Waiting for December, page 18
“Because from the moment I’ve met you I’ve been trying not to have feelings for you, and I thought I was doing a damn good job, but now look at me!”
“Because I’m supposed to reunite with Sky on Christmas Eve, and part of my heart feels like it still wants that, but another part of my heart can’t imagine not spending Christmas Eve with you.”
But I don’t say any of these things.
Instead I say, “Because I didn’t want to see you get hurt.”
Jesse blinks. “Are you sure that’s the only reason?”
I wasn’t expecting him to press me. But I think him doing so means he does have feelings. Feelings that he’d like to explore. I’d like to explore them too. I nearly open my mouth to admit it.
But in the back of my head there’s this pilot whom I’ve been emailing every week. One who flew all the way out here a few days ago to apologize in person because he likes me that much. One who I made a promise to before I met the man in front of me.
Because of him, I can’t do it.
“I’m sure.” This time when I lie, I hope Jesse believes me.
twenty-four
I DECIDE TO spend as little time with Jesse as possible until I can sort out my feelings. It isn’t easy, but it’s the right thing to do for everyone’s sake. Except for cooking breakfast together and sitting by the fire for fifteen minutes every night (Jesse and I decided our streak could continue even though we each sat out there two nights alone), I do my own thing.
I try not to analyze how Jesse feels. I try just to home in on how I feel about Sky. That’s what I need to do first. Unfortunately, without Sky here, it’s hard to get clarity on my feelings. When I’m with Sky, there’s this dynamic current between us. Sky makes me adventurous and flirty and fun. And I like that. But then I remember how off we were at times on his surprise visit, and I don’t know if that was the shock of it or something else. So, for a few days, nothing progresses.
But come Wednesday, I do get clarity on his feelings when I get another letter. In it he sounds so normal, so like the Sky I first met—it’s almost as if his trip out here didn’t even happen. He stresses that he’s still just as excited about Christmas Eve as he was before his visit. He even says he’s sorry he didn’t give me the same reassurance I gave him before we parted ways that night.
I flinch slightly when I read that apology. Then I push my doubt aside and write him back, keeping it light and normal too. I don’t say anything about how confused I am because I don’t want to plant seeds of doubt in his mind if I don’t have to. And I don’t know that I need to. I think. Well, I just really don’t know.
One thing I do know is that there has never been a time in my life where I’ve been looking forward to seeing my best friends more. The timing couldn’t be better for their arrival.
They were originally thinking to come for Thanksgiving since they both have more days off work for the holiday, but prices for plane tickets were crazy, and even though we’re as close as family, we decided it was silly for them to miss celebrating with their parents and siblings, who are all in Atlanta. Grace is also married with a baby on the way, and I told her she shouldn’t miss this holiday with her husband, Noah. They opted to fly out two weekends before instead. Though they’re only staying for two nights, at this point, I’ll take whatever amount of friend time I can get.
“You’re here!” I squeal, wrapping them in a group hug as soon as they step out of their rental car.
“We’re here!” echoes Grace. “Look at this place!” It’s a cold day, but with clear skies, so the property is shining. “Look at you!” she says, giving me a once-over.
“Look at you!” I reply. Though it’s still too early in her pregnancy for her to be showing, her face is glowing.
“Look at him . . .” says Zoe.
When I shoot a glance over my shoulder, I see Jesse walking toward us. In his damn cutoff shirt.
I’ve filled Zoe and Grace in a little via text about Sky’s visit, Madison’s visit, and how I’m now conflicted about my feelings for Sky and for Jesse. They know I’m pining for their advice on who I should choose while they’re here, and I’m pretty sure Zoe just chose her side.
“You must be Zoe and Grace,” Jesse says. “I’ve heard so much about you both.” I had no idea how Jesse would act around my friends since we’ve only spoken about their arrival in terms of logistics: how many nights they’re staying, what room we’re putting them in. But he’s acting normal, like the Jesse I first befriended, and a tenderness I’m not sure I want blooms once again in my stomach.
“Congrats on your exciting news,” he tells Grace. I mentioned she was pregnant over a month ago. He remembered. Of course, he remembered.
“Thank you.” Grace smiles as she places a hand on her stomach, and I can tell he’s having an effect on her too. But Sky is at a slight disadvantage because he’s not here. At least now my friends will understand the reality of my dilemma when I lay everything out on the table for them later this afternoon.
We make small talk in a circle about Zoe and Grace’s flight here and how things have been going in Atlanta since I left. Then Jesse and I tell them about life at the inn. All our stories take place prior to this past week, and recalling our good memories causes even more tenderness to sweep over me. The feeling is followed by a burst of nostalgia for the way things were before I started to develop feelings I didn’t know what to do with.
I’m relieved when Jesse tells us he should get back to work because seeing him be my Jesse again is too much. I can’t handle it.
“I’ll take up your luggage,” Jesse tells Zoe and Grace when they open the car to get their things. “I’m sure Harper is anxious to show you around the property.”
We all thank him as we turn to leave, but before we get very far I hear Jesse say, “Hey, Harper?”
“Yeah?” When I turn back around, his eyes find mine—really find mine—for the first time since we were on that car ride without a destination, and my entire body fills with a longing I can’t describe.
“I can cover for you for happy hour tonight,” he says, “if you want to take your friends into town.”
I swallow and nod. “Thank you, Jesse,” I say. Or maybe that’s not what I say. The truth is, I’m too distracted by what’s going on in my heart to pay attention to anything going on in my head.
—
“Okay, I’m just going to say it,” Zoe says once we’re seated in a booth at Harrison’s, an upscale American restaurant known for its comfort food, where we settled on for lunch. “I like the innkeeper. And you like the innkeeper.”
I’m honestly surprised it took her until we got into town to speak up. I was sure she would blurt out something to this effect on our tour of the property or during the car ride here. Likely the only reason she held out was because she knew it was going to prompt a long discussion and so waited till we had the time for it.
My eyes well up, and Zoe must notice because she rushes to apologize. “Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you wanted us to weigh in!”
“I do,” I say, as she hands me a napkin. “It’s just that I don’t want to like the innkeeper.”
“Because of the pilot?” clarifies Zoe, as she twists her long, dark hair up into a bun.
“Exactly. I want to like the pilot. I met the pilot first. The pilot is great.”
“I like the pilot too,” offers Grace. I forwarded parts of my emails between Sky and me to Zoe and Grace in preparation for this discussion.
“It’s not that I don’t also like the pilot,” adds Zoe. “I’m just saying we shouldn’t rule out the innkeeper.”
“I know,” I sigh, my frustration growing. “I have no idea what to do.”
Grace reaches over and rests a hand on top of mine as our food arrives: soup and salad for us all. Once the waitress leaves, Grace says, “Do you have to focus so much on figuring that out? I thought you came here for you.”
I’m almost embarrassed when she calls me out for this. But she’s right. Here I am stressing about two guys when I didn’t come here for a guy. I came here for me.
“You’re right,” I say. “You’re totally right.”
We spend the next half hour talking about the progress I’ve made. I tell them about the items I’ve crossed off my bucket list. I tell them that while I haven’t found my passion, I do like it here. I tell them I value my work at the inn and the slow pace of life that comes with living in a small town.
And then I get caught up to speed on everything going on with them. Grace tells me she has some challenging new therapy clients. She can’t go into detail, which suits her fine because she doesn’t want to. On the home front, she and Noah have painted their nursery yellow and have picked out baby names: Leslie if it’s a girl, Lucas if it’s a boy.
Zoe then fills me in about a recent yoga retreat she hosted at her studio and about the dentist she just started dating. “I cracked a tooth. And it was the best worst thing to ever happen to me,” she says.
I smile and reiterate how happy I am they’re both here. There’s something about sitting with good friends—you feel as if all is right in the world. Or will be all right.
We continue catching up in the comfort of our booth long after the check has been paid, and then we walk around downtown for the remainder of the afternoon, popping in and out of all the shops. Both Zoe and Grace pick up sweatshirts and other Stowe souvenirs from The Country Store on Main. They plan to give them as Christmas presents for loved ones back home. Then we opt for a late-afternoon coffee at Milk & Maple.
Once dinnertime comes around, we decide to try another new restaurant, Whip Bar and Grill, and although it’s lovely and the food is delicious, we eat quickly because the girls are tired from the long day and tell me they want to retire early.
When we pull back into the inn, it’s just past nine o’clock. I glance at the fire pit and notice Jesse sitting out there by himself. It’s later in the evening than it usually is when we sit out there, but he had to cover my evening duties and his, so it makes sense that he’s just now getting around to it.
“I need to join him,” I say, nodding to the fire once we climb out of the car. “Just for fifteen minutes. Do you two want to join before you call it a night?”
“Isn’t that your special ritual?” Zoe says. I’ve told them both about it over text.
“Yeah, but you’re our guests. You’re more than welcome to join.”
Zoe pulls her jacket tighter around her chest. “I flew here to catch up with my best friend, not catch hypothermia, so I think I’ll pass.”
“That claw foot bathtub in our room is calling my name,” says Grace.
“Okay. I’ll meet you up there,” I say. We already decided at dinner I’d sleep on their fold-out couch at the foot of their two queen-sized beds. Their trip isn’t long enough for us to spend any of the hours apart.
“How many minutes did I miss?” I ask Jesse when I approach the fire.
“Three,” he tells me. “I’ll restart my timer.”
“You don’t have to. I can just wait out here for three minutes after you finish up.”
“Already reset,” he says.
I nod and take the seat beside him, reaching for a blanket to drape around my legs.
“How was town?” he asks.
“Nice,” I say. “How did happy hour go?”
“Fine.”
“Thanks again for covering for me.”
“No worries.”
This conversation is so not like us, it makes me cringe. I can tell it’s making Jesse cringe too. He’s not even attempting to hide it. He was just shaking his head, and now he’s rubbing a hand down his face and getting to his feet. “Look, Harper,” he says. “We need to talk.”
“I know,” I whisper. He’s right. We can’t keep tiptoeing around each other.
“I was jealous.” He blows out a breath as if he’s struggled with keeping this in as much as I have. “When Sky showed up, I was jealous. When you gave him a tour, I was jealous. When you went to dinner instead of being at the fire, I was jealous. Every time I saw him touch you, I was so goddamn jealous.”
He’s pacing back and forth, his movements quick and jerky. Suddenly, he stops and whirls around, his eyes slamming into mine. I think I stop breathing, but I’m not sure because he looks as if he’s about to say something every part of me wants to hear.
“I like you, Harper,” he says, and there’s such certainty behind the statement that it punches me in the chest. “I like you as way more than a friend. I like you like I could fall for you.”
I’m feeling his confession everywhere. It’s thirty-two degrees out, and I might need to strip off a layer. Or several layers.
I didn’t realize how badly I wanted these words until they came out of his mouth.
I don’t know what he sees in my face, but he shuts his eyes for a moment, and when he opens them he says, “I know you have an arrangement with Sky, and I respect that and don’t want to get in the way of it if being with Sky is what you want. The last thing I want to do is to get in the way of what you want, Harper. I will bury my feelings, if that’s what you want me to do.”
I know he would. That’s just who Jesse is. He puts other people first.
“But I needed to share this because I want you to know that if there’s any part of you that has feelings for me too, then my hat’s also in the ring. I will wait for you too.”
A beat goes by, then another, and he breaks eye contact with me and half turns away.
“You don’t need to respond if there’s nothing to say,” he says. “It’s okay. It’ll be okay. I just had to say it once.”
But I do need to respond. I’ve been so worried about not being fair to Sky, but not saying anything in this moment wouldn’t be fair to Jesse.
“I wasn’t completely honest with you in the car,” I confess. He faces me again, and I push the rest of the words out. “I was jealous of Madison. And my feelings didn’t just appear when she got here. They’ve been developing for awhile, but that’s when I realized how strong they were, because for the first time I couldn’t ignore or excuse or fight them.”
I watch as Jesse lets out a quiet exhale.
“I don’t know what to do with this, Jesse,” I continue. “I’m not with Sky, but I feel I’ve made a commitment to him, and I do have a connection with him. I’m really confused, but I need you to know that your feelings aren’t one-sided. I just need you to know that.”
When I finish my confession, I drop my head into my hands because I don’t know how to handle any of this. I feel frustrated and exhausted.
I hear Jesse walk back to his chair beside mine and sit down. Then I feel the weight of a steady, comforting hand on my back, and I know Jesse will stay here like this as long as I need.
It makes me want to cry.
It makes me want to kiss him.
Dammit.
When I lift my head from my hands, I see he’s closer than I anticipated. Close enough that it wouldn’t take much for my lips to find his.
“Did you almost kiss me in the car?” I ask. I know the last thing I should be doing right now is asking for more confirmation of Jesse’s feelings, but I haven’t been able to get that question off my mind.
“It took everything in me not to kiss you, Harper.” Jesse brings his forehead close to mine. “It’s taking everything in me not to kiss you now.”
My heart is pounding so hard I can hear it thrumming in my ears. I half want to say, “Just kiss me, then,” and I half want to leave. I should leave. I battle with myself as the timer goes off. Maybe it’s a sign, but neither one of us shifts an inch.
I don’t know how long we stay like that, letting the timer blare.
“I need to think,” I finally whisper against his lips.
“Okay,” he breathes against mine.
I do not know how he finds the strength to do what I can’t, but a beat later he gets to his feet. He shuts off the timer. And then he walks away from me. By the time he’s halfway back to his cottage, it occurs to me that he was able to find that strength because he cares for me. And because he meant what he said: he will bury his feelings if that’s what I want. He will give me whatever I want.
I’m as relieved as I am disappointed. And I have no idea where that leaves me.
—
Zoe and Grace don’t ask about the fire when I get upstairs, even though I was out there much longer than fifteen minutes. I don’t offer any details because I’m still processing everything that just happened. Instead, we talk about our plans for tomorrow as we get ready for bed. I propose that we hang around the inn all day so they can accompany me on my normal routine and we can make dinner after happy hour in the parlor.
They both tell me they love that idea, although they sound so tired I think they’d agree to just about anything. They’ve already buried themselves under the covers.
Zoe made up my bed on the sofa, so I get under the covers after brushing my teeth even though I feel wide awake. We all mutter goodnight, and a few minutes later I hear Zoe’s signature heavy breathing and nothing from Grace, which means she’s probably passed out too. Grace has always slept in complete silence with both hands crossed over her chest like a mummy.
I roll over onto my side, which is how I usually like to fall asleep, but that doesn’t seem to help. My mind is still racing.
It strikes me that this is the first time in more than eight weeks that I won’t be sleeping next to Jesse. Not next to him, next to him, obviously. I just mean in the cottage beside him. There’s always been something comforting about knowing he’s just a few feet away. I didn’t realize just how comforting until now, when I’m here and he’s on the other side of the property. What does that mean? What does that tell me?
I roll onto my back again and start my staring contest with the ceiling, thinking of Sky’s cute snore as well as our night together in his room and all the letters he’s written me. Those still make me smile with a giddy sense of joy. What does that mean? What does that tell me?
My mind jumps to an unpleasant memory: when Jake left me right before our wedding. I remember him telling me that the choice was incredibly difficult, that his heart was being pulled in two directions. I thought he was just saying that to soften the blow of his decision and maybe justify his broken promise to me. I thought it wasn’t possible to have a heart as conflicted as he described. But I believe him now. I understand in a way I didn’t before. And maybe that’s all I’m going to get tonight: better understanding of how my last chapter ended, not clarity on how this one will play out.
