You Had Me At Christmas: A Holiday Anthology (34 page)

“Your choices aren’t just
get back on the project
or
be a man of leisure.
” Her brows were crossed in confusion, wrinkles covering her forehead. “You can do something else.”

“Something else like you’re doing? Finding a waitressing job and going back to community college?” His anger burned through the holes littering his body as he said the words, and it didn’t feel good. Nothing about this conversation felt good.

It all felt
wrong
. As if he was being dumped when they weren’t even dating. Only it wasn’t like the other times he’d been dumped. Once, in college, he’d felt like a child being denied a toy. And then when he was working on his project, a woman had dumped him because she never saw him. She must have been right, too, because he didn’t remember missing her.

But Marc wanted to have fun with Selina. He wanted to explore with her and get to know her better, see those moments when she was relaxed and when her face puckered into the strangely hot irritation that made her lips purse.

They weren’t a couple, and all she was asking for was their original agreement, but he still felt as though he was being rejected because he was at odds with himself. As though there were some defect in him that made him unworthy.

It’s not because you’re lost. It’s because you’re not trying to find yourself.

All the code running through his mind suddenly finished processing and his brain flashed with a result. She’d said something about him that was both true and something he didn’t like, and he’d responded by throwing accusations at her.

Not a way to plead his case.

He was silent for moment, letting the noise of the falls wash over him and the icy winter water cool the ashes his anger had left behind.

“Maybe my plans don’t look like much to you,” she said. “Maybe it looks like I’m just replacing my Idaho life with a Utah one. But my goal was to get away from my stepfather and my small town, and I did that. I might even have a chance to live my own dream and work in a gallery, something I never could have done in Athol. And I won’t be dependent on you for everything I eat and every bed I sleep on. That’s as important as my dreams.”

Without his anger at himself now roaring through his ears, reason managed to sneak in. She had a dream and she had the chance to pursue it. Even if he could get in the way of that, he wouldn’t want to. One dream of his own life was done; he needed to find a new one. And she was right. He wasn’t even
trying
to find something. He’d given himself the winter of every skier’s fantasy, and he was going to blow it because he’d decided he couldn’t be happy without Terry to work on.

He had to at least try for something more. He had to make use of his winter hiatus to step away from Terry and see what he wanted to do next, figure out who he was without Terry to work on or Curtis to work with. And he couldn’t hang around Selina, using her as a crutch to distract him from the fact that he was treading water just as much as she had been.

That realization hurt, though not nearly as much as the knowledge that he might not see Selina again. That realization
burned
.

She turned her face away from him to the waterfalls. Shoshone Falls in winter wasn’t the massive Niagara-like sight he’d been led to believe, but the water cascading over the rocks soothed the rough edges of his soul. The sight was no less beautiful for being different from what he’d expected.

“When we get to Salt Lake and you drop me off at the house with my room, I’ll have reached one of my goals, and I’m on my way to creating new ones. Bigger ones,” she went on. “So maybe achieving just one goal doesn’t look like much to you, but at least I’m not stopping there.”

He nodded slowly. “I get it. It took me awhile, but I get it. And I get that you’re making progress and I’m not. And that I’m relying on you to distract me.” Sadness pulled at him, a sinking feeling that seemed to drag at his muscles and bones. “I guess I need to figure myself out on my own . . . So let’s get you to Salt Lake.”

He put his hand on her back, thinking they would return to the parking lot. Instead, she leaned into him for a hug, resting her head on his shoulder. He laid his head on the top of hers, the smell of hotel shampoo filling his nose. He’d have to avoid staying at that same chain of hotels for the rest of his winter trip because he wouldn’t be able to resist opening the shampoo just so he could smell this moment, remembering her in his arms.

She sniffed a couple of times, and he realized that she was crying. When he was younger, it might have bothered him. Emotions had been scary and code had been clean. But now he understood her strength and admired the way she pushed through her troubles to carve out a life for herself. If crying was a part of that, then he admired that, too.

He didn’t know how long they stood there, but when she finally pulled away, he knew it hadn’t been long enough. She had come into his life like a feather, blown in by the wind, when he needed her strength and she needed his freedom. And she was leaving just as softly.

They walked to the car in silence. In fact, they drove the four hours to Salt Lake City mostly in silence. What was there left to say?

T
he winter sun
was setting as Marc drove them down a series of narrow residential streets lined with bungalows. Selina peered out the window at her new neighborhood—at least for the foreseeable future—trying to read the people who lived in the houses.

In early December, much of the greenery was dead, but there wasn’t any snow to cover up the brown plants and dry grass. There was smog, though. She hadn’t realized that Salt Lake City had so much smog. The gray haze wasn’t the crisp mountain air that she had expected.

“The neighborhood looks nice,” Marc said, sounding relieved.

The last leg of their trip had been four hours of uncomfortable silence, with only minimal talking when they stopped for gas and a snack. Selina hadn’t known what to say, and she suspected Marc hadn’t, either. Now he sounded both reassured and grateful for something to talk about.

Multicolored Christmas lights covered the railings of the porch of the next house, and the light by the front door was on. She looked at the number on the mailbox and took a deep breath. They were really here.

When they pulled to a stop at the curb, the front door opened. A woman of Babe’s age, nearly as thin as Babe was large, walked out. “Selina?” she asked, walking toward them.

Backlit by the setting sun, the woman was hard to see, but her voice sounded kind. Of course, Selina would trust Babe with anything, so any friend of Babe’s had to be good people.

“Yes,” Selina said as she climbed out of the car. “It’s me. And you’re Pam?”

To her surprise, Pam rushed up and enveloped her in a hug. “It’s nice to meet you, my dear. Babe and I are old friends, back from when her first husband was in the Army. She’s always spoken so highly of you.”

“It’s nice to meet you, too.” Selina turned to look at Marc, who had walked up to them. “And this is Marc. He gave me a ride down here.” That seemed like such an understatement for what he meant to her. “And a friend.”

Still an understatement, but a better one. He was her rescuer, but now with her own room to rent—arranged by her—she was going to be her own rescuer. The thought gave her strength and hope for the future.

“Nice to meet you, Marc,” Pam said, shaking his hand. “Why don’t you get Selina’s bag and come in to the house? You can set it in her room.”

Marc and Selina dutifully followed Pam into the house and to Selina’s new bedroom.

“This is nice,” Marc said, and Selina realized that he’d been more worried about her than she had been. That realization was made sweeter because he wasn’t trying to stop her and he hadn’t used his worry or dire threats to try and convince her to stay with him.

Like the rest of the house, the room was very clean, if simply decorated, and filled with old, worn furniture. It was clear Pam took pride in her house, though she didn’t seem to have much money to spend on it.

“I’m so glad you had a room to rent,” Selina said.

“Honey, you’re helping me out as much as I’m helping you. I don’t know if Babe told you, but I’m still paying off medical bills from cancer two years ago. This income will be very helpful. And the food-and-utilities split works for you?”

Selina nodded.

“Good.” Pam put her hands on her hips and gave a curt but not unfriendly nod. Like Babe, Pam seemed to be a woman who didn’t let warmth and love get in the way of practicality. “I’ve got a lease printed out over on the dining table. Can’t be too careful with these things, even if you are a friend of Babe’s.”

“That seems smart,” Selina said.

As Selina followed Pam out of the bedroom, Marc put his hand on the small of her back. The simple gesture of support meant more to her than she could ever express in words. He stood by her as she read over and signed the lease.

“I’ve got dinner on the stove. Selina, you’re welcome to have some. Marc, do you want to stay for dinner?”

Selina tried not to hope for another hour with Marc, but that was as impossible as not needing to breathe.

“No, thank you. I called Snowdance and arranged a room for tonight. I’d like to drive up the mountain before it gets too dark.”

“I’ll walk you out,” Selina said quickly. She didn’t want him to leave without having a chance for them to talk privately. They didn’t need an audience for the end of this relationship.

Out in the cold, standing by Marc’s SUV, Selina shivered.

“Feel okay about this situation?” he asked.

“Yes. It will be good.” She wasn’t simply saying that; she actually believed it. Pam was kind. She’d seen the bus lines down the street. There were almost always waitressing jobs available, and then there was a matter of college, of course, but that could wait a couple of months. She might get a job at a gallery, and if not, she could volunteer at one of the art museums. Babe was already working on selling her car, too, so the money from that would give Selina a little safety net.

“More than good,” she said, her voice stronger in the crisp night air. “I’m in a much better place right now, and I have you to thank for it. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to repay you.”

Being here, she realized that it hadn’t even been the money that had been keeping her in her hometown. She had needed a push. And a pull. Gary had provided one; Marc had provided the other.

Only, it wasn’t just gratitude that was welling up in her chest. Marc was the man she had needed at the time, but in another life, in another situation, she would have liked to develop their relationship more. The affection warming her down to the tips of her toes could turn into love if she let it.

He put his hands on her shoulders, rubbing up and down her arms and along her biceps, generating even more warmth in her body. It wasn’t just the touch. It was
his
touch.

“I understand that you don’t want to come with me for the whole winter. You have a life you need to start here. That makes sense. But could I call you when I’m done with my travels? Maybe swing by to see you?” His expression turned serious in the dim light coming off the porch. “I like you, Selina. I like you a lot.”

Her chest swelled at that news, puffing out with pleasure until she was afraid she would pop the zipper on her coat. Thinking he liked her had been one thing; hearing him say it filled a different need entirely.

“I didn’t just want you along with me for company and the chance that we would have sex again, just so you know . . .” he continued. “I wanted you along because I think we could have been something. That maybe there was a future here.”

His phrasing saddened her, his use of the past tense.

“I like you, too, Marc. But you don’t have a future. You’re not even sure you want one. You want your past, and I don’t exist in your past.”

Her words must have stunned him, because he blinked several times, his mouth open and his teeth glinting in the sun. “God, Selina,” he said finally. “When you put it like that . . .”

She put her right hand over his as it rested on her left arm, enjoying the length of his bare fingers and the way he gripped her bicep. She wanted so much for him to say that he would stay, set up some sort of Internet company in Salt Lake City, and take her out to dinner, on a real date. But it had to be what he wanted, not what he felt like he had to do.

“I want to settle down,” she said. “All I’ve ever wanted is a good job that I could be proud of, one that paid me enough to buy a house, and have a family. Travel, but for vacation, not because I need to wander. I’m a person who stays put, grows roots. Only Athol wasn’t a place I wanted to stay.”

She stepped closer, until they were touching, and he wrapped his arms around her. She pressed her head against his chest. “I’m not going to wait for you, but if you ever decided that’s what you want, too, give me a call. It doesn’t even have to be in Salt Lake City. Just give me a call.”

He kissed her hair, then she straightened up to face to him and he brushed his lips agaist her. She could almost stay like this, safe in his arms forever, the breath from his nose hot on her cool face.

But this was a good-bye kiss. There would be no nibbling on her bottom lip or exploring his mouth with her tongue. Whatever happened here—kiss included—wouldn’t end in anything other than them parting ways.

So she pulled away before she gave in to the temptation to get her bags from inside and follow him to the ends of the Earth.

“That’s good-bye, then,” he said, looking down at her, dampness in his eyes.

“And thank you.” She stepped out of his grip, wrapping her own arms around her for comfort and warmth. He reached out for her again, but she stepped back again. One of them had to do it. She could be the strong one if necessary.

He must have gotten the hint because he nodded. “Thank you for coming with me on this journey. I’m not sure where I’ll end up come summer, but I know that the past couple days with you have had a profound effect on me. If I end up doing something else great, it will be because I listened to you. If I don’t, it will be because I wasn’t smart enough to take your advice.”