Christmas Snow Page 9

There had been a time when she would have joined in with this kind of teasing and loved doing it. The effect was heady, but she couldn’t let herself get caught up in it. So, she turned in her seat to search through the menu that hung above the glass counter.

  “Are we going to order something?” she asked without looking at him. When he didn’t answer, she faced him.

  “I had no idea I could do that,” he said. “You’re blushing again.”

  “Cold turkey on rye, please," she said with a steady gaze aimed directly at him. "And plenty of onions.”

  He laughed out loud and rose from his chair. “Coming right up,” he said and winked at her.

  When he turned toward the counter she put her hands to her face to cool her cheeks. Things were getting out of hand. Her resolve was beginning to weaken although nothing had been settled or explained. She told herself everything was still the same as it had been when he’d left seven years ago. She still had no answers. Trying to be reasonable and get a grip on her situation, she stared out the window at the darkness keeping one cool hand on her cheek. A few of the passersby slowed down as though they considered coming into the café but changed their minds and moved on, to her relief.

  She watched his reflection in the darkened window glass as he returned with two dishes, each had a turkey on rye sandwich and a handful of chips. It took everything she had to stop remembering how well they had complemented each other and had been a well-matched pair in their thinking right down to their choices of food. They seldom disagreed over big things and never over the little things. If one of them had something to say, the other one listened, many times having lengthy conversations but not actual disagreements.

  “And what would you like to drink?” he asked as he set the plates on the table.

  “Soda, please,” she replied, peeling back the top layer of bread to peek at the onions, and finding none.

  He leaned down and said, “You don’t like onions, remember?”

  Surprised, she stared at him. He remembered. Then he winked at her again and went back to the counter for the drinks.

  The sandwiches were delicious, and she was grateful he'd eliminated the onions. They talked about inconsequential things, meaningless really, and she'd begun to wonder what was the real purpose of this "not-a-real-date" date. The number of light strings in front of the store across the street was barely interesting neither was the fact that the street had been plowed but not the parking spaces. She added a few words of agreement to be polite, but she sensed he was intentionally avoiding speaking his mind, as though he had something he wanted to say but couldn't, or wouldn't.

  After leaving the café, they walked in the direction of home, but Elise stopped when they reached the turn that led to her house. She had already decided to walk back alone and was determined to do so, but he took her by the hand and kept walking in a different direction.

  “There’s something I’d like to show you,” he said. Reluctantly, she nodded and went with him.

  His steps were measured to suit hers, not outdistancing or lagging, but keeping the same pace. He had a comfortable grip on her hand, occasionally squeezing it as if to reassure her of something, she wasn’t sure what. After another block, they crossed the street and after one more block, they approached Ron and Nora’s house but stopped in front of his parents' home instead. Surprisingly, the darkened house was no longer bereft of Christmas lighting. The porch nearly glowed with colored lights that edged the roof, wound around the columns, and circled the windows as well as the door. The shrubs were bright with white lights and red bows while the porch held an old sled that looked somewhat familiar.

  “What do you think?” he asked.

  She walked a few steps closer to the porch to get a better look at the decorations. “I’d say you’ve been very busy today.” She turned to him and smiled. “It looks wonderful. But there’s only one more day before you leave. That's not much time to enjoy it before you have to take it all down.”

  “I know, but it’s worth it." His facial expression turned serious as he turned to look at her. "Do you have any idea how boring it is to live in a house all alone through Christmas and not a single decoration in sight anywhere?”

  “No.” She wasn’t sure where he was going with this, but she knew something was different.

  “That’s how I spend Christmas at my apartment. When I come back here it's always much better. There's so much hustle and bustle with Mom and Dad in the house and decorations everywhere but not now. I’ve spent too much time alone having to face my thoughts.” He took both of her hands in his and drew her closer. “I’ve mostly avoided Christmas for the last seven years. I’ve ignored what you call the magic of snow. I’ve tried not to dwell on what it used to be like when we were still together because it’s not like that anymore.”

  Elise listened, and understood perfectly what he meant. She’d had the same problem for a while too. She had intentionally immersed herself in her work at the library, stayed involved with the events and the neighbors plus all the little things that kept her mind busy. Christmas had been especially hard since that was the last time they’d seen each other. That was when he’d called to tell her “he’d be in touch,” but he never called again. It took a long time to be able to enjoy the Christmas season after that, but eventually, she’d given up on what might have been. If he’d found another girl at college then she’d have to accept it, and if he had simply tired of her company then she wouldn’t push it. Chasing around after someone who had no interest in being with her wasn’t worth her self-respect. She was no longer a teenager with all the drama that could encompass that stage of life, and she knew she had to let him go even though Brett had always been part of her life.

  He studied her face in silence as though searching for the right words. “I’ve tried to come to grips with the way I handled things during that last Christmas we had together, and I've failed miserably. I have no excuses to offer other than to say I’m sorry and I regret my choices.”

  “Was there another girl?” she asked, barely able to get the words out. She’d been so sure that he’d found someone new while he’d been away at the college that was so far from hers.

  “No. Honest. There wasn’t.”

  After a moment of surprise when she felt a ridiculous sense of relief, she asked, “Then what?”

  “Fear I think, partly anyway. And unsure of myself. Maybe immaturity?” He studied her face a long time and she waited without saying anything. “Probably all of the above," he said.

  His hands gripped hers tighter and she knew there was more than he was telling, but he stayed quiet.

  “Why didn’t you talk to me about what you were feeling?” she asked. "I would have listened."

  “I didn’t know how to put it into words. I only knew that I’d made a mess of the whole college thing up to that point, grades and all. I felt doomed to be a failure and for a kid that’s a hard thing to acknowledge, at least for me it was.” He took a deep breath then went on. “We really were just kids. You were Miss Valedictorian and let’s just say I was nowhere near close to that. I was a year and a half into college and couldn’t get my head wrapped around what I wanted or where I was going and especially how would I ever get there. So, I walked away from you without a word. Probably making you think it was all your fault, but it wasn’t.”

  “I could have insisted that we talk it out. I should have tried,” she said, knowing there was more she needed to say but now it was her remorse kept her quiet.

  “I’m sorry,” he told her. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I was just a mess inside and needed to get it together, then when I got it straightened out, got it figured out, I realized I’d waited too long. After that, every day was like a little bit of torture, knowing what I’d done wasn’t just about me, but it was about you too. And I hadn’t even tried to explain it. I wanted to prove myself to myself, and that was hard for me to verbalize. This wasn’t about you.” He pulled her into his arms, holding her close.

&
nbsp; Elise heard every word. She wished it had all been different, but instead, she’d done nothing, not even a phone call to see how things were going or ask if something was wrong. She had assumed he didn’t want to see her anymore but worse than that was the honest truth that she’d been as unsure as he was. She was just as guilty for the way things had turned out. Her grades had always been important to her and college was tough, he was certainly right about that. For a long time, she’d wondered if she’d sent a signal of her own that spoke loud and clear that there just wasn’t time for him. She admitted she’d had plenty of thoughts of being concerned about managing such life-altering decisions like marriage, a career, and a family. There had been no doubt in her mind that they had been headed for marriage. They were a perfect fit for each other, at least she’d thought so. But had she been the one to drive the first division between them? For all these years that possibility had nagged her even though she refused to dig deeper. So, when the job opportunity near St. Louis came along she grabbed it to avoid awkward situations and chance meetings, like this Christmas. It wasn’t all his fault. And it wasn’t just a silly misunderstanding gone wrong. She had let her own goals sidetrack their relationship too. Wasn’t that why she’d never sought him out and tried to understand what was happening between them?

  Stepping back, she saw the sincerity in his face and hoped he saw the same in hers. “We can’t make the same mistake twice. We can’t go forward without making sure we understand what we’ve been through.”

  “What I know,” he began carefully, “is that I love you now as much… no, I mean, more than I did when we were two teenagers in high school. It scared me to death, these feelings,” he tapped his chest near his heart, “that went deeper than anything I thought could exist. I just didn’t have the nerve to tell you or even know how to deal with it. All I can say is, we were so young and so positive but unsure at the same time.”

  She nodded, feeling the tightening in her chest release as the tears slid down her cheeks. How could she ever have thought that achieving was more important than loving someone?

  “Don’t you think that’s true?” he asked, leaning so close that she could feel the warmth of his breath on her face. “Being miserable without each other isn’t worth all of that. I need you, no matter whether I’ve reached those goals or not.”

  She put her gloved hands on either side of his face and pulled him closer. “I love you,” she said.

  He kissed her softly, wrapping his arms around her in a tight embrace as though he planned to never let her go. When he finally did release her, he started digging in his coat pocket.

  “I’ve got something for you,” he said, his face brightening up. “I think you’ll like it.”

  She pulled off her gloves before accepting the small gift box then unwrapped it. Inside was a silver necklace with a couple of small diamonds that sparkled in the reflected white lights of the shrubbery.

  “It’s kind of dark out here, but it’s a snowflake. I’d help you put it on but well, you’re kind of bundled up and I don’t want to drop it in the snow.”

  “It’s beautiful.” Her tears overflowed again and she brushed them away. "Thank you."

  “You’re not crying, are you?” he asked. “Because I hate to see you cry.”

  She laughed and nodded. “I can’t help it.” She sniffled, putting the necklace back into the box and tucking it securely into her pocket.

  He took her hands again. “This morning I had a sudden, I don’t know, I guess you’d call it an awareness. I call it my Scrooge epiphany,” he said with a half grin.

  Elise gave him a puzzled look, not at all sure what he was referring to, but on the other hand, it was very much in character for him to say something like that. She made a mental note to discuss it later because there would be no more unsaid things between them anymore.

  “Never mind what I just said,” he brushed at the air as though to erase it. “Anyway, I knew things had changed the moment I stood in front of Ron’s front door wearing that dumb sweater. So, this morning I decided I had to set things right and putting up the Christmas lights was a good place to start. Then I called a cab and went into Columbus to the jewelry store for something special for you. And I saw this necklace.”

  “It’s perfect. I love it.” She stepped into his arms again, knowing she was where she belonged, and there to stay. “And I love you, even more today than I did in high school.”

  He smiled, touching his cold nose to hers. “And just so we’re clear on this right from the get-go. I want us to be married. Soon.”

  She smiled back. “Yes.”

  The end