Where the Heart Is, page 7
“Yeah… me too. I’ve missed her.”
He paused. “I’m glad you’re still close.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Dad, are you getting at something?”
“Forget it.” He turned away, but I moved in front of him.
“What? Tell me, or I’m going to be a nervous mess worrying about it.”
“It’s nothing to worry about.”
“Then you can tell me.”
He rubbed his forehead, giving me a tired look. “I’m just worrying about you, is all. Your mother and I haven’t ever known you to be in a serious relationship with anyone, and we just want you to be happy.”
I blinked fast. “Where… is this coming from?”
He looked away. “Just… you know, everything with me and your mom…” He sighed, squaring his shoulders with me, and he gave me a serious look. “I know this is rough. Your mother and I didn’t want to put you through this.”
“I don’t—”
“But I don’t want you to come out of it thinking something like you should never get married, or… or that it’s going to go like this. I’m still glad I met your mother. And glad we had the three of you. You shouldn’t have to miss out on that opportunity.”
I shook my head, a thick feeling in my throat. “Dad—I don’t feel like I shouldn’t get married or anything. I just haven’t found the right person.”
He nodded. “You haven’t, then?”
“No? Is that what this is about? You’re wondering if I have some… some kind of secret relationship?”
“I’m just checking in. We want to support you. With anyone at all.” He paused. “Well, as long as they treat you right.”
“Um… thanks. I’ll let you know.”
He nodded, a little too enthusiastic for the conversation to end, and he turned away. “Well, see you in a second for the great expedition!” he said, turning the handle and walking inside, leaving me in the cold, where children’s laughter drifted down from the square and the wind rang silver bells along the shopfronts.
He’d emphasized with anyone at all a little too much. And he hadn’t said anything about a man. If that conversation had come from talking about Abigail… the desk staffer had thought Abigail and I were dating. Was Dad just checking to make sure I wasn’t dating Abigail?
Well, given the way he’d said it, it sounded like he wouldn’t have even minded if I were. It wasn’t what I would have guessed from the guy, but… really, how much did I even know him? It felt like I was only just finding out who he was.
He’d… probably just heard Clarissa talking about me and Abigail getting married. Still, I thought I’d have a shot at treating Abigail better than that Scottish guy.
Well—would I? I had let us drift apart over the years. Maybe I would just hurt her, too. I pushed the thought aside, heading back into the hustle and bustle of the lodge.
It was a swirl of chaos getting ready to head out with everyone, and the tension bubbling up between family members hadn’t gone down a bit. Faith refused to go—I wouldn’t have dreamed of kicking up a fuss like her, but I was kind of relieved that she was—and eventually Grandpa was persuaded into dropping it. We eventually grouped up with Abigail, bright-eyed at my side after coming back down from cheering up Faith, and Mom and Dad squeezed all happy-family style in with us, even though Clarissa insisted on linking hands with me and Abigail. I hardly minded. Clarissa felt like a daughter to me, and Abigail would have made a good mother to raise a little angel like Clarissa with.
The three of us talked and laughed the whole time, making up for Mom’s and Dad’s awkward silence, as we headed down the street and crossed the little village over to the shopping center. It stood apart from everything else a little, the biggest building in Bellsford and the most modern, with tall windows lined with white lights and a tile floor that had a two-story Christmas tree in the center, Christmas music playing through the speakers. Grandpa gathered us all and shouted an itinerary for all of us, emphasizing until I thought he’d shout us deaf that we had to be back at the entrance at noon to regroup for a special event. The only special event I needed was a little breathing room, and I know Abigail was thinking the same thing, judging by the vaguely distressed look on her face.
Finally, though, the group scattered, heading out to the different shops all lined up along the place, and Mom took Clarissa’s hand.
“Hey, sweetie, let’s head upstairs. That candy shop you were excited about is up there.”
Clarissa pressed up against her side, giving her puppy-dog eyes. “Can Abigail come with us? I want to get her a surprise.”
I laughed awkwardly. “Abigail’s a little tired—”
“Too tired for a surprise?” Abigail put a hand on her hip, smiling at me. “I’m never turning down a surprise from Clarissa.”
Mom smiled, the kind of sweet and genuine smile that was nice seeing from her more often these days. “Of course Abigail can come, honey. I’m sure she’ll love your surprise. Will you be okay, Stella?”
“Mom, I’m an adult. I can handle myself.” I nudged Abigail’s side. “You’ll have to tell me about your surprise later, though.”
“I will.” Her eyes sparkled as she took a step towards Mom and Clarissa. “See you in a bit, Stella.”
Dad got dragged off with Aunt Georgia’s husband Mike, which left me to wander the place alone, and honestly, it was nicer than I’d expected. Not just for the quiet, and the fact that now I could get Abigail a present and make her squirm because she’d never been good at getting gifts, but just getting to walk slowly and take it all in—it wasn’t often I let myself do that. And this was a magical place to do it.
I stopped into a few places, watching my wallet and getting small things for my aunts and uncles, grabbing something generic for Tanner just because it had his name on it and I knew that was rare, and I stopped into a tiny chocolatier’s place to look for a nice safe bet for Mom. It was a small place, cozy and smelling impossibly good, where I browsed old wooden shelves stocked with delicately presented gift boxes, and I was so busy admiring the shiny packaging and the intricate chocolate designs that I turned a corner and bumped straight into someone.
“Oh—I’m so sorry,” I blurted, stepping back, and I stopped when I gave him a second look—a tall man with a neat beard, a twinkle in his eyes. “Oh… you’re the one from the lodge.”
Charlie laughed, a smile on his lips. “Ah, spotting me outside of the workshop. I thought my elf invisibility was still holding up.”
I smiled. “Out of curiosity, how old do you think I am?”
“If we can’t maintain the magic with adults, we can’t do it with kids.”
I laughed, shaking my head. “Anyway, thanks for the recommendation. Abigail and I loved the place.”
He gave me another knowing smile. I guess it was just a thing in Santa business. “I’m glad. Got something good for your mom?”
“Abigail and I picked out a perfume. But it might be a little risky, so she decided we should get her some chocolates, as a safe bet… hence why I’m here. Any recommendations?”
He smiled wider. “She definitely seemed to like the peppermint hot cocoa I whipped up yesterday. Melinda here makes these dark-chocolate balls with candy-cane pieces that are incredibly decadent but just right for a special occasion. That’s my recommendation.”
I dropped my arms by my sides. “How do you even know the right chocolate for my mom? Are you magic?”
He shrugged, picking up a tray of caramel chocolate truffles, turning them over and reading the back. “Not to spoil the whole thing, but I’m not actually an elf. I’ve just spent some time in customer service. You learn to pick up a thing or two about a person… and then just a few clever moves are like magic.” Seemingly satisfied with the truffles, he nodded to himself, holding them by his side. “I’m sure you could pull out something for Abigail that feels like magic, couldn’t you?”
“Oh, um…” I looked away, suddenly a little shier than I needed to be. It was just Abigail… “I mean, I guess when you put it that way.”
“Loving attention is the real magic, Christmas magic or otherwise. And as for what you want to get Abigail here—I think that’s something best for you to answer.”
I flushed. “Ugh. I was on the fence. You don’t think it’s too cheesy?”
He smiled wider. “She would absolutely love it. I get that feeling from her.”
“Jeez… thanks. I appreciate the recommendation.” I paused, looking down at the chocolates. “For you?”
He looked away. “Ah… well, maybe we can be even. There’s someone around here I like. I know it can’t work, but I can at least gift chocolates.”
So he was a human being. How about that. I let my shoulders drop, relaxing a little. “That’s sweet, though. I’m sure they appreciate you however the chips fall.”
He laughed. “We’ll see about that. I’ll let you pick out Abigail’s gift. Have a good day, Stella.”
“See you around, Charlie.”
It took me about five more minutes of shopping, browsing the shelves with a pep in my step, before it hit me what he’d said.
We can be even? With me knowing about his crush? What did that mean? Did he still think Abigail and I were something more than—
Whatever. Abigail liked marzipan. I was finding her something fancy with marzipan and chocolate.
Chapter 8
Abigail
I would never have guessed what the surprise from Clarissa was. With the way she took the bag of chocolate coins from the shelf and half-hid them behind her side, giggled wildly, and whispered something to Julia where I heard her say my name, and then gave me about thirty-five furtive looks over her shoulder, I never in my life would have guessed the surprise she gave me once we left the shop: a bag of chocolate coins. I gasped, pretending I’d never seen them in my life.
“Oh, wow!” I took them like it was the best thing I’d ever seen. “Oh my god, I love them!”
She thrust her chest out, chin up in the air. “It’s because you study money!”
“Ah… yes. Studying money. That’s what I do. Oh, I just love them. Thank you, Clarissa.”
She beamed. “You’re going to make a lot of money one day, right?”
“Um… you know, that’s the hope, if nothing else.”
“Clarissa,” Julia said, putting a hand on her shoulder, but she was badly stifling laughter.
“Thanks for the gift,” I said, and Julia smiled sweetly at me.
“Were you thinking of somewhere else now?”
I shoved my hands in my pockets. “Ah… maybe the bookstore? I think I might be able to grab Stella something there. Never going to compete with her gift-giving game, though.”
“It’s not a competition, and you know it. Do you want us to come with, or leave you to it?”
“Oh, definitely come with. I need all the help I can get making sure I don’t get her a book she already has.”
The bookstore was a charming place, a local shop that smelled like vanilla and oak, and the shelves were squeezed so tight together we had to walk single-file through it. It was halfway through scanning the options, Clarissa sitting in the kids’ corner reading a big book, that Julia sidled closer to me and spoke quietly.
“You miss it, don’t you?”
I stared at the book I was flipping through, pausing on one page, before I looked at her. “Uh… detective novels?”
“Scotland.”
“Ah.” A conversation I didn’t want. My favorite. I shut the book and slid it back onto the shelf. “I do. But I’m… glad to be home.”
“Hm…” She kept her gaze fixed on the shelf, but I could see she was staring through it, off to infinity. The nerves churned in my chest, and I couldn’t help it.
“Er… why?”
“Stella and I were talking about it yesterday. Just that you seem like… like there’s something missing. Like something’s not right. I was just wondering if it was that you miss Scotland.”
This was grand… I didn’t want to get into telling her about the breakup. I didn’t trust her to not ask too many details like I did Stella, and complaining about a breakup to someone going through a divorce made me feel like a tool. “Well…”
“You know, when I was your age, I took a trip to California,” she said, her voice small, distant. The way she was looking off into space, I could tell she was seeing California, not the shelf in front of her. “The coast, the sun, the… the people. It all felt so different, so magical. I left a piece of my heart there. I felt a bit hollow when I came back.” She looked down, coming back to Bellsford. “I was wondering if maybe it was similar.”
“I don’t know…” I turned back to the shelf, running my fingers along the spines, feeling the coarse texture of the book covers. “I loved the place. And I’m glad I went, and I miss the sceneries, and I miss the things I got to do there, and I miss the people. But… it wasn’t home. I don’t feel like I left part of myself there.”
She gave me an odd look. “You know, you don’t have to pretend to be okay if you’re not.”
I gave her a light smile. “Same goes to you, Miss Jackson.”
“Ha. I mean it, though.”
“And so do I.” I shrugged. “I loved it there, but at the end of the day, I belong over here, on this side of the pond.”
It felt like the wrong answer—the troubled look she had, turning back to the bookshelf—but… maybe it wasn’t me.
“I’m glad you’re happy being back here,” she said, finally. “It’s good to see you again. Stella’s missed you.”
Yeah, so Clarissa had been telling me. Along with some other things. “Thank you. I’ve missed her too.”
And she didn’t need to know anything more than that.
It was a while longer of browsing before I felt my breath catch, taking down a beautifully decorated book with shimmery gold on the page edges. A classic Sherlock Holmes book, illustrated throughout with expressive pencil-sketch pages. “Stella still likes to draw in her free time, right?” I said quietly. “I’ve seen her still posting her doodles up on Instagram.”
Julia snorted. “As if she’d give her mother her Instagram page. You’re the one who’s been stalking it.”
“Uh—” I paused mid-page-flip. “I mean, I just see her pop up on my feed occasionally, is all.”
She smiled wider. “That’s a good call, though. I bet she’d love it.”
The clerk at the register gushed about the special edition while she wrapped the book up in tissue paper, and at Julia’s subtle request, I took Clarissa out to sit on the bench overlooking the Christmas tree in the center from the second floor, sharing snacks with her, while Julia bought the book Clarissa had dolefully put back on the shelf like she was saying goodbye to a lover on our way out. Clarissa kicked her feet below the bench, popping chocolate-coated raisins, and she beamed at me.
“Do you think Mommy’s buying me a present?”
The girl was getting a little too sharp. I shrugged. “Who knows? She probably just needed some time to browse in private. Sometimes books speak to you in a way you have to be alone to understand.”
She frowned, looking at her raisins. “If the books are talking to you, I think that’s called a delusion.”
“Okay, you,” I laughed, ruffling her hair. “I don’t even want to know where you picked that one up.”
She beamed. “Mommy calls Daddy delusional a lot.”
Ah. What a cheerful way to deliver that gut punch. I strained a smile, and I think Clarissa picked up on it, because she pouted.
“They’re fighting a lot lately… I don’t want Mommy to live somewhere else.”
I put a hand on her shoulder, my heart aching for her looking all precious and timid like this. “Change is scary sometimes… I get it.”
She looked up at me. “Do your mommy and daddy fight a lot, too?”
I cast my gaze out straight ahead again, feeling a spiritual sigh deep in my body. “Don’t know… I don’t really talk to them much these days.”
She looked heartbroken, the poor little thing. “You don’t talk to them? Don’t you get lonely?”
“Yeah… sometimes.”
“What about your brothers and sisters?”
“Don’t have any. Just the three of us.” I put on a smile, nudging her side. “But hey, I’ve got you. And your mommy and daddy are just like parents to me too. And I have friends.”
She beamed. “And you have your wife!”
“Uh—” I felt my face prickle. The elderly couple at the table close by looked over at us, and I shrank into myself. “Clarissa, let’s not shout things like that out loud.”
She frowned. “Why?”
“Some things are private. Also… Stella and I aren’t married. Sorry.”
She continued as if I hadn’t said a thing, popping a raisin. “Do you think you and Stella would have kids?”
I cleared my throat. “We are just friends, and you don’t typically have kids with your friends.”
She gave me a dubious look, but she turned back to her raisins. “I bet you wouldn’t fight like Mommy and Daddy.”
I sighed, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Hey, Clari… your mommy and daddy don’t fight because they don’t love each other,” I said, dropping my voice. “They fight because sometimes when you love someone a lot, it makes it hard to think straight. And then sometimes, when you have two people who love each other a lot, they might change in different ways to the point where they just… aren’t right to be together anymore, but because they love each other still—and because the world tells us there’s a right and a wrong way to be in love—they might fight a lot. But… if two people would be happiest away from each other, then going away from each other is also a way of showing them love.”
“Mm…” She looked down. “But that sounds sad.”
“It can be really sad. And life has a lot of sad moments. But…” I gestured with my foot, pointing through the railing towards the Christmas tree. “Look at that tree. It’s pretty, right? With all its lights?”
“Mm.” She nodded.
