Her Wish Before Christmas (Holiday Hearts) (6 page)

He brushed a hand down her cheek and wound a stray lock around his finger before letting the soft wave fall. The feel of the railing at her back told her she had nowhere to run. Her body begged her to take a step forward, to bridge the small gap between them.
No
. They couldn’t start up as if the last twelve years hadn’t happened. Sometimes you can’t go back and start over.

“I think I better get back to the store. I’ll just tell Jake bye and see you tomorrow.” A light push on his chest backed him up a pace, giving her room to leave. Her pulse jumped in response to the hard and fast beat of his heart and the desire to caress the solid wall of muscle under soft cotton was too strong not to indulge a moment before letting go.

His tug on her shoulder stopped her after two steps. If she looked at him, she would either cry or kiss him, and neither one was a good idea in front of Jake.

“We’re not done talking, Genny. I can’t here, right now. But please give me a chance.”

“I don’t think I can.” She fled the lot as tears won out.

***

The next day, Genny avoided Connor when he dropped Jake off. The store was flooded with customers throughout the day, and she was thankful for the mass of people buffering her from thoughts of him. There were still a half-dozen customers searching for that last-minute gift when he arrived to pick up his son. With a hug good-bye for Jake, she handed Connor a small gift on his way out.

“This is for your tree. Nona would have loved for you and Jake to have it.”

Connor opened the bag and pulled out the old star that used to grace the top of one of her grandmother’s Christmas trees.

“Are you sure?”

“I know you loved it, and we don’t have a tree for it this year. Have a Merry Christmas.”

“Let me take you to lunch tomorrow. I’ve signed Jake up for a hockey camp for a couple of hours. We need to talk.”

“We don’t need to talk. We’re fine.” If she said it often enough, she might start to believe it.

He ran a hand through his hair and pierced her with his gaze. She felt exposed, too open to his need. “Just a lunch. We don’t have to talk. Just eat. Like old friends.”

“Okay. Lunch. Nothing more.” A cautious spark of excitement flitted through her heart.

“Lola’s at eleven.”

“Okay.”

More customers interrupted them and by the time she finished with one, another needed her. They had done what their grandmother would have wanted them to. Camilla’s Collectibles was the focal point of the Christmas In The Square Festival.

Cilla had control over the store and didn’t need her. Jacqui and Lena were planning to stay around for a couple more weeks. Connor would line up a new nanny in no time. She didn’t need to stay.

Please give me a chance
.

Could she? She already loved Jake and her feelings for Connor hadn’t changed since he left. Could she open herself up to having her heart broken by the same man twice? What kind of fool would do that? She should take the job offer in St. Martin and get on with her life. But she’d agreed to have lunch with him.
Way to take a step forward, Genny
.

Don’t throw love away
. Another gem of Nona’s floated up to the surface of her consciousness to remind her again that her grandmother had shared so much wisdom with her granddaughters. The deep prick of loss stung as deeply as it had when she had first learned of Nona’s death.

Genny sighed as the voice of her grandmother filtered through her mind. Whether memories, imagination, or a true connection to her nona on the other side; Genny didn’t want to dwell on the particulars. She preferred to think she was still connected to the woman who had stepped in to fill the shoes of a parent when her father left. Even if she did get irritated at times.

I gave him every chance, and he left me
.

For once, Nona didn’t try to get in the last word. Maybe Genny was crazy. A sane person didn’t expect advice from a ghost.

“Hello, Earth to Genny. Time to lock up.” Cilla gave her shoulder a small shake. “Hey, did you hear me?”

“What?” Cilla’s face swayed a little in front of her eyes before steadying. She didn’t know how long she had been standing at the counter staring at the plate she was supposed to be loading with samples.

“It’s closing time. Are you okay?”

“Fine.” She tried for easy nonchalance, but Cilla’s eyes narrowed and her lips pursed in an I-don’t-believe-you-one-bit way.

“What happened? Did Connor say something?”

She might as well tell the truth. Lena and Jacqui were within earshot, tidying already neat merchandise and sending curious glances her way.

“We’re going to lunch tomorrow.”

Lena clapped her hands together like Nona used to do, except with a loud
woop
that would have had her giving them a lecture on manners.

“About time.”

Cilla’s mouth pursed tighter as she eyed Genny. Growing uncomfortable at the scrutiny, she slipped out from behind the counter but didn’t get far. Jacqui blocked her way to the back of the store.

“Not so fast. Are you sure you’re up for this?” Jacqui’s concern eased the pressure building in her chest. Her sister and her cousins loved her, but their nosiness and insistence on picking away at every detail of her life was one of the reasons she was thinking of leaving Laurel Cove.

“Of course. It’s just lunch with an old friend. Nothing more.” She even sounded confident. Too bad her bravado didn’t go further than pride demanding her words not waver.

Jacqui stepped aside. But then there was Lena and Cilla coming up behind her. She was the baby, and they took this overprotective sister and cousin thing seriously.

“We haven’t talked about Nona’s fortunes. And we need to. Hear us out, okay.” She couldn’t argue with the quiet sincerity in Lena’s request.

“Okay. I’ll hear you out. But I’m not going to believe in that silly fortune ever again.”

“That’s fair. Won’t work if you don’t believe anyway. So it’s up to you.” They were being way too reasonable about this. There had to be a catch somewhere.

After a quiet half hour going through the routine of closing the shop, the four of them were once again standing at the front door, ready to leave.

“First round’s on me,” Cilla said as she locked the door. “Nona would have been very proud of her store today. It was the hit of the festival.”

***

The pub was packed, but somehow Phil, the owner and longtime friend, found a quiet table for them in the back.

“Okay. What’s up? Why is everyone walking on eggshells around me all of a sudden?”

“What do you mean?” Lena asked. A questioning frown drew her eyebrows together, creasing her otherwise smooth features.

“You all are being way too reasonable and understanding.”

“We love you,” Cilla interjected.

“Yes, and you usually have no problem sticking your noses into my business.” Genny looked from Cilla and Lena across from her to Jacqui next to her at the small table. None of them could refute her statement. They ordered a round of the local Christmas ale on tap and waited for the waitress to leave. Tension blanketed the silence between the women. Genny was not going to ask again. They’d spill whatever was bothering them sooner or later. Hands clasped in her lap, she kept her mouth shut.

“Tell her, Cilla,” Lena snapped. Genny was always better at the quiet game.

“Cilla?” Genny asked, frowning at her sister’s worried expression.

“Weird things have been happening lately.” Her voice was low, almost a whisper. Genny would have laughed, but she could see by the tight set to her face that Cilla wasn’t joking.

Genny shivered as a chill settled over her. “What do you mean weird?”

Cilla slid a piece of paper she’d pulled from her purse across the table toward her. “I found this on my…on Nona’s…desk this morning.”

Three sets of gazes were glued to her.

“Stop creeping me out.” She picked up the creased note. “It’s a piece of Nona’s stationary. Not unusual to find in her office.”

“Just read it.”

The single sheet of cream-colored card stock with her grandmother’s initials scrolled across the top was folded in half. The ink was faint and hard to see in the dim light. Her fingers shook as she recognized her grandmother’s handwriting.

Don’t be afraid to wish the wish that’s in your heart. Each of you will find the love you are looking for
.

She could hear her grandmother telling them these exact words when they were begging her to tell them their love fortunes. Nona had acquiesced to their pleading only one time each, on their eighteenth birthdays. They wrote a secret wish on gold-foil paper and placed it in a bottle. The act was special and secretive and magical for an eighteen-year-old. Nona spoke a blessing in her ancestor’s language and then told them their fortunes.

That birthday had been such a special one for Genny. Nona had picked her up for a date, just the two of them. They baked the whole day. It was the happiest she could remember being, aside from the first time Connor told her he loved her.

Genny cleared her throat. “I miss her, too, but I don’t see how this is weird? She left you a note that you’re just now finding.”

“No. I packed up all her stationary and cleaned the office, and I know this was not there when we left last night.”

“You want to believe Nona’s contacting you from beyond the grave? Really? I thought you were the rational one.” No wonder they wanted to talk about her fortune. They all believed Nona was still with them. “The office was a mess, and you missed something, and now you are reading too much into it.” She might hear Nona’s voice in her head sometimes, but she didn’t
really
believe she was talking to her. Did she?

“You’re being obtuse.” Cilla’s eyebrows drew together and her frown deepened.

“That’s not the only thing weird. I’ve been dreaming about Nona every night since she died.” Lena’s soft confession shifted the conversation from the note to her.

“That’s not unusual, Lena.” Genny stated, hoping her tone would hold off the tide of woo woo that was coming.

“Why didn’t you say anything sooner?” Jacqui asked.

Lena squirmed in her seat. “I thought I was just missing her. But now, she’s always there. Talking to me, not in a scary way. It’s comforting. More like how I remember our conversations used to be.” She shrugged and closed her mouth into a tight line.

“What does she say?” Cilla asked.

Lena blushed and looked away. “She doesn’t really say anything. She…. Well…. Mostly just listens to me. And sends me memories. I think.”

“You remember almost everything already. Which memories does she send you?”

“Different things. My past boyfriends, my wish, and my fortune. And she sends me memories of all of us together, too. The happiest times. Before your mom went all crazy and when Dad was still around and we all loved being a family and were together.”

Genny was not going to confess she had secret conversations with Nona in her head. They were simply her imagination. If she believed in ghosts or whatever, she might be stupid enough to believe in fortune telling.
No. No. No. Not again
.

“I think we are all just mourning Nona in our own way. We miss her, and we want her to be with us again,” Genny said, around the tightening in her throat.

“She’s not gone. Stop talking about her like she’s gone.” Genny flinched as if slapped by Lena’s words.

They shared the pain the words came from. None of them wanted it to be true. But Nona was dead. And the sooner they dealt with reality, the better. She should take some of her own advice. Standing, she grabbed her jacket off the back of her chair. “I’m not talking about this anymore. I’ll see you in the morning.”

She left before any of them could ask her any more questions.
Damn
. Cilla was the practical one and she was thinking, what, Nona somehow wrote her a note from beyond the grave? Maybe someone was playing a trick on her? Whatever they were experiencing, it wasn’t their grandmother. Not for real.

Keep telling yourself that, and I really will go away
.

The pain that squeezed her heart at the quiet voice made her stumble.
Please, Nona, if it’s really you, tell me what I’m supposed to do
.

Genny swiped the back of her gloved fingers under her eyes at the tears that fell.

I love you
. Not an answer, but she felt better hearing it.

***

Genny stepped through the doors of Lola’s Italian Cuisine and froze. The dimly lit foyer led to a hostess stand that was the gateway to four rooms full of tables covered in crisp white tablecloths and a bud vase with a fresh flower in each. The plain cream walls had been covered with a collection of paintings the owners added to every year. All with the same theme—Italian countryside or still lifes of flowers and food. The quality of the paintings ranged from kids’ art projects to gallery-worthy local artists desperate for a venue. Some were even for sale. The atmosphere was warm and comforting, and the food had been a local favorite for over fifty years.

The young hostess standing at the podium held a menu in her hand and smiled. Genny couldn’t move. The smell of garlic and herbs, mingled with the aged scent of the wood paneling, enticed memories to surface. She let them pass as if catching up with an old friend where each story leads to another forgotten one.

Lola’s had been her family’s go-to place for everything from celebrations to game nights to prom dates. And she and Connor had more dates there than anywhere. Why hadn’t she been back since she’d been in town? This was why. Waves of unfiltered memories washed through her as every pent-up emotion she’d been struggling to rein in threatened to break free. Several deep breaths later, she sent an embarrassed nod to the hostess, who was looking at her like she was worried Genny was about to puke or pass out.

“I’m fine. I’m meeting someone.” Her voice struggled to work around the lump in her throat.

“Dr. O’Rourke?”

Dr. O’Rourke?
“Yes. Is he here?”