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BELINDA WAITED FOR the next three weeks to see if Charles would ask her out on a date.
He didn’t.
It was a little disappointing because every time they ran into each other naturally, he came over to talk with her, lingered in the conversation, and appeared to watch her admiringly. But he never asked her out. She wasn’t particularly surprised since that had been her experience with every other man she’d had interest in before.
And the truth was Belinda had a number of other things going on that distracted her from brooding too much about Charles.
For one thing, Ria and Jacob had their baby. The boy was more than a week late, and Ria’s labor was long and painful and stressful. But both Ria and little Luke were healthy and happy and back at home now just in time for Christmas.
The holidays were another thing dragging Belinda down. She tried to get into the spirit, decorating her house and even putting lights up outside, which she didn’t always do. She got a real Christmas tree instead of the small artificial one she usually used, and she baked cookies and wrapped presents and did her best to feel merry and bright.
She missed her parents though. Somehow more this year than usual. And Jacob and Ria were so busy and exhausted from the new baby that she couldn’t even spend as much time as usual with her sister. Everyone else had their own families and plans and activities.
Even Fitz had evidently forgotten she existed.
He hadn’t really spoken to her since the chili dinner at her place. She told herself it wasn’t personal, but it felt that way. She was so used to him always being around, making annoying comments and generally getting in her way. But he hadn’t done so for the past few weeks. Sometimes she’d see him in Anna’s or the flower shop, and he wouldn’t even glance her way.
It wasn’t as if she liked him. Or wanted him always invading her personal space.
Why did she miss him so much now that he’d backed off?
He must have seen something in her face that night when she’d had that bizarre and troubling desire to kiss him. He must have recognized it and was now trying to make sure it didn’t happen again.
He probably believed she was some sort of needy, pathetic object of pity—getting a ludicrous crush on an utterly unavailable man.
Belinda hated that thought—more than anything else—so she made sure to never initiate contact with him or even accidentally meet his eyes. He wasn’t going to think she was pining for him. Not if she had anything to say about it.
So all in all, Charles’s reluctance to ask her out was the least of her worries. She could think about him without wanting to curl up in a ball and cry.
On Christmas Eve, Belinda went to the service at the church her family had always attended. It was a lovely, quiet service with the candle lighting at the end. She sat next to Ria, Jacob, and chubby little Luke and enjoyed seeing her nephew, although Ria had to take him out twice when he started to cry.
Maybe because of that—or maybe because she’d be going home alone that evening—Belinda felt strangely isolated, even in a pew next to people she loved. Everyone else there was in large family groups—spouses, children, parents, cousins.
Everyone except Fitz. He was sitting alone in the back, which was where he always sat. He wore his Army jacket and hadn’t trimmed his hair or beard for the occasion, although it looked like he might have made some sort of effort to comb them down.
Belinda glanced back at him a couple of times during the service—despite her resolve not to give him any indication she cared about his comings and goings. Every time she looked, he seemed to know. He’d meet her eyes across the crowded sanctuary.
He saw her for the first time in weeks.
Ria and Jacob left a few minutes early because Luke started crying again. And when people started filing out of their seats, Belinda was so listless and lonely that she thought about going back to talk to Fitz. He was by himself tonight too. On Christmas Eve. He might appreciate someone saying hi to him even if it was only her.
But when she turned in his direction, she saw other people had had the same idea. Fitz was surrounded by others in the town, greeting him, wishing him a merry Christmas.
He didn’t need her. No one needed her. Charles and his sister weren’t even there tonight.
So Belinda just slipped out and went home.
She cried a little bit on the short drive back, but she pulled it together pretty quickly. She had nothing to feel sorry for herself about. She was cooking Christmas dinner tomorrow, and Ria, Jacob, and Luke were coming over so they wouldn’t have to worry about meal preparation in addition to their new baby. She wasn’t by herself for Christmas, and even if she were, it wasn’t the end of the world.
When she got home, it was just after eight. It was dark and wet and windy outside but not cold enough for snow. In an effort to feel better, she took a bath and got into her favorite soft fleece pajamas. Then she made hot chocolate, picked out the best of her Christmas cookies, and curled up on the couch to watch an old Christmas musical.
It was a perfectly nice evening. It didn’t matter if she was all by herself. For almost an hour, the only interruption was a brief texted conversation with Ria, who was worried about her being alone and wanted her to come over to hang out. Belinda refused. Ria and Jacob would want to spend their first Christmas Eve with their son on their own, and they didn’t need the hassle of company. So she insisted she was having a great time by herself until Ria seemed to believe her.
If her mother and father were still alive, Belinda could have spent the evening with them. They’d only been in their fifties when they died. They’d had decades longer they should have lived. So many more Christmases they’d been cheated out of.
Belinda was tearing up again, despite her attempts not to, when there was suddenly a knock on her door. Startled and flustered by the unexpected sound, Belinda jumped up and turned toward the front door.
Then she realized who it probably was.
With a groan, she swung open the door, saying as she did, “Ria, I told you I’m perfectly fine on my—” She broke off midsentence when she saw who was standing on her front porch.
Not Ria.
Not anyone she would have expected.
Fitz. With his jacket pulled tight and his hair and beard all in disarray from the howling wind.
Belinda stared, completely incapable of speaking.
“Hey, sorry to interrupt your Christmas,” he began as soon as she’d gotten the door open, his eyes giving her an automatic assessment from the messy bun on top of her head to her fuzzy slippers. “But did you know that—?” He stopped and frowned. “Have you been crying?”
“No!” She swiped a stray tear away since it was offering evidence to the contrary of her claim. “What on earth are you doing here?”
“Oh. Yeah. Sorry.” He was still peering at her face with disapproving concern, as if he had a problem with her current mood. “Did you know that you lost a tree branch out here? It took out part of the picket fence.”
“What?” Her droopiness completely forgotten, she hurried out to the porch steps to look. She whimpered as she saw one of the large branches from the big oak tree in the front yard had broken off and crashed down onto the low picket fence that lined the sidewalk. “Oh no! It wasn’t like that when I came home.”
“It must have just happened. Some of these gusts have been pretty strong. You want me to take care of it for you?” Fitz sounded laid-back. Matter-of-fact. It was strangely comforting. “I can haul off the branch and fix the fence.”
“That would be nice. Not tomorrow or anything. No need to mess with it on Christmas. But maybe a couple of days from now.”
“I can do it now. Won’t take long. I probably won’t be able to get the fence perfect, but I can rig something until I get all the materials.”
“Fitz, it’s Christmas Eve!” Belinda hugged her arms to her chest, suddenly conscious that she was wearing her soft red pajamas. They covered her as much as any clothes would have done, but she still felt very undressed.
“So what? I’ve got nothing else to do. No need to have this mess in your yard, bothering you all through Christmas.”
It would bother her. A lot. No matter how much she would have told herself not to worry about it. In fact, it would probably bug her to such an extent that she’d go out tomorrow morning and try to clean it up herself. She hated for anything in the house to be so completely out of order.
“Are you sure?” she asked, peering up at Fitz’s bland face. “You really don’t have to. I’m sure you’d rather... do something else.”
His blue eyes met hers without wavering. “Belinda, seriously. I’d rather do this for you than anything else I have available.”
She swallowed hard, strangely touched for no reason she could understand. She nodded and gave him a little smile. “Thank you.”
“No problem. Won’t take long. I’ll just use the tools in your shed if you don’t mind. Now go on in. You look like you’re about to freeze to death.”
She wasn’t really freezing, although the wind was chilly. She was mostly hugging her arms to her because she wasn’t wearing a bra and she was afraid Fitz might notice even beneath the thick material of her top.
She went inside but watched through the window as, for the next twenty minutes, Fitz removed the large branch. Cut it up into a neat pile in the corner of the yard. Then tacked up the broken piece of fence so that it stayed put. She’d need some new boards to replace a few broken ones, but Fitz’s improvisation would work fine for a week or so. She felt a lot better when he finished up, like her world wasn’t falling apart.
Fitz carried the tools around the house to the shed in the backyard and then came to her back door. Since she’d been watching him, she opened it before he had to knock.
“Thank you so much,” she told him, smiling with genuine affection. “It looks great. I really appreciate it.”
He smiled back at her, his eyes warm and watchful. “You’re welcome. I’ll come over the day after tomorrow with the stuff I need to fix it up right.”
“Here. I’ll give you some money so—”
“Oh no. Don’t you dare offer to pay me.”
“But you—”
“I did it because I wanted to. It wasn’t a job.”
There was no arguing with that look in his eyes. “Okay. Thank you. Can I at least give you some hot chocolate and cookies? Or I could make you something if you haven’t—”
“I ate something earlier, but I wouldn’t say no to hot chocolate and cookies.” He glanced behind her. “But I don’t want to interrupt your Christmas Eve.”
She snorted and stepped out of the way, feeling excited for the first time all week. “What exactly would you be interrupting? My time alone in front of the TV?”
His eyes widened as he let his jacket slide off his shoulders. He was wearing a worn pine-green sweater beneath it with his old gray pants. “Are you on your own tonight?”
“Of course I am. Ria and Jacob are with their new baby, and I don’t have any other family.” Belinda suddenly felt nervous in addition to the bubbling elation. Was she really alone with Fitz in her kitchen at almost ten o’clock at night? She distracted herself by stirring up the hot chocolate for him.
“I guess I thought you might be...” He trailed off, looking suddenly confused as he leaned against one of the counters. “Don’t you have something going with Charles Kensington?”
That surprised her enough to divert her from her nerves. “No! I don’t have something going with him. Why would you think that?”
“Wasn’t that what your whole makeover thing was for? Because you were into him?” His expression was strange. Like he was trying to act with his normal leisurely nonchalance, but real urgency was practically jumping out of his skin.
“I’m not into him,” she replied with a little sniff, stirring the hot chocolate more vigorously than was required. “I barely know him.”
“Aren’t you going out with him now?”
“No! Did someone say we were?”
“Nobody did. I just assumed... Did you change your mind about him?” His voice had grown almost thick.
It made Belinda want to shiver, so she resolutely avoided his gaze. “I haven’t changed my mind about anything. He seems like a perfectly nice guy. But I can hardly start dating someone who hasn’t even asked me out.”
“He hasn’t asked you out? Why not?”
The astonishment in his voice was strangely comforting. Belinda found enough courage to turn back around and meet his eyes. “I have no idea. I have to assume he’s not interested in me, so my whole makeover thing, as you so eloquently put it, was a total waste.”
“You never needed it, but if you liked how you looked, then why would it be a waste?”
Belinda thought about that. Then she gave a firm nod. “You’re right. It wasn’t a waste. I actually feel strange with a lot of makeup on and with some of the stylish clothes. But I guess it’s nice to feel a little bit pretty. Sometimes.” She lowered her eyes as she felt her cheeks warm.
“You’re a lot pretty,” he murmured, sticking his hands in his pockets with an odd, abrupt move. “All the time.”
She’d darted up a quick glance. Saw something deep and tender and shocking in his expression. She was hot and breathless as she held the mug of hot chocolate with both hands so she wouldn’t slop it from trembling too much.
The silence stretched out a little too long. She had no idea what Fitz was thinking, and she was too scared to check his expression again.
Finally he asked softly, “Is that hot chocolate for me?”
“Oh. Yes.” She blinked and swallowed and smiled sheepishly as she handed it to him. “Sorry. Here you go. And I’ve got a plate of cookies in the other room if you want any. Not to brag, but they’re pretty darn good.”
“I’m sure they are. I’ll have to try them out.” He was chuckling as he carried his mug into the living room.
Belinda followed him, relieved (and maybe a little disappointed) that the delicious tension from the moment before had dissipated.
“How did you even happen to see the fallen tree branch?” she asked as she took her place on the couch.
Fitz stood undecided for a few seconds, glancing between the other side of the couch and the chair across the room.
Belinda wasn’t sure what it said about her, but she didn’t want him all the way across the room. She gestured toward the couch. “The cookies are here, if you want them.”
He relaxed and sat down on the other end of the couch. Then reached over and took his time in choosing his first cookie. As he did, he answered her earlier question, “I’d stayed for a while talking to folks at church and was just walking back home when I happened to see it. I knew it would bother you, so I thought I’d check.”
“Why did you walk in weather like this? Is something wrong with your car?”
“No. It’s fine. I like to walk. It takes up more time and sometimes I see people to say hi to.”
“Do you get lonely?” she asked, thinking about what he said and what it might mean. He liked to walk because it took up more time. He wouldn’t be back at home so quickly.
“Everyone does sometimes,” he said lightly.
He was putting her off. Not really answering. She said, “It’s Christmas Eve. Being alone is a little harder on nights like this.”
He nodded, chewing slowly on his soft ginger cookie. “Yeah.” Then he frowned and added, “Why are you alone tonight? You’ve got tons of friends and people who love you.”
“I know I do. Ria wanted me to come over, but I didn’t want to... to get in the way of their family time.” She sighed and swirled the last bit of her hot chocolate in her mug. It was cool now, and she didn’t really want to finish it. “Ria’s got a new family now.”
“You’re still her family, Belinda.”
Her eyes burned for just a minute. “I know. But it’s not the same. I guess I’ve just been... missing my parents. It’s been years since they died, and it hasn’t bothered me like this for a long time. But there’s something about losing people suddenly like that. It’s such a shock that it doesn’t hit you all at once. You haven’t had time to process it and adapt. And so it’s like it’s happening over and over again. For a really long time.” She couldn’t quite keep the tears back, so she used her fingertips to wipe a couple away.
“I know.”
She looked over at his gravelly tone. “Did you lose someone suddenly?”
“I lost everyone suddenly,” he told her. “My parents and my sister.”
“What?” Her voice cracked as she reached over to put a hand on his knee. “Fitz, I’m so sorry. I had no idea. Was it a car accident like my parents?”
“A different sort of accident. But it was just as sudden. I know how it feels. I know, Belinda.” He covered her hand on his knee with one of his own.
She wanted to ask him more questions, but she didn’t want to force him to open up. So she didn’t push it. They sat that way for a minute, and the warm strength of his hand on hers was like a lifeline.
Until he finally withdrew it.
She pulled her hand back quickly. “I was watching White Christmas,” she said, suddenly self-conscious of the intimacy between them when it had never existed before. “Do you like that movie?”
“Sure. But I don’t have to stay if you’d rather—”
“I’d like you to stay.”
He nodded and reached for another cookie while she started up the movie. They finished it and then started another Christmas musical.
They finished the plate of cookies, and before the second movie was over, Belinda had fallen asleep.