Holly Lane (13 page)

“I won him over on Destiny, didn’t I? Once he hated Destiny, but now he likes it just fine.”

Oh dear—sometimes Jenny could delude herself and needed Sue Ann to spell things out. “Um, those are two very different things, my friend. If he suddenly wakes up one day hating Destiny again, the two of you can move. But if he wakes up not wanting to have a kid—well, you can’t move away from your kid, or send it back. You kinda have to be sure about it.”

Across from her, Jenny let out a sigh, looking appropriately chastised. “I know. But . . . I’m just having maternal urges. Strong ones.”

“It’s because it’s Christmas,” Sue Ann assured her. “It seems fun to have a kid at Christmas. It
is
fun to have a kid at Christmas. Well, except for when she wants things you can’t possibly produce on Christmas morning, like reindeer. But my point is, maybe this will pass.”

Just then, Sophie and Amy appeared, exiting from between two tall aisles of wooden bookcases, Sophie carrying Dickens in her arms. The gray kitten purred contentedly, and Sophie grinned up at Sue Ann to say, “He likes me.”

And despite herself, Sue Ann couldn’t hold in a smile at the sweet sight. “Well, of course he likes you. How could he
not
like you?”

“Here’s the garland I told you about, Soph,” Amy said, pointing to a rope of twisted gold tinsel attached to the checkout counter. It hung down, loose, all the way to the floor.

In response, Sophie lowered the cat beside it and sat down on the hardwood floor as well. Then she reached out to shake the metallic garland, drawing the kitten’s attention until he began to bat at it, leaping from side to side and making them all laugh. “Silly kitty,” Sophie said, and Sue Ann could sense how drawn her daughter felt to the kitten, in a way that broke her heart.
Why do we all want so many things we can’t have?

“Oh no,” Amy said then from behind the counter, glaring at the floor as strawberry blond curls fell cutely around her face.

“What’s wrong?” Jenny asked.

Amy turned an accusing eye on Dickens, then spoke through clenched teeth. “Somebody broke into his box of Meow Mix when I wasn’t watching and made a big mess back here.” But then she sighed, reaching down to pick up the kitty, looking him in the eye. “It’s lucky you’re cute, mister, or you would be in
so
much trouble.”

“Mommy,” Sophie said then, “can we adopt Dickens? Like Rachel adopted Shakespeare and Tessa adopted Brontë?”

Oh boy. She should have seen this coming—yet her mind had been too occupied with other things. Her friends had just
had
to adopt Amy’s earlier strays, hadn’t they? She hesitated a beat too long, then formed an answer. “Oh, honey—I’m sorry, but no, we really can’t.”

Sophie’s face transformed into a large pout, her forehead wrinkling in distress. “Why not? All my friends have pets. Chloe at school has a cat named Whiskers. And Tiffany got a turtle for her birthday. And Jacob and Joey have Pepper.”

Sue Ann released a heavy breath. “Sophie, a pet is a big responsibility.”
One I just don’t think I can deal with right now.
“And a big expense.”
Another thing I don’t need at the moment.
“And soon, I’ll be working full-time, and I think a cat might get lonely being at home by himself all day.”
And this particular cat would probably vandalize the place.
“Maybe . . . in another year or two, honey, we can think about getting a cat. But not now.”

“But Dickens will be gone by then. Some other kid will get to adopt him.”

Sue Ann just sighed. She was tired. From everything. And there was a part of her that was almost tempted to say okay, that Sophie could have the cat, just because it would end the tension—and God knew the two of them were cute together—but then Jenny jumped in. “Your mom’s right, Sophie. Trouble gets really lonely when Mick and I aren’t there. That’s why he was so excited to see you last weekend—he spends a lot of long days by himself with no one to play with. You don’t want Dickens to be lonely, do you?”

“No,” Sophie said in a small, quiet voice.

Amy reached down to touch her shoulder. “And you can come visit him here as often as you want.” Then she glanced outside and—much to Sue Ann’s appreciation—changed the subject. “Look—it’s getting dark. I bet they’re getting ready to light the tree—we should probably all bundle up and head outside.”

“Good idea,” Sue Ann replied, reaching for the scarf and hat Sophie had tossed aside when they walked in. “Come here, you,” she said playfully to her daughter. “You can’t escape the scarf monster.” Then she circled the long scarf her mom had crocheted for Sophie around her daughter’s neck several times, almost covering her face with it, and making her laugh. Ah, that was music to Sue Ann’s ears.

And then Sophie launched in to telling everyone where Sue Ann’s scarf still happened to be—around the snow cat’s neck—and how she and Adam had built it the other day, just before he helped them trim the tree. Sue Ann and Jenny exchanged looks, but fortunately Amy didn’t notice, clearly thinking of Adam only as Sue Ann’s good friend and Sophie’s godfather.

By the time the four of them stepped outside and crossed the street to the town square, a crowd had gathered. Just like every year, a fifteen-foot cypress had been erected in the middle of the park-like area, specially ordered by Adam. Snow still carpeted the ground and people wore winter boots and coats along with hats and mittens. A few carried shopping bags from the stores situated around the square.

When Sue Ann spotted none other than Jeff and Veronica on the far side of the crowd, holding hands and looking ridiculously happy, she cringed on the inside, a little, the same way she always did. But it wasn’t as bad as usual—even if knowing they were married now seemed like that should have made it worse—and it helped that Sophie hadn’t seen them.

And Sue Ann had hoped to keep a low profile at the event, but that plan went awry when Amy said, “Follow me, I see a good spot!” and they all ended up at the front of the gathering, near the gazebo. After which a few people said hello or lifted their hands to wave in their direction, and . . . that was it.

After a few minutes Sue Ann realized that she didn’t feel nearly as weird as she’d expected. The newness of her divorce had finally worn off in people’s minds. Even with Jeff standing there in the very same crowd. And maybe the divorce was actually starting to wear off—a little—in her own mind as well; she’d been by herself now for nearly six months, after all.

And I’ve had sex now.
Twice.
I have a life again.
Sort of, anyway.
And maybe that was part of what took the edge off seeing Jeff tonight.

Still, that sex was fraught with so many mixed emotions that she could barely keep up with the constant push/pull of it in her own mind. In some ways, she still wished she could let herself trust in Adam and consider letting this thing with him go somewhere. If only she could get rid of the knot that formed in her stomach every time she remembered what he’d told her the other night. Make a mistake here and it could be critical, in so many ways. To trust her heart over her head would be no less than crazy.

And—think of the devil—that’s when she heard his voice. He was snapping at Chuck Whaley, who stood on a tall easel ladder next to the tree. “No, Chuck, not that string of lights—the other one, by your hand!”

She found him in the dusk and smiled inwardly, amused on some level to hear him still acting so Scroogy and un-Adam-like. Maybe since she’d been
feeling
Scroogy since June, yet thought she’d done a far better job hiding it than he did.

“Dude,” Logan Whitaker said then from the other side of the cypress, “relax. This is Destiny, not Rockefeller Center. People will wait if we’re a few minutes late.” Logan was a town fireman and Amy’s close friend, and he always seemed to have a hand in any Destiny event.

And that’s when Adam saw her, and their eyes locked across the fading, shadowy light.

And she remembered him moving in her, and touching her, and whispering all the right things. Not to mention giving her two orgasms. Again. And how it hadn’t been until much later that it had even hit her that she’d had sex in her driveway where any neighbor could have seen—even if it
had
been a quiet, snowy night out. She’d been that caught up in him.

Her gut clenched. Because she knew he was remembering it, too—the rawness of it, the passion that had somehow been both hot and pure, and that he was feeling it all again and with the exact same fierceness as her in that moment. His eyes told her so. Even through the darkening air. She’d seen Adam in a lot of dimly lit spaces lately, after all—and it didn’t seem to keep her from reading his thoughts.

She let out a breath. And wished like hell, just for a minute, that she didn’t know the secret about his divorce, and that she didn’t know he might testify for Jeff. Why did things have to be so complicated?

“Everybody ready to see this tree light up?” Logan called out then.

People in the crowd—mostly kids—answered or let out small cheers in the cold.

“Then let there be light!” he said, and the tall, majestic tree burst vividly to life with bulbs of crimson and green, blue and hot pink, amber and violet, lighting the night so brightly that she could no longer see Adam at all.

Ten

“Was it a dream or not?”

Charles Dickens,
A Christmas Carol

A
dam was sweating.
Probably from the itchy blanket
tied onto his head with a thin piece of rope from his dad’s garage.
Or the big, navy blue bath robe cinched onto him backward.
This was stupid.
How had he ended up stuck as Joseph in the Christmas pageant?

“It’s always an eighth grade boy,” Mrs. Wheeler had told him when he’d tried to shove the part off on a kid in the seventh grade who had longish hair and looked a lot more like Joseph to him—if you went by paintings he’d seen anyway.
“And you’ll be perfect in the role.”

His mom had liked the idea, too, and pressed him to do it, and next thing you know, he was sitting here on a stage behind a closed curtain, burning up in his father’s robe, listening to the Destiny Middle School chorus sing “Away in a Manger” and waiting for his big moment.

Well,
their
big moment.
Sue Ann Kinman sat next to him.
Her blanket and backward robe were both lighter shades of blue, typical Mary-wear, and a bald baby doll lay in a little wooden cradle in front of them.
He’d known Sue Ann since his family had moved here when he was in the third grade.
Mostly, he’d always thought she was a pushy, show-offy girl who never kept her opinion to herself.
But lately, she’d gotten kind of . . . pretty.
Especially in her cheerleading uniform.
She did the splits better than any girl on the squad.
He wasn’t supposed to be noticing junk like that; he was supposed to have his head in the game, being the quarterback, after all.
But sometimes he noticed.

“Are you nervous?” she whispered now.

“No.”
Then he revised his answer.
“A little, I guess.
Why?”

She shrugged her shoulders, all confidence.
“You just look sorta nervous, that’s all.
Joseph shouldn’t be nervous.”

Nervous, huh?
Her attitude irritated him.
But at the same time, when she’d looked at him, that blond hair curving around her face under the blue blanket, her cheeks smooth and silky, her lips forming the slightest of pouts, he kind of felt it in his pants.
That had been happening a lot lately—not just with Sue Ann, but all the time.

That’s when impulse struck.
He’d show her nervous.

And without an ounce of hesitation, he leaned over and kissed her.
He didn’t know how to kiss—he’d never kissed anyone before—but he’d had the sudden urge to do it.

She stiffened at first, clearly shocked.
But then she seemed to relax, and he just held his mouth there, puckered, on hers, for long enough to make sure they both felt it.
And wow—he felt it all right, racing through his veins like electric.

What he felt afterward, though, was a little light-headed.
And she
looked
a little light-headed.

“Why’d you do that?” she asked.
She was trying to act mad, but he knew she’d liked it.
Her voice was all breathy, her face flushed.

“I’m supposed to be your husband, right?
Just getting into my role.
Getting those nerves out,” he told her.

She simply looked at him, eyes big and round and brown on his, lips now in the shape of a delicate O.
That’s when he grew aware of Jenny Tolliver’s voice coming through a microphone just beyond the closed curtain:
“For unto you this day, in the city of David, is born a savior . . .
”

And the curtain opened.

And he really wasn’t nervous anymore.

He was too busy still feeling his first kiss.

Adam jerked awake in bed. A glance at the digital clock on the nightstand told him it was morning and he’d overslept. He was sweating like crazy. And his head itched. He reached up to make sure there wasn’t a scratchy blanket tied there.

Okay, just hair.
Get hold of yourself.
It was a dream
.

A good dream.

But more like a memory.

He’d never had that kind of dream, though, a dream that perfectly mirrored something that had happened in the past—let alone taken him back to the exact feelings he’d experienced when it had really taken place. Events were easy to remember. But maybe the feelings that came with them . . . faded over time; maybe they felt . . . less significant than when they happened.

Truly, until this moment, he’d not remembered—or at least he hadn’t thought about it in many years—that his first kiss had actually been with Sue Ann on that hot stage in those ridiculous blankets and robes.

Damn—how had he forgotten something like that?

Maybe because they’d never thought of each other romantically since then. Hell, they’d never even talked about it. They’d sat quietly through their manger scene, all eyes upon them—and then it had been over, the Christmas pageant and the kiss. Could be that he’d pondered it more right after—but soon enough, he’d gotten bolder with other girls, too, and Sue Ann had ended up dating Jeff after they all moved on to Destiny High. He’d gotten to know her as his best friend’s girl, and to like her as a person, and for his entire adult life—until Thanksgiving weekend—that’s how he’d seen her: as his friend Sue Ann.

But that dream just now had reminded him that—wow, it had actually been a pretty great moment. He’d felt that kiss all the way to his toes, for God’s sake. And definitely in his groin.

And now he couldn’t help but wonder . . .

Had it been even more important than he realized? After all, why would he dream about it now?

But okay, maybe in a way that made sense—now that he’d been intimate with her, maybe his body, his brain, was recalling that it wasn’t the first time they’d kissed.

Still . . . could something bigger be happening? Was it a sign, this reminder that his very first kiss had been with Sue Ann?

Then he shook his head against the pillow and let out a low, tired groan. Since when was he the kind of guy who believed in things like signs?

He wasn’t.
Must be the stress getting to you.
The stress of missing his kids. Of having told Sue Ann his biggest secret, how his marriage had ended. And now, too, having this question hanging over his head about testifying on Jeff’s behalf.

He still hadn’t decided if he felt obligated to do what Jeff had asked of him. While the guy was still technically his best friend, he’d changed lately, and Adam had barely spoken to him since he’d left Sue Ann. But on the other hand, they’d grown up together, and even if Jeff was behaving selfishly right now, he had to believe the good guy he’d always known was still inside him somewhere. You didn’t just throw a lifetime of friendship away over six months of decisions you didn’t necessarily agree with.

But that aside, he couldn’t exactly blame Sue Ann for not wanting to be with him. Whether or not he condoned Jeff’s behavior, the two of them were friends, the long-lasting kind. And after what she knew about his divorce now . . . well, she was probably thinking that birds of a feather sure as hell seemed to flock together. All of which probably accounted, at least in part, for why he’d been in an even worse mood since their second hot encounter.

She’d stayed on his mind these last couple of days—hell, these last couple of weeks. And when he’d seen her the other night at the tree lighting ceremony, he’d felt that intense need gathering inside him again, that fast.

The phone rang then, and he thought it might be the twins—it was about time for their usual morning call. Even though Jacob and Joey lived with him for only half of each week, his house had felt depressingly quiet without them around. So it disappointed him to see on the caller ID that it wasn’t them—and perplexed him as well to see it was Caroline Meeks, a local woman involved in a lot of Destiny community groups and activities. He knew Sue Ann and her friends sometimes socialized with Caroline, even though she was a bit older than their crowd.

He picked up the receiver. “Hello?”

“Adam, it’s Caroline Meeks. Sorry to call so early, but . . .”

“No problem, Caroline. What can I do for you?”

“Well, I’m glad you asked. Because I need a favor.”

Uh-oh. This sounded like trouble already. His reply came a little more hesitant this time. “Um, what kind of favor?”

“Are you free Friday night?”

What on earth was this about? “Uh, can I ask why?”

“Well, it’s Santa Comes to Destiny Night—you know, in the basement at the church? We host it every year for all the kids in town—it’s their chance to see Santa right here at home. And usually Grampy Hoskins is our Santa, but he forgot and planned a visit to his sister upstate and couldn’t reschedule. So your mother suggested that you might be kind enough to take over for him.”

Huh.
Thanks, Mom.
First Joseph, now this. “Ya know, Caroline,” he said, “I’m not sure I’d make the best Santa. I’m not fat. Or old. And . . . I don’t look good in fur. I mean, out of all the men in Destiny, surely there’s somebody else who would do a better job.”

On the other end of the line, Caroline went silent, then sighed. And Adam’s stomach churned. He could almost hear it coming. And then there it was. “The truth is, Adam, I’ve scoured this town from top to bottom and no one will do it. You’re my last hope. You wouldn’t want to let down the kids, would you?”

“M
ommy, look!” Sophie said on a gasp as they stepped inside. The basement of the Destiny Church of Christ had been transformed into a winter wonderland. Of course, here, the snow was fluffy cotton quilt batting with a little silver glitter sprinkled here and there—and big snowflakes constructed from silver cardboard hung on strings from the ceiling. One of Sue Ann’s favorite Harry Connick, Jr. songs, “Must Have Been Ol’ Santa Claus,” boomed from a CD player, adding to the upbeat holiday mood in the room.

Brightly decorated cookies and cupcakes filled two tables, and her friend Rachel stood behind another with her grandma, Edna Farris, handing out slices of Edna’s famous apple pie. Kids and adults alike mulled about, and Sue Ann was surprised to see that even Jenny and Mick were here. She lifted a hand to Rachel in a wave, then made her way over to Jenny. “Come to sit on Santa’s lap?” she asked Jen.

“Wow,” Jenny said, wide-eyed.

“Wow what?”

Jenny tilted her head. “You sound . . . almost like your old self.”

Hmm. Now that Jenny mentioned it, maybe she did sound more like the fun-loving, slightly sarcastic woman she used to see in the mirror. Maybe there for a minute she’d actually gotten caught up in the holiday cheer and forgotten her troubles. “Well, don’t get too used to it—I’m sure it’ll pass.” Though even that, she realized, had come out with a familiar old jocularity she hadn’t felt in a while.

That’s when Mick landed a hand on Jenny’s shoulder to say, “Uh, my wife won’t be sitting on anybody’s lap this Christmas but mine.”

“Well, if you didn’t come for Santa,” Sue Ann asked, “what brings you to the festivities?”

“My dad volunteered me to hand out candy to the kids,” Jenny explained. Her father, Walter Tolliver, was Destiny’s chief of police and this particular town event was one he personally helped organize each year.

“And he volunteered me for some heavy lifting,” Mick added.

Jenny pointed toward the group of children waiting to see Santa. “Looks like Sophie’s already grabbed her place in line. And by the way,” she said, lowering her voice as she leaned nearer, “
you
might want to sit on Santa’s lap this year.”

Sue Ann just blinked, confused, and was about to tell Jenny she wasn’t
that
hard-up, when Sophie called, “Mo-ommm, come on!”

“I’ll . . . catch up with ya later,” she told Jen, then hurried to find Sophie in line. Reaching her, she stooped down to help her daughter get unbuttoned from her coat, but left on her hat and scarf because they’d coordinated them with her outfit and Sophie wanted them in the picture. “Santa’s going to think you’re the prettiest little girl ever,” she said to her daughter with a smile, and the grin she got in return made her feel like everything was going to be all right.