Frosted Midnight: A Christmas Novella
Read Frosted Midnight: A Christmas Novella Online
Authors: Breena Wilde,!2 NAs of Christmas
Willow needs a miracle...
Twenty-year-old Willow is a librarian in the tourist town of Bandon, Oregon. During the summer the town is bursting with interesting people from all over the world.
Two summers ago she met Austin. He was everything she ever wanted in a man: smart, funny, and gorgeous. But after eight perfect weeks he left, and she hasn't heard from him since.
Until Christmas Eve. She receives an email from Austin asking her to meet him at midnight so he can explain.
It might be a booty call, but Willow has to see him one last time, even if it's just to say good-b
ye.
COPYRIGHT
FROSTED MIDNIGHT: A Novella
Copyright © Breena Wilde
Breena
Wilde Books
Digital Edition
This book in its entirety is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard word of this author.
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written consent of the author,
Breena Wilde, P.O. Box 1408 Bountiful, UT. 84011.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the creation of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Cover design by: Sarah Hansen www.okaycreations.com
Design copyright @2013
Breena Wilde
Edited by: Clean Leaf Editing
Break, break,
break,
On thy cold gray stones, O Sea!
And I would that my tongue could utter
The thoughts that arise in me
And the stately ships go on
To their haven under the hill;
But O for the touch of a vanish’d hand,
And the sound of a voice that is still
. ~
Alfred, Lord Tennyson
I heard beeping. People were shouting. After a time the noises went quiet and I saw a white light at the end of a long tunnel. It beckoned and I started walking toward it. With each step the tunnel lit up. Hands reached out to touch me. I felt like I should be scared, but I was filled with love, so much love that I started to cry. The emotions filled me to overflowing and I longed for more. When I reached the end of the tunnel people stood there waiting. Somehow I knew them. One elderly woman reached out and embraced me.
“Welcome home, Willow dear.”
I was nineteen
when I fell in love. It was that once in a lifetime kind of love, the kind of love that hit hard and didn’t let go, the kind where all I could do was think about him. Only him. Always him.
The shine in h
is hazel eyes and the way the corners of his eyes would crinkle when he smiled. Or the way his dark hair fell into his face when he leaned down to kiss me.
His name was Austin Merrick. He wasn’t a boy from my quaint tourist town of Bandon, Oregon
. He was a man: tall, muscled. He wore cowboy boots, jeans that sat low on his tapered hips, t-shirts, and a cowboy hat that looked older than him. He had a square jaw, straight white teeth, and a mouth that could do things to my lips and my body…
He was my first t
ime, my every time. From the moment I met him I knew I’d never have to look at another man again.
I still didn’t know why he came to Bandon
, but from the moment he walked into the library where I worked, came over to my desk, and asked for my opinion on a good book, I was a goner. Yes, it was love at first sight. And I didn’t regret it.
He was in my lif
e for eight weeks, eight flawless weeks. And then he left. Without a good-bye. Just rolled over, kissed me tenderly, walked out of my bedroom, and never came back.
My
heart broke that day, splintered into a million pieces. After that I got sick, couldn’t keep down food. Nine months later, I had a baby girl.
Everything changed when she was born. My heart healed.
Her tiny body, her sweet cries became my first real truth. Her life, her love, her needs superseded mine.
It was
strange to think in terms of another person’s life, to gauge my own merits and accomplishments based on someone else, and maybe it wasn’t right, maybe that wasn’t how I was meant to live. But I was responsible for her. Without me she would die. I knew that. Accepted it.
I named my daughter
Emma Austin after my grandmother and her father. Emma taught me what it meant to love and be loved unconditionally.
I never told her father. He never contacted me, and I didn’t look for him.
What happened to us happened all the time in tourist towns. An out-of-towner fell for a local. When summer ended, one would leave the other behind. With Austin I thought things would be different. I believed it when he told me he loved me. But that was the way summers in tourist towns went. It wasn’t his fault I believed him. It was mine.
So, for the last five months I raised Emma on my own. Well
, with the help of my mom and my three older sisters.
Emma was spoiled rotten
, which was good. My life was good. Busy. Between work at the library, taking care of Emma, and spending time at the hospital and with family, there wasn’t time for anything else.
I
n two days Emma would celebrate her first Christmas.
I was content with the life I had. Settled even.
At the ripe old age of twenty.
A
t least, that was what I believed until I received an email.
From him.
Austin
Fucking Merrick.
I read the email again.
Willow,
I hope this letter finds you well. It’s been a while since we’ve talked. Maybe you don’t even remember me. We met at the library a couple of summers ago. We dated, kissed, and more.
Anyway, I left without saying good-bye or giving you a reason.
That was wrong.
You deserve an explanation.
Can you meet me on Christmas Eve at midnight? At our spot on the beach. Near the caves, remember? I’d like to explain, see you again. I’ve missed you.
Please say yes.
Yours,
Austin
There were several things about the email that irritated the hell out of me. The first was the implication that I might not remember him, as though I fell in love with guys all the time or something. The second was that he emailed me out of the blue, after almost fifteen months, asking me to meet him.
It surprised me he knew my email. I hadn’t given it to him. While we were together we hadn’t exchanged
email addresses. He’d never given me his number. I hadn’t given him mine. It was a discussion that never came up. Austin met me after my shift at the library each evening. We spent every free moment together. I never even introduced him to my family. I hadn’t wanted to share him. And it’d seemed he hadn’t wanted to share me either.
“Ugh!”
I flipped off my computer,
picked up my hot cocoa from the kitchen counter, and took a sip. Emma was down for the night and I had—
A soft knock
sounded against my door. My heart sped up because my first thought was that it was Austin. But I quickly calmed down. It couldn’t be. My mom and sisters were supposed to come over tonight. We were going to wrap presents while we watched
It’s a Wonderful Life
and drank my mom’s secret eggnog.
I peeked through the blinds.
My sister, Heather, waved. I smiled and opened the door. “Hey ladies.”
Their arms were stacked with presen
ts. I took one from each as I kissed them on the cheek.
“
Oooh, I like your tree, Will,” Liv said with mock sarcasm.
“
Har-de-har.”
“So glad I brought some things to spruce it up.” Sara opened her paper bag and pulled out some red tinsel.
“Emma asleep?” my mom asked.
“Yeah. She went down a while ago.”
“Awesome. It’s time for eggnog.” Heather took a bottle of rum and peach brandy from her paper bag. “You picked some up, right?”
“Of course.”
I opened the refrigerator, grabbed the eggnog, and set it on the counter.
My mom got mugs from the cupboard and started making the drinks—lots of apricot brandy, lots of ru
m, and a little bit of eggnog.
“So how long
have you been in your jammies?” Liv sat at the table in front of my computer and turned it on.
“Hey.
You’re just jealous because you’re still wearing regular clothes.” I glanced down at my pink cotton pajamas and matching slippers. “These are comfy.”
Are these new curtains?” Sara asked. She always noticed the homey touches, like the curtains or the new slipcover I put over my couch or the pinecone wreath I’d made for the front door.
“Yeah, I made those the other day. You like them?”
“I do.
The pale green gives all the white in your kitchen a pop of needed color.”
“I think so too.” Mom handed me a mug
of secret eggnog—the secret was there was hardly any eggnog—and I brought it to my lips. It smelled strong and, as much as I wanted to get wasted and forget the email from Austin, I couldn’t overdo it. I had to stay sober for Emma.
M
y mom seemed to understand what I was thinking. “Don’t worry. I won’t drink—much. I’ll keep an eye on Emma.”
“Thanks, mom.” She meant well, but my mom enjoyed her alcohol as much as
my sisters and me.
Heather snorted. “Yeah, between the four of us, we’ll keep her safe.
”
I took a sip. It was thick, sweet, and burned.
“Good, right?” Sara asked.
I giggled. “Really good.”
“So you going to tell us about this email?” Liv asked, pointing at the screen.
“What email?” Mom asked, leaning over
Liv’s shoulder. Sara and Heather joined in.
I let them read it because they were my family. I would’ve
showed it to them eventually anyway. I needed them.
Mom finished first. “You’re going to meet him, right?”
Heather, Liv and Sara turned to see my answer.
I shrugged. “Do you think I should?”
I took a drink. “It irritates me that he thinks I might not remember him. Like I could forget.” I gritted my teeth.
“I forgot who I slept with last week,” Sara said with a shrug. “But then between my ex and my three kids, I can’t remember what I ate for breakfast.”
I chuckled.
“If you don’t go, I will.
I want to hear what his
explanation
is,” Liv said, gulping down her drink and holding it out for my mom to refill it. Her cheeks were rosy. She was the lightweight in the family as well as the lush.
“I agree,” Sara said, walking into my tiny living room
and winding the tinsel on my bare Christmas tree.
My mom and Heather nodded in agreement.
“I’d go see him, Willow dear. He needs to know about Emma, take some responsibility.”
That made me angry.
“Why should he get to swoop in, pretend to be the hero, and have any part of her life? He missed the midnight feedings, the colic, the first time she smiled.”
My mom pushed the
thick auburn curls off my sweaty neck. “Is it fair that he’ll miss anymore? Especially with… you know… it’d be nice if Emma had her father around.”
I sighed. Tears filled my eyes. “What if I tell him and he doesn’t want her? What if he rejects us
, me, again? I-I don’t know if I can handle that.” I shook my head, sat down on my Christmas-themed slipcovered couch, and put my head in my hands.
My mom sat beside me. Sara sat on the other side. Heather and
Liv kneeled in front. I took in each of them, so grateful for my family. We’d survived without a father. Emma would survive too, especially if she kept these amazing women in her life.
“If he makes that decision, then he makes that decision. Then we’ll know for sure he’s a fucking idiot and we can move on,”
Liv said, pulling me into a hug.
“I’ll stay
tomorrow night and watch Emma. Then you won’t need to worry,” my mom said, wiping her eyes.
“Thanks mom.” I sniffled.
Heather stood. “’Kay, we’ve got wrapping to do and a movie to watch.”
“Right, let’s get to it,” Sara added.
After my mom and sisters left I read the email from Austin again. And again. And again. I also finished off my eggnog and had another. Not the smartest move with all of the medication I was taking, but Austin had thrown me for a loop. At two-thirty in the morning I responded:
Austin,
I’ll be there, but no funny business.
W.
Then I proceeded to wish I could take it back. How could I assume there’d be funny business? Of course there wouldn’t be. He left me, like, got out of my bed, walked out, and never came back. Why would I think he’d want more of that… more of what I had to offer? The stupid words ate at me until I finally fell asleep on the couch.
It seemed like moments later Emma’s cries woke me. I went into her little room. As soon as she saw me, she stopped crying and smiled.
That was all it took to change my mood. It didn’t matter if men didn’t find me attractive. It didn’t matter if the man I still loved rejected me. What mattered was the sweet girl smiling up at me from her crib.
I picked Emma
up and changed her. Then we went into the kitchen where I sat her in her bouncy chair, made her bottle, and turned on the coffee.
When the bottle was warm, I
went into the living room and sat in my favorite old wooden rocking chair. It was the same one my mother had rocked me in when I was a baby.
“You ready, Emma
girl?” I cooed.
She smiled and drank. Content. Her eyes held mine
and I wondered if she knew, if she understood how much I loved her, how I would do anything to protect her and keep her safe and happy. Anything within my power, anyway.
“Positive thoughts, Will,” I told myself in a soft voice.
Emma let go of the nipple and smiled as though encouraging.
“I can’t die, right? I have too much to live for.”
