Later that evening, I drove to my friend Emma’s little cabin outside of Pine Tree Lodge and rang her doorbell, ready to paint Christmas ornaments for The Christmas Extravaganza’s silent auction. The money raised would be donated to the community center in Ms. King’s honor, since it had been such a huge part of her life. A moment later, the front door opened and Emma stood there smiling, but the smile didn’t seem to reach her eyes.
“I’ve got hot chocolate, marshmallows, pizza, and wine,” Emma said, leaning over to give me a hug.
I laughed, squeezing her back. “You’ve covered all my favorite food groups.”
Her eyes shined. “Well, then, come on in.”
Joy burst into my chest. This was one of the reasons I’d returned home last year. For my best friends from the choir group and the closeness that came with having known someone forever. I hadn’t been able to see Emma too often throughout the year, but the bond between us couldn’t be separated by time apart. We always picked up right where we left off.
Emma’s living room was comfortable and perfect. She had already set up a tray and a steaming electric kettle that gave off the scent of heated milk, cinnamon, vanilla, nutmeg, and chocolate. I breathed that smell in. “Ms. King’s super-secret recipe.”
She smiled. “Yes.”
My mouth dropped open. “No way.”
“Yes way. She gave it to me before she passed.”
I started to demand that she spill the secret of that hot chocolate. I could list every ingredient but no matter how I combined them it never came out right. But I didn’t ask for the recipe. Ms. King always had a reason for what she did and didn’t do.
Emma poured chocolate into two bright red mugs for us. I took a slow sip. The rich, sweet, and slightly spicy liquid coated my tongue.
I moaned. “Oh, this is so good.”
She smiled. “I know, right?”
I set the cup down and looked around. The Christmas tree glittered and sparkled. A fire glowed in the adorable electric fireplace. “I wish I were as organized and together as you are, Emma. I haven’t even put a tree up yet. I put one up at the store, of course, but not at home.”
Hurt swelled up in my chest at the mention of home. Christmas should be with family, but mine had split and spread to the far corners of the country. No presents under the tree for me. No happy family enjoying each other’s company. And soon Adam would be gone, forever. My Christmas was looking bleaker by the second.
I stepped over to the little table that Emma had set up with the little glass globes and the paints, the glitter and the trims. “These are going to be pretty.”
She nodded. “I hope so. I want them to be perfect for the auction.”
“I know.” We all did. The seven of us would be singing at The Christmas Extravaganza in the evening on Christmas Day, just like we’d done at Ms. King’s request last year.
I surveyed the clear glass globes. “It’s a shame Adam isn’t here. He’s a terrific painter.”
Emma’s eyebrows raised. “Adam? You mean Larry Kline’s son? I thought he was a stockbroker or something.”
“He works at a PR firm in New York. But he paints, too. Or, he used to, from the photos Mr. Kline used to keep all over his office. I wish . . .” A lump formed in my throat. I wished for way too much, and none of it could come true. “Never mind.”
Emma gasped. “You like Adam.”
“Is it that obvious?” I took in a shaky breath and grabbed a little tube of paint. I squirted the bright aqua blue onto the little strip of paper and stirred it with a brush. Then I sighed. “He’s leaving town. So, what’s the point in all of these feelings?”
She squeezed some red paint out of a tube and carefully capped it and my tube, too. “Maybe you two could do some kind of long-distance thing? See if what you have is worth trying for? For some couples that might work.”
Would it be worth trying for? His kisses gave me goosebumps, lit up all my senses. His smile made my heart melt. We could hike together, fish together, and he understood me in a way nobody else ever had. But we were complete and total opposites.
I shook my head. “Even if we tried a long-distance relationship, it would never work out in the end. He would never move to Christmas Mountain. He’s a city-boy. I can’t move to New York. I’m an outdoorsy girl. We’re doomed.”
“I can relate to being an outdoorsy girl.” Emma carefully applied a thin layer of crimson to the bottom of her glass globe. “Ashley can relate, too, since she started the outdoor recreation company. But, come on, Faith. Good relationships are hard to find. There must be some kind of solution.”
I painted a blue zigzag pattern and then shrugged. “I’ve lived in a city before. The noise, the crowds, the exhaust . . . it’s not me. I need to breathe in the fresh scent of trees and clean air. I love Christmas Mountain. It’s my home. Adam feels the same way about New York.”
“Hold on.” She picked up my globe and took a cloth, dipped it in turpentine, and then carefully wiped off a blot of paint. Then she gave it back. “See? Just needed a little tweaking. Like a solution for you and Adam needs some tweaking. Come on, Faith. If you want something, you have to go after it. You taught me that back in high school when I wanted to break free of my mother’s control and become a chef and worried that I’d never get there.”
“This is different . . .” I dipped the paintbrush into the paint and tried to get a nice even coat of the blue at the bottom of the bulb. It bled and ran downward. “It’s hopeless, just like this globe seems to be. Yikes!”
Emma applied the cloth again, blew some air across the globe and said, “You know what? This one’s wet from the turpentine. Try a fresh one.”
I lifted another globe, spreading the paint nicely. I turned to see Emma carefully affixing silver stars above her line of paint. Huh. Good idea. I grabbed some stars and glue.
“Thanks for your support,” I said, twisting my lips to the side. “But Adam is selling Silver Bells Luxury Tours and nobody can stop him. It’s a done deal. He knows how important the business is to me and to this town. But he doesn’t want it. That’s all that matters.” I set the globe down and frowned, and then shook my fingers. The stars were stuck, right there on my fingertips. Ugh. How had that happened? I tried to wipe them off on a cloth. Then the cloth stuck to my fingers. What the . . .?
“It’s pretty strong glue.” Emma bit back a laugh and then grabbed some funky smelling stuff and squirted it onto my fingers. I wiped and the stars fell off, landing on the table.
“You can’t change his mind about the business?” she asked.
I gave her a quick summary of the prospective buyers that had come through and what had happened there. “Our best bet is that whoever buys the business keeps it as is.”
She winced. “I can’t imagine it as a day spa.”
“Me, either.” I sucked in a breath and then dipped my brush into the paint again. “I wanted to help save Mr. Kline’s business, but Adam’s going to sell it.” My vision blurred. “And I did the tests to see if I was a match for a donation of marrow to Ms. King, but I wasn’t. Nothing seems to work out, but I wish Adam and I could stay together.”
“I’ve never heard you say that about a guy before,” she said, smiling as she brushed the excess glitter off my globe. “You know, one of the best things about you is how much you care about people. Tell me why you like this guy, I’d love to know.”
I lifted my lashes. “He’s kind, smart, funny, and he gets me. Sometimes he kisses me like he’s giving me a lifeline just when I’m about to drown.”
A shiver rolled through me at the memory of his kisses.
“Sounds like something special between you two that’s meant to last.”
“I know,” I admitted, wishing he wasn’t so perfect for me. “But he lives in New York, Em. And he’s selling the business. I just don’t know what to do. He asked me to dinner tomorrow night. I’m scared it will end up as a farewell date.”
She set my completed globe down carefully on a plastic sheet so it could dry. “I thought you said he’s a good kisser.”
“He’s a great kisser. I wish I knew how this could all work out.”
She set her finished globe next to mine. “You could try asking him.”
“I could . . .”
“What would Ms. King say?” Emma asked.
I smiled. “Nothing ventured means you’re stuck in the same spot.”
She squirted orange paint onto the paper. “I guess you’d better get to venturing then, Faith.”
I couldn’t think or speak. “I don’t know how.”
“Are you kidding me? You’re a guide. You’re a leader. You didn’t start doing that for no reason at all. You know how to venture. You know there are risks in every single thing in life. And you know how to navigate those risks. Why are you so afraid with this guy? I’ve never seen you like this.”
“I know. Normally I’m—”
“Fearless,” Emma supplied. “But not with Adam. Why do you think that is?”
I took a deep breath. All the things I wanted to say stuck to my tongue. I had to tell her the truth. I had to tell myself the truth. “I think he’s the one.”
“Then why don’t you tell him that?”
“You know the reason.” I stared at my badly painted globe. “My mom thought my dad was the one. She went for it. He thought she was the one. He went for it. They fell in love and had a marriage and that didn’t work out. What if I think Adam is the one but we end up being all wrong for each other?”
“You’re getting way ahead of yourself, girl. Maybe you should try being with him, long distance or not, to find out if he is the one.”
“Good point. But what if he is—and it doesn’t work out between us anyway?”
“Nobody wants to get hurt.” Emma grabbed my globe and wiped a blob of paint off the little silver hook at the top. She blew on her globe so the paint would dry faster. “But what if you never ask? Can you live with just letting him go and not trying at all?”
I couldn’t. I had to try. I studied my globe. “If I’m in need of a shoulder to cry on and a buddy who’s willing to buy the pancakes, will you be there?”
“You know I will.”
“Then I’m going for it.” I nodded, resolving to let him know tomorrow. We had to work since the potential buyers would be there this weekend, so maybe we’d get a chance to talk before our date.
I was going to go for it with Adam. I was going to tell him I wanted to be with him, no matter what that looked like. I was going to spill my heart, give him one terrific kiss, or maybe two or three kisses, and then hope it would all work out for us.