CAMERON
The previous Christmas, Cameron had spent the holiday in Montreal with the skater. They’d walked through the Atwater Market and she’d broken her diet with smoked meat poutine and they’d had sex in the light from the Christmas tree. If you’d asked Cameron, he would have said it was about as good a Christmas as it got.
But standing in the mayhem of the Riverview Inn on Christmas Eve he knew he’d been lying to himself. This was what Christmas Eve should look like. And it should sound like twenty Mitchell relatives arguing over memories and playlists and which movies they were going to watch next.
It was his stocking, the one Delia had made for him ages ago, hung up on the rope next to everyone else’s.
And it was his body, exhausted and relaxed from loving Josie all night long.
And his heart…oh god, this was how his heart was supposed to feel. Full. So full.
He turned away from the stockings and found Max at the door, prepared to go outside to get more firewood.
“Max?” he said, his mouth running twenty feet in front of him. “You going to get more wood?” He walked over to put on his boots.
“Yeah,” Max said, not hiding his surprise and happiness.
“I’ll help.”
Outside it was the kind of cold that hurt to breathe. The icicles weren’t dripping anymore—they’d frozen over again in the cold snap after the storm.
They walked around the side of the lodge to the old shed Max had been building when Delia and Josie first moved here. It was where they kept all the wood for all the fireplaces.
“Keeping this place stocked with firewood is still a full-time job,” Cameron joked.
“You want it?” Max asked.
“No. I’ve done my time.” Cameron was keeping it light, but the words held a certain weight. A hard reality. Max stopped and Cameron cursed himself. His mouth, again.
“I’d like to say something,” Max said. “Without you arguing with me. Can I do that?”
“You can give it a try.”
“I am sorry for my part in what happened seven years ago. If I’d acted any other way, we wouldn’t have gotten to where we got so fast. We might have been able to talk—”
“I don’t know, Max. You found me on top of your drunk, half-naked daughter. I’d have kicked me out, too.”
Max looked down, his jaw working. And suddenly…suddenly, the moment wasn’t hard. All the hard work of letting go of the past had been done sometime in the night. Or maybe this morning when Josie made the miraculous effort to create a way into the future for them.
“Max,” Cameron said and stepped closer to the man so he had to look up. “I hated the way I left and it took me a really long time to be okay. But I’m okay. I am.”
“Son, I mean, Cam—”
“There was a time in my life when you calling me son was about the best thing I could imagine. And I wouldn’t mind if you called me that again.”
Oh, Max really was the waterworks these days. His eyes welled.
“I don’t know if I deserve that,” Max said.
“Well, I’m in charge. And I do.”
Cameron smiled wide at the old man and all those years…they vanished. “Max,” he said. “You look like you could use a hug.”
Max’s laugh was teary as Cameron pulled him in for a back-slapping hug. They hadn’t been much on these when he’d been a kid. Max was a firm handshake kind of guy, not a hugger. This felt both incredibly awkward…and right.
“But I need to tell you something, Max. Or…I don’t know, ask you something.”
“Yeah?”
He struggled to find the right words.
Max smiled at him like he knew and then stepped away over to the shed. He threw open the door, revealing the wheelbarrow and stacks of wood.
So many years with this man doing exactly the same thing, and Cameron was suddenly so grateful that his world had come around like this. A full circle. Not just because of Josie, although lord, was he grateful for Josie. But for this family.
“Max,” he said.
“I’m listening.”
“I’m going to marry Josie. Maybe not this year. Or next. But I will.”
Max turned, his face careful. But this time Cameron understood what that careful face meant. It wasn’t judgment or censure. It was love. Love barely restrained.
“I’d like your blessing. I know Josie would, too.”
The snow had started falling again and they could hear the muffled sounds of family and Alice’s favorite carol on repeat.
“You have it, son. You’ve always had it.”
JOSIE
Well, she’d messed it up. Jumped too soon. After all those years of waiting and then being separated, she’d gotten drunk on contact and made a mess of things with Cameron.
“It’s snowing again,” Helen said, looking out the window.
“Have you heard from Evan?” Josie asked. They were sitting on the couch cutting up pieces of paper for the big round of games that the whole family would play before dinner. Fishbowl and Empire. Another Christmas Eve tradition. They’d play games and then the youngest of the kids would go to bed up in the rooms in the lodge and the parents and grandparents would stuff the stockings and drink some wine.
Add the finishing touches the next day.
And then it would be Christmas. There would be the mayhem of the morning, but that would be over by noon. And then an afternoon of laziness and reading books and playing games that had been stuffed in stockings. And after a Herculean clean-up effort the next day the lodge would be open again to guests. The restaurant full. The holiday over.
“Last night. He got to the airport but all the highways are closed so he’s still in the city.”
“There’s still plenty of time,” Josie said. And she touched her cousin’s shoulder, which was stiff and tense under her flannel shirt.
“Yeah,” Helen said with a smile that did not reach her eyes. “What about you? Are you okay?”
“Fine,” Josie said but Helen gave her the sympathetic look she’d just gotten from Josie.
The front door opened, letting in Max and Cameron with a blast of cold air.
The men put their backs to the door, arms full of wood, snow dusting their hair. And they were…laughing.
Max and Cameron were laughing?
The whole room noticed, everyone turning to stare at the two men as they carried the wood over to the fireplace and then kicked off their boots and hung up their coats. Chatting away about a summer Cameron planted trees in Northern Canada.
He’s had so many lives, she thought. So many. It’s no wonder he doesn’t want me. I’ve had one life and I’ve wasted it doing stupid things.
She stood, needing some air that hadn’t touched Cameron, and headed for the kitchen. Mom and Grandma Iris were in there, drinking tea or maybe whiskey in teacups. It was hard to know with those two.
“Josie,” Mom said, standing up straight. “Are you all right?”
No. I’ve blown up my life and I’m right back where I was when I was a kid, loving Cameron and not knowing what he thinks of me.
She opened her mouth to say fine. To smile and maybe ask for a teacup full of whiskey, but when she opened her mouth, nothing happened. There were no words. It was like her brain was saying—you can’t do this anymore. This is no way to survive.
“Oh honey,” Iris said, and Mom got out a teacup.
“Iris is having whiskey. I’m having tea. Which do you want?”
Josie pointed to the whiskey.
“I’ll be okay,” she said, and she knew that was the truth. The only way to survive heartache was to just push your way through. And she hadn’t done that years ago. She’d run from it and she’d been running ever since. If there was one thing she could leave this place with when Christmas was over, it was the knowledge that whatever came after this heartbreak was better than what had come before.
She felt good about that. Even if she did want to throw herself at her mom and cry.
The kitchen door opened and Cameron walked in. The storm outside had picked up its pace again and roared around the corners of the lodge like some kind of soundtrack to his entrance.
She took a sip of her whiskey and winced.
“Delia? Iris? Can you give Josie and I a second?”
Iris walked by Cameron and squeezed his hand. “I’m so happy you’re back,” she said, and Mom seconded that, and then they were out the door.
“Iris didn’t say that to me,” Josie said, trying for a joke.
“I always knew I was her favorite,” Cameron said with a smile. He stepped closer and Josie, instinctively, stepped back. Cameron stopped. Stricken.
“I just…I feel like a fool. You know? And I think I just need a second before we slip right back into being friends again. I know I rushed things,” she said. “Quitting my job and then trying to co-opt your work. It wasn’t fair. And I’m sorry.”
Cameron ran a hand through his hair and winced at her. “I think I just rushed things too,” he said and then looked down at her teacup. “Is that tea or whiskey?”
“Whiskey.”
“Can I—?”
She handed him the teacup and he shot it down. Josie, despite the pain and doubt, couldn’t help but laugh. “You all right—?”
“I just asked Max for his blessing to marry you.”
Josie stumbled backward onto a stool. “You did what?”
“I know,” he said. “I mean, the words just came out. Maybe not this year. Or maybe not for a bunch of years, but you and I are getting married.”
“That’s what you said?”
“I did. I said that.”
They gaped at each other. Until the shock of it all cleared away and made room for a wild burst of joy. She laughed and then clapped her hand over her mouth.
“I mean…what are we doing?” she asked.
He smiled the smile that made her feel like she was sitting in sunlight. The smile that made her feel seen and heard. And loved.
So loved.
“Maybe we’re not rushing things,” he said, slipping his fingers into her hair, cupping her face. “Maybe we’re just catching up.”
“I like that,” she breathed. “I like you.”
That made him laugh and kiss her forehead. Her nose. “I love you, Josie. I have loved you since you were sixteen years old. And I don’t know what happens next. But whatever it is, I just want to be with you.”
“That’s exactly what I was thinking.”
He kissed her, and she wrapped her arms around his back and pulled him in close. “I love you,” she breathed into his mouth. Across his skin. Over all the years they’d been together and apart. “But what if…what if we don’t actually like each other? What if I snore and you’re a nag? What if we’re selfish—”
He shook his head, already about to prove her wrong. “We come from the same place, Josie. All those people in the other room. All those good honest, hardworking people brought us up. Showed us the way. Nothing bad has come from this place.”
“The Riverview does make special people.”
“None as special as you,” he said.
“I think that’s the whiskey talking.”
“It’s my heart talking,” he said and kissed her again. And again.
“I have one more question for you,” he said.
“Right. The always elusive fifth question.”
“Will you come with me? To Australia and New Zealand. Travel. Figure out a show. Build something? Together. You an—”
“Yes. Yes. To all of it.” She hugged him as hard as she could, like she could make up for all the years they’d been apart. As if she could absorb him right into her body.
“Best. Christmas. Ever.” Cameron said.