Stocking Stuffer, page 8
Seven
If anyone noticed that Bailey and Mack had been missing, they didn’t show it. Luckily, Jenna’s engagement was the primary focus of the night, and all the women were too busy oohing and aahing over the ring. The men were more concerned with college football bowl discussions. Mack breathed a sigh of relief that no one paid him or Bailey a second of thought during the entire dinner that the Macholan family hosted. He, Bailey, Rob, and Jenna ended up at the kids’ table in the kitchen, while the adults sat in the dining room.
“Nothing ever changes,” Mack chuckled as he stared at the two little children who shared the table with them. The kids belonged to one of his cousins, Tracy, who was ten years older than him. He had no idea what that made them, but they were Macholans, and that was enough to receive a warm welcome here.
“It’s not too bad,” Rob said, a pensive look on his face. “We can talk about whatever we want at this table.”
“Like dinosaurs?” one of the little kids next to Mack asked. He couldn’t have been more than six years old.
“Yes, exactly like dinosaurs.” Rob smiled at the boy, and the two dove into a surprisingly heated debate about who would win a fight, a T. rex or a Lythronax. Mack couldn’t miss the way Jenna was watching her fiancé and the child with adoration.
Oh boy . . . She had that starry-eyed look on her face that looked like his mother’s whenever she reminded him that she wanted grandbabies someday. He turned his focus to Bailey, and she was watching the child too, a soft expression on her face. In that instant, he saw Bailey building a snowman with a red-cheeked cherubic child who had her eyes. The warmth in his chest blazed hot as he realized he wanted that for Bailey. No . . . he wanted that with Bailey.
He swallowed and quickly looked away. He caught Rob watching him, and Rob winked as though he read Mack’s thoughts. Although he was uncomfortable that his thoughts were so transparent, he was glad to have someone like Rob joining the family. The guy was smart, funny, and thought Jenna was the answer to everything. Which was exactly how a man who loved his favorite cousin should be.
Mack enjoyed sitting next to Bailey at dinner, their knees brushing beneath the cover of the table as the conversation flowed easily. It was as though Bailey had always belonged here with his family.
More than once, her honey-colored hazel-brown eyes would meet his gray ones as she said something, and her smile would brighten just a little, as though secretly for him, and damn him, he’d grin back at her like a fool. Then she’d brush one of her loose, curling locks of hair over her shoulder, and he’d get lost in the glossy ripples of her warm, walnut-colored hair. Everything about her was touchable, kissable, a tangible delight that he wanted to flood all his senses with.
He reached for her hand under the table, tracing his fingers over the back of her hand, and she turned her palm up toward his, their fingers sliding smoothly together and locking in a gentle hold.
As they finished their dinner, Mack was actually looking forward to the community theater’s Christmas play. They abandoned the dishes on the counter, and everyone grabbed their coats. Carpools were arranged, and by a quirk of fate, he and Bailey ended up in his car, along with two of the kids, the little boy of six named Alex and a girl named Emma, who was about ten. Bailey made conversation easily with both kids. Mack was glad; he didn’t spend much time with kids, but he liked them. Bailey was a natural.
He parked his car in the parking lot next to the theater, and their two young charges spotted their parents one car away and rushed over to them. Emma waved goodbye to Bailey, and that left Mack and Bailey alone on their walk to the theater.
“So . . . ,” he began, trying to figure out how best to ask his question. “You like kids?” Well, so much for being subtle. Apparently, his mouth and brain weren’t communicating well tonight.
“Yes.” She laughed softly. “Why?”
“Oh . . .” He shrugged and pushed his hands into the pockets of his knee-length black coat. Then he crooked one elbow out toward her. She slipped her arm in his as if they’d done this a thousand times. The simple contact felt so right that every unsettled nerve inside him calmed with an infinite peace. “Do you want kids?”
She was silent a moment as they walked toward the glowing lights of the performing arts building. “I do. It doesn’t have to be right away, but I do.” She walked a few more steps before pausing. “Do you want kids, Mack?”
“I honestly never thought about it until tonight, but I do.” He felt her relax next to him. They walked the rest of the way in companionable silence to the doors of the theater. The seating was open, and they chose seats in the middle where the sound would be the best.
The night felt strangely surreal to him as he removed his jacket and helped Bailey with hers and they settled in. It was completely natural to put his arm around her chair and then shift that arm to her shoulders. She moved, but toward him, not away. That ball of warmth in his chest spread a little more. The lights dimmed, and the red velvet curtains split on the stage to reveal a street in Victorian London.
“Marley was dead, to begin with,” the narrator intoned dramatically as the actors filled the stage. Old man McGinty was dressed in a black suit and top hat as he prowled about the stage in a perfect miserly fashion befitting Ebenezer Scrooge.
As the story unfolded, Mack fell under its spell. The theme of the past, present, and future bound up by one’s decisions hit too close to home. He found himself wondering what would have happened that night if he’d kissed Bailey before letting her go inside after the prom. What if he had seen her smile rather than cry? Would he have had ten years of her in his life? Would they now be married with a child or two sitting beside them in this very theater? To think that future had been erased all because he hadn’t kissed her. A pang hit his heart so fiercely that he pulled Bailey an inch closer against him.
McGinty spoke in a clear voice, “I will honor Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all the year. I will live in the past, the present, and the future.” He faced the audience, beseeching them to believe him. Goosebumps broke out over Mack’s arms, and he had the strangest feeling McGinty was speaking to him. As the play ended, neither he nor Bailey moved. They waited until most of the crowd cleared out before they stood to put their coats on.
“Oh, I see Jenna at the back.” Bailey rushed to catch up with Jenna and Rob at the back of the theater, heading into the lobby. They stood talking and didn’t seem to be in a rush to leave. Mack glanced back at the stage, as if drawn by something. He walked toward the little Victorian village setup. He climbed easily up on the stage and walked through the fake fallen snow on the stage. A little bit of it still trickled down from a snow machine above. The blue-and-white stage lights illuminated the white flakes as they drifted down past Mack’s face.
“It’s good to see you, Montgomery Macholan,” a voice rumbled in a grandfatherly chuckle. Mack turned to find Mr. McGinty standing there. He had lost his Scrooge costume and was now dressed in a Santa costume. It was clear the man had plans tonight.
“Not heading home, Mr. McGinty?” Mack asked him. He was a little shocked to see that his grumpy old neighbor made a decent Santa.
“I visit the children’s hospital every year, among other things.” He adjusted the silver belt buckle on his pants. His suit was far more real looking than the one Mack had worn for the company Christmas party.
“Wow, that’s really nice of you.”
The old man smiled. “I heard you were a good Santa for some special children this year.”
Mack rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed. “I did my best. It killed me that I couldn’t help heal them. They’re just kids. They deserve to have a full life ahead of them.” The thought of those kids all having to face Christmas with uncertain futures made his chest tighten until it made it hard to breathe.
“All of life is us learning to live. Some are blessed with more time, and often they are the ones who realize their fortune the least.” McGinty stroked his beard, and he fixed Mack with a meaningful look. “It’s time you realized that she’s your future. Stop wasting it.”
Mack turned instinctively toward the doorway where he could see Bailey. When he looked back at McGinty, the man was already vanishing into the dark wings off the stage.
He stared at McGinty’s back for a long moment before his eyes roved over the stage again, and a little chill rippled beneath his skin, making him feel strangely alive—and all the more determined to regain what he’d lost so many years ago. It was time to win Bailey’s heart back and show her he would spend the rest of his life making her happy.
“Come on, Mack!” Jenna shouted at him, and he leapt off the stage and ran toward the doors, toward his future, toward Bailey.
Something was different about Mack tonight. Bailey lingered in the entryway of the Macholans’ house long after everyone else had gone home.
“So what are you doing tomorrow?” Mack asked.
“What am I doing?” She laughed. “Christmas stuff. Cookies, presents, turkey, and all that kind of stuff.”
He grinned almost bashfully. Who knew her charming boy next door was so wicked in bed and yet could still be bashful?
Tonight had been something out of a wonderful dream. Sharing dinner with his family and feeling like she fit in, holding his hand beneath the table, and walking into the theater on his arm. The little things dug into her heart, carving his name deeper in its walls. How his gray eyes had lit up as she’d shifted closer to him, and he’d curled an arm around her shoulders. They’d watched old McGinty play Scrooge, and that had been a kind of magic too in its own way, the timeless story of second chances spoke to her stronger than it ever had before. And now . . . now Christmas Eve was drawing to a close, and she didn’t know what was to come next.
Mack shuffled his feet in the hall, and then his gray eyes, so electric met hers. “Let me see you tomorrow?” Something about that look, the storms brewing in his eyes and the way his golden hair was falling across his forehead . . . it brought back that night ten years ago, and her heart shuddered a painful few beats.
Bailey wanted to say yes, but for the first time that day her rational mind regained control and reminded her of everything she’d been through because of him.
“What are we doing, Mack?” Her good mood was fading away, and trying to catch hold of it was like trying to harness the wind.
Mack took her hands in his and was silent a long moment. The intensity of his gaze stunned her. She’d never had a man look at her like that before—like she was everything.
“I should have kissed you a long time ago, Bailey. Long before prom night. I was a fool. I’ve been a fool for a long time. These last two days have been a wake-up call. I walked away from you at the moment when I should have stayed, and that will always haunt me. Ten years I’ve lost. Ten years you could have been in my life.” He smiled ruefully. “I guess what I’m saying is I’m done regretting things. I want you. I want you in my life.” Mack’s eyes glowed. “I want all of it with you. The wedding, the lazy Sunday mornings, the chaotic holidays with our families, dressing up as Santa for our kids.”
Bailey’s lips parted in shock. What was he saying? Was he asking her to marry him?
“Mack . . . I . . .” Her words quivered in the air, and he gave her hands a small squeeze.
“I know I’m springing this on you . . . Hell, I don’t even have a ring. I’ve made a mess of this.” He tried to laugh away his embarrassment.
“Time,” Bailey said softly. “I need time, Mack.” She pulled her hands from his. “You hurt me. You broke my heart, and I don’t know if I can go through that again. You have to mean it, more than anything. You have to want me forever. If you got bored and just . . .” She didn’t dare finish the thought.
“Bells.” He reached for her, but she stepped back. If he touched her, she would lose her good sense and stay.
“I need to go. It’s late.” She started for the door, and her heart hammered as she heard his footsteps a second before she was spun around in his arms.
He cradled her close, his lips coming down on hers, but the kiss was infinitely tender, a soft, warm melding of lips. The kiss filled her head with visions of a long-ago night in his car when she’d leaned toward him, wanting everything from him and life. It was a kiss for a sixteen-year-old girl, the kiss she’d always dreamed of. She knew that no matter what happened tomorrow, the memory of this kiss would be the last thing she dreamed about every night. It would follow her wherever she went, a North Star beckoning her home. When their lips parted, Mack held her face in his hands and touched his forehead to hers.
“I’ve loved you my entire life, Bailey Willis. There’s never been anyone for me like you. It’s always been you. I’ve just been too blind to see it.” He nuzzled her cheek and then pressed a soft kiss to her forehead.
Bailey nearly opened her mouth, wanting to blurt out that she still loved him, would always love him, but she wasn’t going to be that teenage girl again and let her heart get broken. She was too scared of the uncertain future with him to let him back in her life.
She closed her eyes, and then he stepped away, letting her go. His heat vanished as he pulled away, and she trembled as a cold far icier than the wind outside chilled her to her very bones.
Snow was falling outside as she crossed the space between their two childhood homes. She turned to look back. In the soft, snowy silence of Christmas Eve, she saw him framed in the doorway haloed by golden light. Snow swirled around in front of him as he watched her. For a moment, the flakes seemed to hum with all the words unspoken between them, before she couldn’t bear it and rushed away.
Her mother and father had already gone to bed, and her house was quiet. She tiptoed up the stairs to her bedroom and closed the door. She leaned back against it and drew in a deep breath. Across the way, she saw Mack’s bedroom light turn on. Her own room was dark, and she could watch him without being seen. He stood in his room, his hands shoved into his jeans pockets as he simply stared at the floor. Then he walked slowly over to his bed, sat down, and buried his face in his hands. He was so still, like he was frozen in a grief so great it had trapped him in a pillar of invisible ice. She knew that hunched, defeated pose more than anyone else. That was how she’d felt the night he’d broken her heart.
“Oh, Mack,” she whispered. She wanted to believe him. That somehow he realized now, after all these years, that he loved her. But they were strangers with a shared childhood. That wasn’t enough to risk her heart on.
She moved away from her bedroom door and sat down on her own bed, but she knocked something onto the floor. She heard the faint clink of metal. She leaned downward, her hand searching in the dark until she found whatever had fallen. It was the jingle bell Mack had bought her for Christmas so many years ago. She lifted it up, shaking it lightly, but no sound came out. Had she imagined the faint tinkle as it had fallen?
She placed the bell back in its box and put it on the nightstand. As her fingertips released the box, it gave a faint, solitary jingle. The silver of the bell was so bright it looked almost white in the pale moonlight coming in from her bedroom window.
Something inside her seemed to mend itself in that moment, and as she looked again toward Mack’s window. She knew what she wanted. She pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and texted him one word.
Yes.
She held her breath as he tensed, and then he lowered his hands from his face and retrieved his cell phone from the bed beside him. He stared at the screen, and then his head turned her way. She reached for the lamp on her nightstand and clicked it on so he could see her. He rose from the bed and approached the window. She expected him to call her. Instead, he tapped something on his phone and then left the room, turning off the light.
What was he doing? Had she lost her chance?
Just as the panic and heartbreak threatened to swallow her, her cell phone buzzed with a text.
Wait there. Coming to you.
She continued to stare out her window, and a minute later, he emerged from the front door of his house. Mack was bundled up in his winter coat and snow boots. He headed toward the back side of his home. She could just see the edge of the Macholan backyard and his father’s toolshed. Mack approached the shed and opened the door, disappearing briefly inside the darkness of it. When he emerged, he carried a ladder over one shoulder. Tramping through the snow, he marched up to her house with ease. He braced the ladder against the brick wall beneath her window.
It was then she realized what he was up to, and she opened her window, wincing as the frigid air blew into her face. She hastily tugged on the tabs to pop the screen off and let it fall into the snow beside the ladder. When she leaned over the window ledge, she saw Mack climbing up toward her. When he got to the top of the ladder, his face appeared in the center of her open window, and she knelt to be level with him. For a second they stared at each other, a brief uncertainty still sending nerves fluttering through her belly. His eyes were bright and burning like winter stars.
“Give me a second chance?” Mack asked, his voice a low whisper.
She nodded, reaching out to brush his hair from his eyes, and her fingers chilled with the dusting of snowflakes that clung to the golden strands. He leaned into the touch of her hand, and for a second she felt like Juliet when Romeo scaled the wall to her balcony. Mack could break her heart, but wasn’t love worth the risk?
“Come inside before you freeze.” She placed her hands on his own glove-covered ones. Then she moved out of the way, letting him crawl through the window. Mack closed it and turned to face her as he stood.
“Bells . . . ,” he murmured, and she threw herself into his arms.
Mack held her so tight that she had trouble breathing at first. Then he let her go just long enough to throw his gloves off and shed his coat and snow boots. She backed up to the bed, and they toppled onto it together. She clutched at him, needing to feel him in her arms, to feel that this was happening, knowing what it meant. Mack’s smile was soft in the moonlight as he stroked the backs of his fingers over her cheek.
