Mistletoe & Kisses (21 page)

Read Mistletoe & Kisses Online

Authors: Anthology

BOOK: Mistletoe & Kisses
13.1Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

 

 

 

Chapter Three

 

IN LESS THAN an hour, I’m pulling off of the highway and entering the small quaint town. After about five minutes of driving through town, my navigation has me turn onto a one-way winding side road that is surrounded by trees. The further I drive, the thicker the forest becomes, and finally, I can see the lake coming into view and a large A-frame log house.

At the end of the road is a wide parking lot with a sign made out of a large, round piece of a tree trunk that says ‘Welcome to Greenwood’s Bed & Breakfast’, with a pine tree branch carved underneath it painted hunter green. It’s beautiful and rustic, and with the lake only a few feet away, I can see why Ella loves living here. It’s a drastic change from living in Albany.

There are two SUVs parked beside my aunt’s Subaru when I pull in and park in a spot close to the large porch. The less distance I have to lug my suitcases in, the better.

When I called her the other day letting her know I’d be coming for Christmas, she told me she had two other reservations for the holidays and had two more rooms vacant. It never occurred to me if I told her last minute I’d be coming that there was a chance I wouldn’t have a room. The last thing I wanted to do was spend Christmas alone. I put my grandmother’s old artificial tree up after Thanksgiving and decorated the fireplace with her antique glass village, but it isn’t Christmas without spending it with people you care about.

Before I left, Gia and I exchanged gifts. I had hers and Ella’s wrapped under my tree. I also had a little gift for Aaliyah, but Gia said she’d save it for Christmas Eve and let her open it then. Her face lit up when she saw I’d gotten her a gift card to Sally’s Beauty Supply. She loves all their hair accessories. We hairstylists are like kids in a candy store in that place.

I loved my new coffee mug she got me. It had scissors and my name on it in a cute cursive font. Of course she knows the fastest way to my heart is coffee, so she gave me a little gift bag with a box of decaf Starbucks K-cups in it.

Hopefully, once I come back from my aunt’s, I can start looking into finding a spot to open my own shop. It is going to be a lot of work, but I think I’ll be a lot happier running my own salon. Once I get it established, I hope Gia will join me in running it.

But for the next two weeks, I’m not worrying about anything. I’m going to relax and enjoy my time here in this quiet snowy town, enjoying the drama-free time before I have to go back to my real life.

Snow is gently falling as I step out of my car. I can feel it crunching under my Ugg boots as I make my way around to my trunk. It’s a lot colder than it was this afternoon now that the sun has set. That’s one thing I hate about December; it gets dark around five o’clock now.

I left my house around six and stopped by a McDonald’s to grab something to eat before jumping on the interstate. I hate driving in the snow, so I was relieved it was only lightly snowing the entire drive and that the roads weren’t frozen over, since it’s forty-two degrees outside right now.

The entire parking area is lit up brightly by spotlights, and the porch is glowing a soft yellow from two antique-style lanterns hanging on each side of the large door. The door is the same wood as the rest of the log house, but with a large frosted glass window etched with a deer standing in a meadow and mountains behind it off in the distance. It is beautiful. The entire house is. I can’t wait to see the inside in person. I’ve only seen it in photos Ella has on her website and Facebook.

With my two suitcases in my hands, I march up to the house, trudging through the snow, and stomp my way up the stairs. I drop each suitcase down beside me and swing the door open. The instant the door opens, it smells like fresh baked apple pie and pine needles.

It smells amazing, and my stomach grumbles as the scent of the pie tickles my nose. Ever since I hit my second trimester, food has become my best friend. I lost five pounds in my first trimester because I had morning, afternoon, and evening sickness. I don’t know why they call it morning sickness, because I spent every waking moment nauseous and nibbling on crackers.

“Ella?” I shout from the doorway as I grab the handles of my bags and wheel them into the house. I park them under the hanging coat rack and glance around. The room is lit by a large chandelier made out of deer antlers, and there’s a floor-to-ceiling stone fireplace on the far right wall with a roaring fire going. Beside it is a tall Christmas tree that looks easily eight feet tall. Beside the tree is a log staircase leading upstairs. There are railings that wrap along a hallway at the top of the staircase, and a bunch of doors are visible.

Ella said there are four bedrooms upstairs. One is hers, and the other three are for guests, each with their own personal bathroom. She told me she’s had the entire basement fully renovated into a game room for families with kids.

The front door enters into a family room. The entire downstairs is made up of a wide open floor plan. To the right, in front of the fireplace, is a very large brown leather sectional and rustic-looking end tables with legs made from tree branches.

Off to the left is a check-in area with a small desk and computer that are sitting beside a pair of glass doors leading out onto the deck, which overlooks the water. Straight ahead is a long wooden dining table with bench seating on each side, and a runner along the center of the table featuring a beautiful Christmas-colored floral vase.

I walk towards the dining area and hear Christmas music faintly coming from a room off to the left side of the house. Even though most of the downstairs is wide open, the kitchen is separated from everything. There’s a large archway that leads into the kitchen. As I make my way through the archway, I spot Ella removing a pie from the oven as her hips swing back and forth to the music blasting from her iPod resting in the dock on the island.

“Nice moves.”

Ella is just setting the pie down on the counter and jumps as my voice startles her. Spinning around, her face lights up when it lands on me. She looks so much like my mother it always makes my heart jump into my throat when I first see her. I swear if they’d been born closer together, instead of thirteen years apart, they would’ve been mistaken for identical twins.

I inherited their high cheekbones, petite nose, and soft ivory skin, which no matter how much I try to tan, I always remain pasty, and we all got the long sweeping eyelashes and sparkling amber eyes with dark green specks from Grandma Rosie. My aunt’s hair is the same caramel blonde as mine, but in the winter, mine begins to look more light brown, since I lose my natural highlights from the sun. She wears her hair short, stopping just below her shoulders, while mine falls to the middle of my back.

You’d think since I’m a hairstylist I’d go crazy with my hair and experiment with color, but I’ve always loved my hair and never felt the need to change it.

She tosses her oven mitts on the kitchen counter and hops on her toes with excitement. “Oh my gosh, I didn’t even hear you come in. I’m so happy you’re here!”

We wrap our arms around one another with Ella hugging me so gently I think she’s afraid she’ll hurt me if she squeezes me too tightly. Breaking away from her, I dart my eyes to the pie on the counter and my stomach growls right on cue. “The roads weren’t bad at all, so I made good timing. I’m excited to spend the holidays here. Seeing you’re baking pies, I don’t know if I’ll ever want to leave!” I joke as I climb up onto a barstool at the island.

“I made some pies for the guests this weekend. You want me to cut you a slice? I have vanilla ice cream in the freezer.”

Smiling, I lick my lips and rub my hands over my belly. “I’d love some, and I think this little girl would too by how loud my stomach is grumbling.”

The second I say
girl,
her eyes sparkle with excitement. “Girl? You’re having a girl?!”

I can’t contain the excitement bubbling inside me. I nod my head enthusiastically and press my hands to my tiny baby bump. “Yup. I found out this afternoon I can officially buy all the pink frilly dresses I want.”

“This calls for a celebration. I have some pies that have already been cooling for a few hours. Let me cut us each a slice and then you can catch me up on everything.”

We spend the next two hours talking. After we ate pie, we moved to the living room, where we sat by the fire and I caught Ella up on the soap opera that is my life right now. Being the amazing person she is, she never once judged me or gave me the ‘I feel sorry for you’ look. She is not just family, but one of my best friends. I owe it to me moving in when I was just entering my teenage years.

I’d always looked up to her growing up, and even before my mother passed, I spent a lot of time at my grandmother’s. I wanted to be just like Ella when I grew up. She was smart, pretty, and driven. I hate that over the years I lost the desire to chase my dreams and kind of just got stuck in the rut of everyday life. Being here with her is exactly what I need to help get my brain back on track.

We talked about baby names and then even talked a little about my mother. It hurts more than I can ever put into words knowing my mother will never meet my daughter, hold her, and watch her grow. But I’m grateful I have my Aunt Ella by my side, being the support system I desperately need right now.

 

 

 

 

Chapter Four

 

THE SOUND OF wood being chopped wakes me. The sun is up and shining through the windows, straight onto my bed.

So much for sleeping in this morning.
Rolling onto my side, I glance at my phone and see it’s seven-thirty in the morning.
Who the hell is up this early on a freaking Saturday?

I try to close my eyes and fall back asleep, but it doesn’t happens. I slap the bed in frustration, and gripping the fluffy down comforter, I whip it off of me and slowly climb out of bed. My back is killing me today from all the running around I did yesterday. I sometimes forget I’m pregnant and should be taking it a little easier.

I walk over to the window and peer down to see who’s causing all the racket so early in the morning. I can’t see a face, because their back is to me, but whoever it is has big, broad shoulders, powerful arms, and a very nice behind.

He’s wearing a pair of jeans, boots, and a flannel shirt that’s rolled up to his elbows. His hair appears to be brown, but when the sun hits it just right through the trees, I spot a hint of dark red. His hair is longer than most guys I know, with loose curls hanging around his ears.

Whoever he is, he looks pretty good from the backside. Blame it on the hormones raging through my body, but I suddenly feel myself flush with heat, tickling me from my scalp to my toes as I watch him set another log up on the tree stump and grip the axe before swinging it back and connecting with the log, splitting it in two.

Who knew cutting wood could be such a turn on?

I cannot believe I really just had this thought flash through my mind. What if he’s married and I’m up here drooling over this man? I’ll do what I always do: blame it on Jase. This is all his fault.
Douchebag.

If he wasn’t such an asshole, I’d be getting sex whenever the craving for it hit me, but instead, I’m alone and left to take matters into my own hands…literally.

My stomach rumbles as it screams at me to feed it. I ignore it and head into the bathroom. My need to pee outweighs my need to eat right now. It takes everything in me to pull myself away from the window. I’m invested in this now. I need to see his face. I pray to God he’s fugly. He can have a hot-as-sin body a girl could only wish for on a guy, but an ugly face would kill the desire. The best thing for me is to avoid any temptation. I’m here to get away from Jase, and all men in general. I need to just focus on me and my baby, and not let my hormones cloud my judgment or decision making.

I decide to take a quick shower before heading downstairs to get some coffee. I didn’t fall asleep last night until after one in the morning, because my brain wouldn’t shut down. I ended up reading on my Kindle app until my eyes finally started to feel heavy with sleep. I didn’t think much of it, since I’m on vacation and figured I’d just sleep in today, but whoever the hell is outside splitting wood at the crack of dawn has ruined that plan.

I’m going to need a nap by the afternoon. I swear this baby is draining every ounce of energy out of me on a daily basis. I used to be the Energizer bunny, but now I feel like I need to recharge every few hours.

When I head downstairs, I spot the elderly couple sitting together at the small table and chairs set beside the sliding glass doors while sipping their coffee and reading the paper. It’s funny seeing someone read an actual newspaper. So many people read them on their phones or tablets now.

I don’t see the family Ella said are staying here too. They’re probably sleeping in right now, like I should be. It’s just my luck the room I got placed in is right above Mr. Lumberjack. Sure, he’s great eye candy to wake up to, but I’d prefer to wake up to him around, say, ten o’clock or so.

The aroma of fried yumminess fills my nose the closer I get to the kitchen. I spot Ella at the stove slaving away on breakfast. I’ve never been so happy my morning sickness is gone, because if her food tastes as great as it smells, I’m going to be food-drunk after I scarf down a plate or two.

“What are you making? It smells so good,” I ask as I perch myself against the countertop beside her. She is an amazing cook and could’ve went to culinary school instead of getting a degree in business, but I guess she uses both skills here at her bed and breakfast.

She stirs what looks like home fries before setting the spatula down on the counter. She blows a puff of air, making a loose strand of hair that has fallen in front of her eye fly out of the way. Her hair is pulled up in a messy bun, I’m guessing to keep it out of our food, which is greatly appreciated.

“Well look who is up bright and early. I hope you’re hungry, because I think I’m cooking enough food to feed this entire town. I’m making fried eggs, home fries, and waffles. I have yogurt, fruit, and granola in the fridge if you want some.”

Laughing, I rub my belly. “Believe me, Ella, at this point, I am always hungry! I think I might have a little of everything,” I tell her as my eyes roam over all the food. “How many people will be joining us?”

Her eyes drop to my belly and she reaches out to rub it through my oversized knitted sweater. Since my jeans have gotten too tight, I’m now living in yoga pants and sweaters. Thankfully, this look is ‘in’ right now, so I can feel comfortable and still look stylish enough to go out in public.

“You’re doctors are going to be thrilled then, because I’m going to make sure this baby gets all the nutrients she needs while you’re here. You look too thin anyways, so prepare to eat a lot, missy.” Grabbing the carton of eggs, she gets to work cracking the eggs and frying them up.

She has a stack of plates on the island and silverware out in an assorted holder. I don’t know how she keeps up when she’s full capacity, cooking all on her own. Glancing at me before bringing her attention back to the eggs, she tells me, “For breakfast, it’s just you, myself, Mr. and Mrs. Lawrence, and Brody, who should be coming in soon too. His son, Corbin, is already here. He’s in the living room watching cartoons, and I imagine will want food soon. Chocolate milk won’t tie him over much longer.”

“Brody? Who’s that?” I ask.

I know she has a boyfriend, but his name is Devin and he is almost the same height as Ella, with short, inky black hair that is buzzed off. I know that for a fact, because they post excessive amounts of photos on Instagram and Facebook whenever they’re out and about somewhere. He owns a bar here, and I guess she met him last summer while out with some girlfriends. I’ve never met him, so this Christmas will be my first time being introduced to him. Ella has said she thinks he’s the one. Her face lit up last night when she talked about him.

I hate to sound bitter, but I hate that I’m standing here five months pregnant and craving even a sliver of the love she has with him. I doubt Jase will ever change. I want happiness and love like Ella and Devin have. Now that I’m pregnant, it’s going to be even harder to stay strong, but I need to set an example for my child. Maybe someday I’ll find love—real love, with a man who looks at me like I hung the moon. With a baby, it’s going to be hard to find love, because they won’t just be with me; they’ll be taking on a child too.

“Oh, Brody. He lives in the loft above the barn with his son Corbin. He’s good friends with Devin. He needed a job that would be easier on him with having a baby full-time. Poor guy has had a rough few years. Being a single father when you have no idea how to care for a baby is a stressful and overwhelming thing. I was in need of a maintenance man and someone to help run this place, so I eagerly jumped on the opportunity. I love Corbin. He stays here and plays all day while Brody works around here.”

My heart aches as I think about him raising his baby on his own. I am scared to death about being a single mom, but I’ve been around Aaliyah since the day she was born, so I have experience around babies. I can only imagine how overwhelmed he was. I’m glad Ella has such a big heart and helped him.

The potatoes are sizzling in the grease bubbling inside the pan, so Ella quickly gets to work stirring them again. I spot the waffle maker on the counter and the bottle of liquid mix. “You need help? I can make the waffles, while you cook the eggs and potatoes.

Ella lets out a sigh of relief and her face relaxes as she gives me a warm smile. “That would be wonderful. I swear I need about six more hands.”

 

Other books

Le Lis et le Lion by Druon,Maurice
The Shepherd's Life by James Rebanks
Striking Out by Alison Gordon
Starkissed by Lanette Curington
Just Friends by Billy Taylor
The Prisoner by Karyn Monk
The Family Moskat by Isaac Bashevis Singer