting buddy.”

“What?” Ian scanned the sidewalk across the street and saw Ferrin. He wasn’t alone. Sara was next to him. His heart thudded in his chest. Instinct almost had him running out the door to meet her, but he kept his cool and watched them walk away.

“Tell me about Amelia,” Greg said.

Right. Amelia. The girl who didn’t make his heart pound out of his chest. “Not much to say. She’s cute and funny and neither of us are looking for any type of relationship right now.”

“I hear you. Erin and I spent Christmas Eve talking and laughing but neither of us is ready to become a thing yet.”

“Why not?” Erin and Greg had known each other forever and they were the same age.

Greg played with the condensation on his water glass. “You don’t get it because Amelia isn’t at school, but once you become a couple, that’s it. You can’t decide it’s too soon and you should wait until you graduate. Once you cross that line and do things as a couple, you’re stuck.”

He didn’t get it. “You guys like each other, right?”

Greg nodded. “She’s one of the coolest girls I know. We have a great time together, but I want it to be our choice when we get together. Not because the Directorate tells us to. My older brother started dating his intended right away, and by college they were barely speaking. They worked things out once they graduated, but it was too much pressure.”

The waiter came back with their pizza and calzones. They dug in and for a while conversation stopped. Once they finished and it was time to pay the bill, Ian had an idea. It was a stupid idea and he shouldn’t do it.

“Can I have a pizza delivered to a friend’s house?” he asked.

“Sure,” the waiter said. “I need the order, the name, and the time you want it delivered.”