Unwritten (23 page)

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Authors: M.C. Decker

BOOK: Unwritten
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I couldn’t help but laugh at Rich’s error. “First, it’s
Home Alone
and no, no ice skating. I’ve just always dreamt of skating in Central Park. And, we’re also so close to the zoo.”

“Well, I’m not sure if we’ll have time to make it to the zoo. If memory serves, it closes fairly early in the winter. But, I do have another surprise planned for this evening.”

Rich and I rented skates and glided over the ice for several hours. The snow started coming down more heavily as the afternoon flew by. After I was certain that my nose was going to fall off, Rich pulled me into a warm embrace. I gazed into his eyes and knew he was going to come in for a kiss. In that moment, I desired his kiss more than my next breath, but instead of letting my heart win, my head pulled away from Rich’s arms. “
Just colleagues,”
my inner voice whispered.

Although no words were spoken between us, the carefree atmosphere that had lingered between us all day began to fade away. I had ruined what would have been the most beautiful and romantic kiss in the middle of the Wollman Rink in Central Park.

If our lips had met, the falling snow would have coated us both in a light dusting. My already rosy cheeks would have further flushed as a result of his tongue dancing with mine. But, I had ruined that picture-perfect moment. Instead, I just wanted to go back to my room and sulk.
Why do I have to be so damn stubborn?

Even though I wanted to head back to the suite, Rich wouldn’t hear of it. He may have lost some of his earlier, carefree spunk, but he was still determined to show me the “right way to play hooky.”

“If you’re gonna be a slacker and play hooky, you might as well do it up right,” he kept saying.

“Go big, or go home,” I added.

We grabbed hot cocoas and hot dogs, minus the pickles for me, from a street vendor, before Rich waved down a cab to take us the few blocks to his surprise destination.

I laughed to myself when I realized we were stopping at Rockefeller Center. “Hey, this one is in the movie,” I said, as I lightly nudged him in the side.

“I figured. Any Christmas movie set in NYC has to include the tree here.”

It really was beautiful. As I stood there in Rockefeller Plaza looking up into the tree, illuminated by thousands of tiny white lights, I began thinking about how perfect this day had been. I didn’t want to leave because I was afraid of what tomorrow might bring. I didn’t want to think about Rich’s possible relationship with Janine, my career, or my reservations about us. I just wanted to stay here with Rich – forever.

I
was lucky that as a new reporter I was able to get the holiday off, but I think I was getting a little special treatment from Rich. Under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t appreciate his giving me this special treatment, but I was so thankful to be going home that I was willing to let it slide just this once.

I was so excited to be going home for a few days to celebrate Christmas with my dad, Cass and Kaitlyn. Although I had just spent time with the girls, I hadn’t seen my dad in almost two months; although we talked almost every day, I still missed him like crazy. I also couldn’t wait to give Kaitlyn the teddy bear I bought her while in New York.

I chuckled at the memory of Rich taking me to the final destination on our trip before we headed back to the airport on our last day in New York City. When I walked into FAO Schwarz, I felt like a kid in a candy store.

“I googled that Duncan’s place you mentioned, but I didn’t come up with anything. I figured this was the next best option,” Rich said, as I stared in amazement.

We walked around for at least an hour looking at the aisles upon aisles of dolls, puzzles, games, remote-controlled cars, stuffed animals and action figures. I finally settled on the famous store’s signature teddy. I knew Kaitlyn would be beyond thrilled with her gift.

After sliding the last of my gingerbread men into the oven and with my dad stringing lights on the tree, I began to fantasize about what I’d be doing now if Rich were here with me. We’d probably spend most of the day at the mall Christmas shopping for our families. He’d make me sit on Santa’s lap; then we’d stop at the Christmas tree farm to chop down the perfect Fraser fir just like the Griswold family. (
I can’t help it; I’m a sucker for classic holiday flicks).
Granted, it would look nothing like the tree we saw at Rockefeller Center, but it would be our tree.

We’d come home and sit in front of the glistening evergreen, while sipping on my dad’s specialty hot chocolate. I was always so disappointed as a kid when I had to drink the powdered stuff while all of the adults got to drink his “special” recipe. Little did I know, until many years later, that he always added a dash (more if we were on Santa’s Nice List) of peppermint schnapps to the adult version.

We’d end the night, cuddling on the couch munching on popcorn balls and homemade sugar cookies, while we watched my all-time favorite holiday film,
Holiday Inn—
not
the colorized version either, but the original black-and-white film starring Bing Crosby and Fred Astaire. It was one of my mom’s favorites, and we watched it as a ritual every season while we decorated the tree, or wrapped gifts.

After the movie, Rich would take me upstairs where he would unwrap the gift that I would wear and had purchased especially for him – a black lace nightie with a red ribbon tied in a loose bow right under my breasts. …

The oven’s timer announced that the cookies were done and snapped me out of my Rich-induced reverie. Just as I was slipping on my oven glove, my dad sauntered into the kitchen. I saw his hand grab one of the cookies that were already cooling on the counter.

“You know you have the same eyes as your mother? I could always tell when something was bothering her – just like I can tell that something is bothering you right now. What’s going on in that pretty, little head of yours, Brooke?” he asked.

“It’s nothing, Daddy, really. Let’s just eat the cookies I baked and watch a movie, or something. I bet if we surf through enough channels we will come across
Elf
. Oh … or we can always watch that old VHS copy of
Christmas Eve on Sesame Street
.”

No matter my age, I would never be too old to watch Big Bird trying to figure out how Santa Claus fits down that “skinny, little chimney.”
Rich was right, I was a nine-year-old girl, trapped in a grown woman’s body.

“I do love Buddy the Elf, but right now I really think we should talk, baby girl. Is it that boy from college, that editor of yours?” Dad asked caringly.

“How – how do you know? Let me guess? Cassidy has been feeding you the gossip, eh? How much has she told you?” I questioned.

“Not too much, just that you are being stubborn as usual. You get that from your mother, too, you know?” Dad said.

“I just can’t, Dad. You know how much this job means to me. I’ve finally made it. After all these years, I’m there. I’m at the
Washington Post.”

“Yes, Brooke, and I’m so proud of you for that, but I can tell in your eyes that something is missing. Maybe you should give it a try. What’s the worst that can happen?”

“I could lose it all. I could lose my job and I could lose Rich. At least this way, I get to keep my job.” I answered dad’s question as truthfully as I could.

“Or, you could keep your job and live happily ever after with the man of your dreams.”

“Did you just watch
Beauty and the Beast
with Kaitlyn, Daddy? You sound like freakin’ Walt Disney.”

He laughed before adding, “No, Brooke, I’m being serious. It already sounds like you think that you and this Rich fellow would fail. Why do you think that?”

“I don’t know, Dad. I guess I don’t think that; I’m just afraid, that’s all.”

“Do you remember that saying that’s framed in your old man’s office?” he asked.

“Of course, I do. Mom and I had it framed for you as a Father’s Day gift when I was just a kid. She said it was always one of your favorite quotes. I remember we even wrapped and hid it, but you still managed to open and rewrap it before I gave it to you. You never were one for surprises.”

My dad laughed, before adding, “But, do you remember what it says, Brooke?”

“Yeah, if I remember right it was something Bobby Kennedy said, ‘Only those who dare to fail greatly can ever achieve greatly.’”

“Yes, that’s exactly it, Brooke. You need to dare, take a leap, do what’s in your heart because it could be great. And, if it’s not, then you have gained vast experience already in your short time with the
Post
. Other superb newspapers in the country would want you in a heartbeat.”

I sat there for a minute in silence, really thinking about what my dad was saying. After what felt like several minutes, I finally nodded my head in agreement. “You’re right, Daddy. I need to give this a chance. I need to give Rich a chance. Thank you.” With that, I rose from the couch and walked over to my dad to give him the biggest hug. “Really, thank you, Daddy.” I said lovingly.

“Anything for you, honey – anything for you.”

“OK, enough of this gooey sh – show of emotion,” I added with a giggle.

“So, I guess the movie of choice tonight is actually
Home Alone
, huh,” questioned my dad, with some disappointment in his voice.

“Can you believe Rich has never watched
Home Alone
?”

“Well, we’ll need to make sure he’s here next year to watch it with us then, won’t we?” My dad said, with some sarcasm in his voice.

“Whatever, Dad, you know you love it as much as I do,” I chuckled back.

“If you say so, Brooke, if you say so,” he said, shaking his head.

With that, my dad and I did settle on the Macaulay Culkin classic that I remembered watching for the first time at the theater with him when I was only about nine. So much had changed since then, but I was still thankful for the time we shared and the advice he was still able to give me these many years later.

Cass was delighted to hear that my dad had finally been able to talk some sense into me. She insisted on taking me to Victoria’s Secret on the day after Christmas to shop for some sexy lingerie.

“He can’t see the same old stuff, Brooke. Besides, their semi-annual sale starts today. You can’t pass up BOGO panties.”

“Did you really just say, BOGO? You really have been watching too many TV commercials. You know you can fast forward through that shit these days, right? Welcome to the twenty-first century, Cass.” I said with a giggle.

“Whatever, don’t change the subject, bi-atch,” she exclaimed while giving me the finger. “Now, we are finding you the sexiest outfit, so you can bang, err ring, in the New Year in style.” She got this wild look in her eyes before adding, “Oooooh, or we can skip the lingerie store all together and head straight for the adult store, maybe even pick you up a naughty nurse outfit, or a Playboy bunny … the possibilities are endless,” Cass added.

“OK, OK. I’ll agree to the new lingerie, but stay classy, Cass – Victoria’s Secret ONLY.” I made sure to emphasize the “only” so she wouldn’t get any more over-the-top ideas.

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