Beside Rosa on a loveseat in Gayle’s living room, Marie smiled at the excited voices of children, the cooing noises of infants, and the chatter among adults. Five dogs lay sleeping atop shredded wrapping paper and bows littering the floor from what had been the sweet chaos of opening gifts. The scent of glazed ham wafted from the kitchen. Flames in the huge stone fireplace danced behind stockings hanging from the mantel. A fresh cut fir tree decorated with lights and ornaments twinkled by the bay window. Two inches of fluffy white snow blanketed the yard from overnight.
It’s A Wonderful Life played on the television in the background, and she couldn’t help but think it was. Life could be quite wonderful sometimes. Messy, agonizing, fulfilling as it was lonely, and unpredictable, but wonderful. The scene before her was a testament to that fact. The pang of longing from wanting children of her own had dissipated years ago because she was close with her nephews. They’d grown up, had fallen down that rabbit hole of love, gotten married, and had kids. Such a large, happy family.
She’d done that. Marie and her two sisters had nudged those three men into finding and realizing their true loves. Look, just look, at the result. There was nothing better or more important. Pride rose in her throat, prickled behind her eyes, and she took a deep breath to stave off tears.
She’d been in love once, too. Deep, real, eviscerating love. Honestly, she figured she still was since that sort of affection never really died. A virus with no cure. It couldn’t be vaccinated against. It sometimes came out of nowhere and blindsided. Other instances, it had been right there all along. The only souls who’d ever complain were those unwilling or too cowardly to concede defeat. The result being a vacant, cold void filled with sorrowful disappointment.
She didn’t want to live the rest of her days with regret, wishing she’d chosen differently, hoping she’d get a second crack at it. Her first love and second chance were right in front of her, staring her down and throwing a gauntlet at her feet. He’d come back. For her. For himself. Preston had waltzed right back into town, into her life, and smack into her heart.
They’d matured in their years apart. Had lived separate lives and followed their own paths. But Fate had brought them back to their beginnings. Distance hadn’t severed that connection over time, hadn’t lost it through ticks of the clock or chimes of the hour. He still made her laugh, was kind and truthful, patient and understanding, driven and intelligent. And, oh, the chemistry. The heart-pounding, weak-in-the-knees, skin-flushing attraction had only seemed to flourish, like it had been merely waiting for its counterpart.
Did that mean they were destined? Maybe. Should they rush into deepening the relationship and ignore the consequences of reality? No. Would she keep moving forward with her eyes open and her heart engaged? Absolutely.
He wasn’t here, though. A silly item to focus on, but that was neither here nor there. Gayle had invited him for Christmas. To spend time with the family and make their relationship official. Perhaps he’d already had plans or thought it was too soon, but that didn’t jive with how he’d behaved this past week or what he’d said.
Idle, Marie fingered the charm necklace he’d given to her last night, gaze lost as lights blurred and voices shifted to white noise. He’d remembered she’d loved hourglasses, the testament of time and how it couldn’t be shaped or bent. The irony. Even the sand was her favorite shade of blue, due in large part to the color of his irises. He could say a million and one words without uttering a sound because his eyes were so expressive. They’d been the first feature she’d noticed about him way back when she’d been but a seventeen-year-old.
“Are you ready?”
She flinched. Blinking rapidly, she glanced at Rosa next to her.
Ready? “For what?”
Her sister glared at her like Marie had tripped and smacked her head on the Rock of Stupidity. Thrice. “I told you I wanted to take you somewhere today.”
That’s right. Rosa had mentioned it on the way to Gayle’s. Marie, used to her sister’s disjointed antics, hadn’t paid it much mind.
She cautiously looked around the room, realizing the only sounds were that of the dogs snoring and Clarence from the movie telling George Bailey, “You see, you've really had a wonderful life. Don't you see what a mistake it would be to throw it away?”
More irony.
Everyone was staring at her from their various positions as if they were expecting her to ring a bell so an angel can get its wings. What in the world was going on?
Rosa stood and walked to the coat closet by the entrance. “Hurry up, would you?”
Confused and more than a tad irritated, Marie glanced at Gayle. Her other sister offered no insight.
Fine. Marie rose and took her jacket from Rosa’s outstretched hand. “Where are we going?” Gayle had dinner planned for five o’clock, and no way was Marie missing dessert. Apple pie was her second favorite. Not to mention mashed potatoes because…yeah. Mashed potatoes. Enough said. “Everything is closed on Christmas.”
“Not everything.” Rosa craned to look around Marie. “We’ll be back.”
Darn right.
She buttoned her coat and wrapped her scarf around her neck. Rosa was holding the door open before Marie even had her hat on.
They strode to Rosa’s car and got in. Marie stewed in the passenger seat while her sister pulled out of the driveway and onto the wooded two-lane road.
Pines whizzed by, covered in a thin blanket of snow against a cobalt sky. The creek zigzagging between the trees reflected sunlight with chunks of ice on the rocky shore. They went around the town square and into a smaller subdivision a block away from Marie’s. A left turn, and she knew where Rosa was taking her. Why remained to be seen.
Built in the late forties, each house was the same, albeit the exterior siding color. All a two or three bedroom craftsman with postage stamp yards and evergreen bushes.
Rosa parked at the curb of one home in the middle of the block. White vinyl and black shutters. A small walkway from the street. The normal, almost boring state of the exterior belied what the inside resembled. The kitchen was painted mustard yellow, the living room mandarin orange, the bathroom fire engine red, and the two bedrooms were purple. As in, the Barney variety shade.
“Why are we at your house?” Marie swiveled her head to look at her sister, wondering why they weren’t sipping hot cocoa with Bailey’s by the fire and harping on Gayle to finish dinner.
“It wasn’t always my house.”
No kidding. Despite appearances otherwise, Marie wasn’t senile. They’d grown up in this house. There hadn’t been a lot of money, but there had been love aplenty. Their father had been a mechanic and their mother a housewife. When they’d passed, Rosa had bought the place. Her cryptic nonsense was starting to aggravate Marie.
“Once upon a time, you asked Preston to come to where it all started and give you his decision about your relationship. Twenty-five years ago, he showed up. You thought he’d bailed, but he didn’t. He did come, Marie, just to the wrong place.”
“What?” she breathed, staring at her sister as her peripheral went dark. Her belly cramped and her blood ran cold. “He came here?”
He hadn’t blown her off or discarded her? Hadn’t set his sights for bigger and better places without so much as a goodbye? Hadn’t ended their engagement without even glancing at the cloud of dust in his rearview?
Rosa drove off while Marie’s head spun with unanswered questions. How had Rosa known? Why hadn’t she said something sooner? What was the point in bringing this up now?
Chewing her lower lip, Marie clenched her fingers in her lap, wondering what to do with the knowledge. It had happened so long ago, the semantics hardly mattered anymore. They were starting over, fresh and new, and forgiving one another for the past mistakes. Things had been going well.
Then again, reservations and doubts had been hammering at her. They had quieted when she’d been with him or they’d conversed by phone and reared anew when she’d been alone. She couldn’t quite flesh out the particular setback, but she could at least acknowledge its existence for the sake of honesty.
Yet…knowing he hadn’t purposely abandoned her? Left her standing alone and waiting aimlessly for him to come? Hearing he had tried, at the very least, to see her? Gosh, her chest pounded and she grew dizzy. Why hadn’t he told her himself?
They came to an abrupt halt, and Marie glanced out the windshield, the passenger window, and the windshield again. The park.
Oh, goodness. The park. Where she’d waited for him. Systematically, every cell in her body shut down and she couldn’t move. She didn’t know what Rosa was up to or why, but the hairs on Marie’s nape stood erect. And not from the weather.
To the left, vast open fields were covered in snow. Acres of land where the town had held many events. The playground and baseball diamond were off in the distance. To the right was the opening to the walking paths and hiking trails up the mountain. Hundred-year-old redwoods, maples, and oaks with bases as wide as she was tall. Ahead, several yards, lay the rocky cliff ledge and the ocean thirty stories below. Gray-blue water churned and white-capped waves crashed boulders jutting from surface.
Between there and the parking lot where they sat was a lone pine that patrons had flocked to for the annual tree-lighting ceremony the day after Thanksgiving. White dusted the branches which swayed in a gentle breeze. Next to it was a large gazebo with a pitched roof and lattice trim, where she’d waited for Preston what seemed like ages ago now.
Figured Rosa would bring Marie here. Especially after starting out at their old family home and telling her Preston had gone there that night by mistake. But to what end? And for what purpose? This seemed rather ridiculous to…
Movement in the gazebo caught her attention. A person, though it was too difficult to make out whom. She knew, however. Just knew Preston was here. Her stomach knotted and her pulse jackrabbited.
“Go on. We’re not getting any younger. Go fetch your happy ending.”
She jerked her focus to Rosa, her sister’s smile smug and this side of neener-neener like Marie had witnessed too often. “What have you done?”
“Pfft. I’m an angel.”
“If angels had horns and carried pitchforks.”
Rosa’s grin widened to Cheshire cat. “Okay, I may have updated Pinterest and Twitter. A little. By accidentally on purpose. So what?”
Oh, for crying out loud. For years, as Marie and her sisters had paired couples, Rosa had sent out tweets from the town’s account and uploaded pictures to the boards.
“You set me up. You played Cupid for me and Preston?”
It made sense. All the coincidences, the times the Holiday Ball had needed Marie’s services. The little brat! She’d…
“Naw, not me. Darn shame I didn’t think of it first.”
Marie narrowed her eyes on Rosa. She was sneaky and brass, but she’d never been a liar. Which meant the events as of late had been flukes.
“Are you waiting for an omen?” Rosa waved her hand and gestured at the windshield. “Hurry it up. Get out of the car.”
A sigh, and Marie reached for the handle. “We’ll talk about this later.”
“Duh. In detail.”
She shook her head and climbed out, shutting the door behind her. A brisk wind hit her face, causing her eyes to water as she looked at the gazebo. She wondered if Preston was trying to prove a point by coming to this specific spot.
Alas, she wouldn’t find out standing still.
Nerves pinged her stomach as her boots crunched on the freshly fallen snow from last night. Ducking her head, she headed up the short path, breathing in salt from the ocean and pine from the dense forest. Clean, crisp air that held traces of ice.
She got one foot on the gazebo steps, and peeling tires screeched behind her. A glance over her shoulder, and she caught Rosa’s car as it fish-tailed from the parking lot, up the road, and out of sight.
Preston’s rough laugh filled the waning silence. “Subtlety is still her strong suit, I see.”
“Subtle as an avalanche.” Marie turned back and ascended the few steps, watching him. He had on a pair of jeans, black boots, and a matching coat with the collar turned up. No hat, and his salt-and-pepper strands were disheveled from the wind. The tip of his nose and ears were bright red from the cold. “How long have you been here?”
“Since dawn.”
“What?”
“You waited hours for me once. Figured I’d do the same. It was only fair.”
Geez. “Preston, that’s noble, but you could’ve just come to Gayle’s. We were young and that was a long time ago. We both got over it.”
“That’s just it, little sea star. I don’t think we did get over it.” He shook his head, glancing away, his profile sharp compared to the softness of his expression. “I can’t take back what I did any more than you can. I don’t think either of us would if we had the capability, but what happened here, right here in this gazebo, is coming between us now.”
He closed his eyes and sighed, then leveled his gaze on her. He hit her with a thousand and one emotions filtered through a contemplative stare. “I never would have kept you waiting for me, never would have left without saying goodbye. I went to your folks’ place.”
“I know. Rosa told me.” She brushed a wayward strand of hair from her face, attempting to find the right thing to say. He seemed resigned and hurt, leaving her throat tight in the process. “I should’ve been more clear.”
“If you had, things would’ve played out differently. I might’ve stayed or you had gone with me. The result being Gayle’s theory as truth.” He studied her a beat, but she couldn’t interpret his expression. “I almost didn’t get on that plane.” He huffed a laugh. “I struggled all through the night, weighing options. I loved you and didn’t want to do anything without you by my side. All the greeting cards, the attempts to reach you since then, only proves I never stopped.”
“Preston.” Gosh. Oh, wow. Dang, her eyes grew wet as she stared at him through a haze of tears.
“You are worth it, Marie. Worth the eight years we had together, the time in between we were apart, and the second chance we have today. I didn’t abandon you here in this place. I didn’t scour you from my mind or memory. I simply got the details wrong. So, yes, I needed to come to this very gazebo and wait. For you. For us. What’s holding you back from moving forward together is the feeling of desperation and isolation you had the last time you were here. Let’s replace that with hope now that you know the truth.”
He stepped closer and cupped her face, his fingers cold, his gaze warm. Endearing and pleading, he smiled. “Let’s replace the emptiness with love. On our first date, after a movie, we came here. You told me that if you ever found the right guy, you would love him like you mean it. I kissed you, but I knew even then that I’d fallen for you. Do it, Marie. Love me like you mean it because I am the right guy. I’m yours.”
Her chest hitched with a sob. Leave it to him to figure out the glitch barring her progress, the thread on the pulse of her hesitation. And he was right. So, so very right. She had felt like she hadn’t mattered to him because he’d left without a goodbye, without bothering to face her on his way out. But that hadn’t been the case. If she hadn’t been too wounded to see the truth before, she would’ve known by his consistent attempts to remind her through the years. She’d been focused on the pain instead of her instincts.
“I love you, too.” She sniffed, wiping her cheeks, and smiled up at him. The future and happiness were staring at her. They needed to flesh things out and take time to rebuild, but they would together. No regrets. “I do. I love you.”
His gaze darted between hers, swift and optimistically expectant in its perusal. He slid his hands from her cheeks to the back of her neck like he was worried she’d drift away. Breathing labored, he swallowed, a furrow between his brows.
Finally, he let out an uneven breath. “You mean that?”
“Yes.” She set her hands on his upper arms, clenching the material of his jacket. “Every word. I love you.”
Without warning, he pressed his lips to hers. Fierce, determined. After a beat, the kiss became tender, him parting his lips and capturing hers with a sentiment no words could convey. That he loved her. That she was his everything. And that he wouldn’t allow anything to come between them again.
Heat built inside her, chasing away the cold, the uncertainty, and the doubts. They were going to be okay. They were going to be happy.
He chuckled against her mouth. “It’s magic, isn’t it?”
Confused, she eased her face away a fraction to look in his eyes, only to be met with mischief.
“Mistletoe is magic. Look up.”
She tilted her head to cast her gaze on the peaked ceiling. A bundle of green mistletoe with red berries was affixed to the rafter. “Well, that is the supposed tradition and legend.” Setting her focus back on him, she took in his amazing blue eyes and charming smile. “Mistletoe or Christmas miracles? Who knows. But we are here together, so something went right.”
His grin widened, cindering her to ash. “And together is where we’ll stay. I’m sorry I was late by,” he checked his watch over her shoulder, “twenty-five years and a day, but I did make it.”
Yes, he sure did. In fact, they would make it. “Merry Christmas.”