“Dad?”
Eyes shut, slouched in the most uncomfortable airport waiting-room seat ever, Nolan Clarke “hmm’d?” at his six-year-old son. He had nothing against Albuquerque, but getting stuck there the week before Christmas because the airplane that was supposed to take them to Dallas had decided to take a sick day didn’t exactly top his list.
“That elf just said a bad word.”
Nolan cracked open one eye. “Elf?”
“Over there,” Casey said, pointing toward check-in.
Hoisting open his other eye, Nolan looked. His son hadn’t lied. There, groaning at the big “DELAYED” sign on the board, stood one seriously pissed green-haired elf in a red top, green shorts (with suspenders), candy-cane striped stockings and kick-ass Nike running shoes.
Then the elf turned and Nolan was the one doing the swearing.
“Dad!” Casey said, scandalized, as Nolan’s heart lunged for his throat.
The elf took a cautious step closer, squinting. Then her jaw dropped.
“Nolan?”
“Evie?”
“You know a real live elf?” Casey gasped, but Nolan was already rising to meet Evie—and time-warping back to another Christmas encounter ten years ago, that one absolutely rife with bad words. And tears and raised voices, slammed doors and broken hearts. Nolan’s chest tightened around the scar tissue.
Color tinged Evie’s face before her gaze dipped to Casey. “He’s yours?” she said, wonder in her voice, as though the Decade Without Evie had never happened.
“Yes,” Nolan said through a thick throat. “This is Casey.”
“You’re married,” she said, not looking up.
“Was married. I’m a widower.” Her Caribbean-blue eyes flashed to his and he registered the stunned pity within them. “You have green hair,” he said, pre-empting her questions.
She smirked. “It washes out.”
“Aw, you’re not a real elf at all, are ya?” Casey said.
Hands on striped knees, Evie crouched in front of Casey, whispering, “I’m
just pretending to be an elf ‘cause it’s Christmas.” Then she bestowed upon his
unsuspecting son the same bright smile that had once been Nolan’s reason for
living. “I’m really an old friend of your
dad—"
Friend, fiancée, love of my life…. But why quibble over semantics?
“—but let’s not spoil it for the other kids, okay?” Evie said.
“’Kay,” Casey said, grinning, instantly head over heels.
Like father, like son.
Evie straightened, hitching her carry-on onto her shoulder. “Well,” she blew out a little too brightly. “Is this weird or what?”
Don’t get sucked in, don’t get—
Too late, Evie thought as Nolan’s calm, steady, Godiva gaze did just that. For ten years she’d fought to forget those extraordinary eyes, always twinkling behind his glasses. That smile. The laughter. The deep, down-home voice. That spine-tingling thing he used to do with—
Don’t.
“So…” Nolan cleared his throat. He nervously eyed the stranded passengers milling around them, reading, sleeping, bitching. Bored, Casey clambered back up onto his seat, swinging his legs. “You’re going home?” Nolan asked.
“Yeah. You?”
He nodded. Coughed. “What’re the odds we’d be stranded in the same airport? At the same gate?”
“I know,” she said. “Crazy, huh?” They both sort of laughed. Nolan gestured that they should sit. So they did, Nolan pulling Casey onto his lap.
“And you’re dressed like an elf because…?”
Evie sighed, something at which she’d become extremely adept lately. “Gig I was doing at a kids hospital ran overtime and the taxi got hung up in traffic on the way to LAX, so I basically threw my bag at the check-in chick and ran for the plane.” She shrugged. “No time to change.”
“So you’re still in L.A., then?”
“Of course,” she said brightly, melting into those chocolate eyes. “You still in Denver?” she asked, trying to ignore how good he smelled and not to think about how cute Casey was, cuddled against his father’s chest…. Or about how much she loved kids and how feeble her prospects were for having her own. That it was getting harder and harder to convince herself she hadn’t been a fool to break it off with this espresso-eyed, velvet-voiced, delicious-smelling man sitting next to her.
“I am,” he said, smiling. “I’m the assistant principal in one of the high schools there.”
Kiss me, she thought, then flinched at her lack of control.
“Happy?” she said, smiling.
“Yeah,” Nolan said, on a genuinely contented sigh. The kind one rarely heard in L.A. Evie wanted to grab that sound and cram it into her purse, along with the tissues and Tampax and Tylenol, so she could take it out and lift her spirits like applying her favorite lipstick. “And what are you up to?”
“Oh, still plugging away,” she said—still smiling. “You know.” Suddenly she was very self-conscious of the ridiculous red and green getup.
“Are you happy?” he asked.
“Absolutely.”
“I’m glad,” Nolan said, like he wasn’t glad at all. “I just can’t believe…”
“What?”
“That it’s you,” he said, letting his gaze slide right into hers, and she had to fight the urge to grab him by the front of his Broncos jacket and—
“I gotta go,” Casey announced.
Nolan’s attention swung to his son. “Again?”
The kid shrugged and Nolan sighed. “Mind holding the fort? I fought off two old ladies for these seats.”
“Sure,” Evie said, determined to stay upbeat and cheerful as she watched the pair walk to the other end of the terminal.
“Miss Elf?”
Startled, Evie blinked at the sudden appearance of a tiny Asian girl in front of her, hugging a dilapidated bunny. Despite feeling as though she’d had rusty nails for lunch, Evie’s heart melted. “Yes?”
“Do you know any Christmas songs?”
“Uh, yeah…but…where’s your family? You’re not alone, are you?”
“Uh-uh, I’m with them,” the sprite said, dismissively gesturing to a family with many loud, older boys.
Just then, a uniformed man at the counter announced they were bringing in another plane from Minneapolis, urging passengers to be patient and to hang on, that they’d be in the air in about an hour.
At the chorus of moans in response, Evie glanced around the waiting area, noting the tired whines and the antsy little limbs climbing over everything. Lots of kids about to blow. Lots of parents about to self-destruct. She looked back at the little girl. “And what kind of sorry elf would I be if I didn’t know Christmas songs?” she said, pushing herself to her feet. “Hey, kids!” she called out, pulling her elf hat out of her bag and cramming it over her spiked, lime-hued hair. “Who’s up for singing Rudolph?”
The plane had barely leveled off before the drone of the engines lulled Casey to sleep, his head heavy against Nolan’s arm. Several rows ahead of them sat the woman responsible for preserving the sanity of all the adults during that last, interminable hour before they finally boarded.
Not only had Evie led the kids in every holiday song known to man, she’d even staged an impromptu production of How the Grinch Stole Christmas, thanks to one little tyke who’d brought the book with him. Evie played the Grinch, of course, her antics and rubber face putting Jim Carrey to shame. It was no surprise that her captive audience was eating out of her hand.
Nolan couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed so hard. Or when Casey had, Nolan thought, shifting so his son could snuggle more comfortably. Nolan smiled, remembering the waves of giggles bubbling up from someplace deep inside his oh-so-serious little boy.
And the sparkle in Evie’s eyes as she unerringly found her spotlight, even in a crowded airport terminal.
Ahead of him, Nolan caught a glimpse of a striped leg and jiggling Nike shoe twenty feet up the aisle. Nothing’s changed. The realization was an anvil weighting the balloon of his earlier good mood. Evie Gallagher was only happy when she was in the spotlight, as if there was simply too much of her to be contained within an ordinary body, an ordinary life. She still pulsed with excess energy, with the need to give of herself, to spread the joy to everyone she met.
Falling in love with her had been a no-brainer. Even if, ironically, the very qualities he’d been helpless to resist ultimately broke them apart.
Nolan let his head drop back against the airplane seat, his breath rushing from his lungs. They’d been so young when they’d met—Evie, a college sophomore, double-majoring in elementary education and theater, Nolan, a first-year grad student in secondary education. They’d been at a lame Texas A&M mixer, but had broken away early and stayed up late. Very late.
She’d never been shy, she’d told him that first night. Whereas other little kids had to be coaxed to sing a ditty for Aunt Susie or recite a poem for Grandma and Grandpa, at three Evie was already lining ‘em all up in the living room and belting out “Tomorrow” from Annie like there wasn’t one. She lived to entertain. But to placate her conservative, middle-class parents, she’d planned on becoming an elementary school teacher. A perfectly acceptable alternative, she’d said, for someone who loved kids as much as she did.
For awhile she did a good job of convincing herself it was the life she wanted, too. Just as she’d made Nolan believe that she’d really wanted to marry him, have his kids, live the suburban middle class dream. They’d been each other’s first great love and best friend. She’d been his light, just as he’d been her ballast, the one person she swore she could always count on when things got crazy. So for three years Nolan had simply ignored the tiny, constant flame of yearning in Evie’s eyes that flared into brilliance whenever she had an audience.
A flame that their love, all by itself, could never douse.
The wedding was barely eight weeks away when she tearfully admitted she wasn’t ready to settle down. To settle, period. Not until she at least took a decent shot at a film career. He could still hear her begging for his understanding…. Please, please understand why I need to do this.
And just like that it was over.
He hadn’t even entertained the possibility of moving with her to L.A. He’d just landed a good teaching position in Denver and he’d hated every second of the few times he’d been to L.A. But really it was because Evie had thrown him a curveball, a ball that had slammed into him and exploded everything he had known to be true. How many times over the next week had he hurled the same arguments at her, that this wasn’t the life they’d talked about, wasn’t what he’d signed on for when he’d asked her to marry him? Suddenly it was all about her, her chance, her career. And where would that leave him?
He’d been…stubborn? Short-sighted? Selfish? Take your pick, he thought, sighing.
They’d never contacted each other afterwards. No phone calls, no e-mail, nothing. God, he’d wanted to die. To even consider falling in love with someone else…impossible.
Nolan glanced down at his sleeping son, his heart flooding with an odd mix of emotions as he recognized some of Carole’s features in Casey. Amazingly, Carole had made him laugh, too. Like Evie, she had also been his best friend. But she had been the wife Evie never could have been…the wife he’d loved with all his heart—at least the parts that were still his to give. Still, Nolan had been startled when her death, shortly before Casey’s first birthday, hadn’t ripped a new hole in that heart as much as it simply enlarged the one already there.
Movement in the aisle ahead of him brought Nolan back to the present. He watched Evie get up, the mild turbulence making her wobble slightly on her way to the front toilets. Once there, she grimaced, then turned to stagger toward the back. Her smile, when she passed, was fake enough to warrant a Made In China sign. A second later, she and her fake smile were gone, leaving Nolan frowning.
Because he knew that look, that “everything’s fine, of course it is,” smile. And once upon a time he would have said, “cut the crap and tell me what’s wrong,” not giving up until she did.
But what would—could—he do now? Nothing. She belongs in the past, he told himself. Nolan resolved to think about something else for the remainder of the flight. Even when Evie lurched back down the aisle, briefly bouncing off Nolan’s seatback on the way.
“We’re starting our descent into Dallas, folks,” the pilot’s blurred voice announced over the intercom. “Please observe the fasten-seat belt sign….”
Beside him, Casey stirred and yawned, then sat up, blinking toward the tiny square of dark looking outside. “Oh, wow…is that Santa?” The middle-aged man sitting next to them smiled. “Those lights over there—see?”
“Could be,” Nolan said, watching the blinking red lights on the single engine plane in the distance.
“But where’s Rudolph?”
“Maybe the sleigh’s facing away from us, so you can’t see him.”
“Oh.” Casey sat back in his seat, satisfied. Only to then say, “Can we see Evie again?”
Nolan started. “See Evie again?” So much for leaving her in the past.
Large, hopeful eyes met his. “Yeah. While we’re in Dallas. ‘Cause she’s cool. An’ you two are friends, right?”
Were friends, Nolan thought as the plane banked, sending Casey’s hands to his stomach and a “I think I’m gonna be sick!" groan from his mouth.
You and me both, buddy, Nolan thought, grabbing the barf bag, just in case.
Maybe after his less-than-noble stubborn/selfish/short-sighted act all those years ago, he owed it to the woman whose smile had once lit up his life to make sure she was okay.
Please, please, please, Evie thought frantically as she scooted down the jetway, just let me get out of here before—
“Evie!”
—they see me.
Still scooting, she twisted around as Casey scampered to catch up with her, beaming. Cute kid. Missing front tooth. Looked exactly like his father, which she decided not to hold against him.
“I saw Santa out the window right before we landed,” the kid said, bouncing more than walking. “An’ then the plane turned sideways and I almost barfed. An’ Dad says he’s not sure you’re really friends anymore, ‘cause it’s been so long since you’ve seen each other, but you still are, huh?”
Oh, Lord.
Evie turned to catch Nolan’s apologetic smile and her heart, already in shreds, flapped limply inside her chest. Fortunately, they didn’t dare stop or they’d get trampled by the hordes. It had been the longest short flight on record, flooded with memories and regrets and guilt and more regrets. And to look at Nolan now you’d never know how horribly things had ended between them you’d only see what had once been.
What could never be again. Because she had plans, baby. Big Plans. And nothin’ or nobody was gonna stop her—
“What Casey’s trying to say,” Nolan said, looking as sane and calm and steady as ever, damn him, “is that we wondered if we could get together sometime while we’re both in town.”
“You’re kidding?” Evie said, coming to a dead stop. Nolan yanked her to safety moments before they got creamed by the family with all those boys.
“We barely got a chance to talk,” Nolan said, meaningfully. Evie stared at him, trying with a weighted look to telegraph: I know—there’s a reason for that, with all her might. At least that’s what she meant to do—before she looked into his eyes and melted. Like a Popsicle on a Dallas sidewalk in July. Then Casey grabbed her hand. Her gaze dropped to his and she realized turning the kid down was going to be even harder than rejecting his father had been. Would be.
Especially since it had been a long time since she’d had anything even remotely resembling sane and calm and steady in her life. A booster shot of Nolan probably wouldn’t hurt, immunizing her against the next ten years of frustration and heartbreak and—dare she admit it?—loneliness.
“Okay,” Evie said, sighing, rummaging in her purse for her wallet as she admitted she was…curious. At least, that’s what she was going with. “Here’s my card, call my cell whenever. You’re at your parents’ place?”
“Yeah,” Nolan said, fingering the card. The movement triggered very distinct memories of how he used to finger…other things, and she zipped right past melting to out-and-out evaporation. Nolan’s eyes lifted. “You sure?”
“Hell, no,” she muttered, moments before she heard her Daddy yell, “Good God, Evangeline Marie—what on earth are you wearing?”
“Oh, now, honey,” Marie Gallagher said, slipping a second piece of pecan pie onto Evie’s plate, “it’s the holidays—you can go back on whatever diet you Hollywood types are into these days after you leave. But while you’re here—” Mama’s round cheeks swallowed her eyes when she smiled “—you can eat like a normal person! After all, you gotta build up your strength for all those classes and auditions and things, right?”
Less than twenty-four hours after her arrival, Evie was torn between a desperate desire to escape and an equally desperate desire to crawl underneath the big, fat comforter in her old room and let her mother feed her until she exploded.
Love was a constant in Evie’s family, just like the same set of decorations that appeared every year—the molded Santa on the front porch, the plastic holly wreath on the front door that warbled “We Wish You a Merry Christmas” and the mantle arrangement of fake pine boughs, red pillar candles and glittered cones. That love was a cord not easily broken, though—just like those ornaments—it did get a bit frayed around the edges from time to time. As long as she didn’t ask for money, her family gave their grudging acceptance of her career choice. Not that they understood how anybody could keep at something for so long for so little return, but then these days Evie wasn’t really sure she understood it, either.
In her sister’s arms at the other end of the table, the newest baby squawked. Evie was the oldest child and the only one not married, a fact everyone’s pitying glance reinforced at every opportunity. As did the inevitable, “So…you got a part lined up in a movie or TV show or somethin’ yet? Somethin’ I might actually see, I mean?”
The memory of Nolan’s kind, calm gaze in the airport popped into her head. Evie immediately popped it back out, neatly replacing it with the image of his shocked, censorious, hurt face that she’d carried with her for a decade. After all, she reminded herself, when she had needed his understanding, Nolan hadn’t been any more supportive of her following her dream than her family, had he?
Just as she didn’t think he’d be particularly sympathetic about her ever-increasing doubts. They weren’t her constant companions—yet—but in the past year they’d started showing up more often, like stray cats. Especially the one that hissed, “Thirty-two years old and what, exactly, do you have to show for your life, huh?”
She really hated that one. A lot.
Dinner over, Evie wandered into her parents’ living room and collapsed on the plaid early-American sofa. She stared at the fake, pre-lit, eight-foot tree laden with every ornament Evie and her siblings had ever made and the inevitable assortment of sweaters, pajamas, toiletries and earrings that lay underneath its plastic boughs with her name on the tags. Ho-hum, they seemed to say, another year gone….
“Wow. Who died?”
Me, Evie thought as she forced a smile for her next youngest sister, Margie, contently nursing the baby across from her. The only one who hadn’t had apoplexy when Evie moved to L.A. “You’ve never had a moment’s doubt about your choices, have you?” she asked her sister.
“Hey. I have three kids. I ask myself what I was thinking every hour, on the hour. Don’t I, sweet pea?” Margie said to the baby, who gurgled at her. She looked back at Evie, frowning. “So what brought that on?”
Evie made a face. Shrugged.
“Things not going well?” Margie said sympathetically.
“Not really,” she said. “But if you tell Mom and Dad, I’ll have to kill you.”
“Then you’d get my kids. And Harold. So you might want to rethink that. But don’t you dare even think about giving up, Evie. You’re far too talented. You just haven’t gotten your break yet, that’s all.”
And how long, Evie wondered, could she hold on to that belief?
“Guess who I ran into in the Albuquerque airport?” she said, in a pathetic attempt to change the subject. “Nolan.”
“Nolan? As in, the man-who-was-so-hopelessly-in-love-with-you-that-I-had-to-buy-a-hideous-bridesmaid-dress-I-never-got-to-wear, Nolan?”
“The very one,” Evie said over assorted pangs and twinges. “He’s in town for Christmas.” She paused. “With his little boy. He’s a widower,” she added at her sister’s raised brows.
“And…?”
“And…he asked if we could see each other.”
“Get out.”
Evie sighed. “I know. I would’ve expected him to scream and run in the other direction, too. But no.”
Margie leaned over as far as she could with a baby attached to her breast. “I’ve still got the dress,” she whispered. “Although whether it still fits is another issue entirely—”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I can’t…I couldn’t…he wouldn’t….” Evie shut her eyes and shook her head. “No.”
“But…?”
“But…I feel bad. About how things ended. And here he is, like I’ve been given this chance to…to…make it better. Or something.”
“Then why are you still on that couch?”
Nolan leaned against his parents’ balcony railing, gazing out at the moonlit golf course and thinking vague thoughts about the value of standing outside, at night, in the dead of winter, freezing his buns off. Jerry and Eileen Clarke had lived in the condo so long Nolan almost thought of it as home. Except this wasn’t his home, his home was in Denver, in the cozy two-story Colonial he shared with his son.
The son who’d been talking nonstop about Evie from the moment they left the airport.
Nolan shoved one hand into his jacket pocket, tugging out Evie’s card to thumb the slightly raised print of her cell number, the tiny photo of her grinning face underneath a spray of blond hair. Behind him, the patio door whispered open—he barely stuffed the card back before his mother linked her arm through his.
“Casey’s in his pj’s,” she said, “but I think it’s going to take a tranquilizer dart to get him to sleep.”
Nolan smiled. “You think it’s bad now, just wait until Christmas Eve.”
“Somehow, I get the feeling it’s more than Christmas that’s got him so excited,” she said, and Nolan braced himself. “He certainly seems taken with Evie.”
“All kids are taken with Evie. She loves them, they love her back.”
“So are you going to call her?” When he glared at her, she laughed, holding up her hands in mock defense. “It’s not pushing if it was your idea to begin with.”
“Actually, it was Casey’s idea—”
“Oh, Nolan,” Mom said, chuckling. “Who do you think you’re fooling?” When he didn’t answer, she squeezed his arm and said, “you know we loved Carole. What was not to love? She was a wonderful young woman. But Evie…we were crazy about her.“ She paused. “So were you.”
“That was ten years ago.”
“And it’s been about that long since I’ve seen that look on your face.”
“Utter confusion?”
“It’s certainly utter something.”
Nolan sighed out a breath into the damp, chilly night. “It’s nuts, Mom, but when I saw her again…” He shook his head. “How can I feel so strongly about somebody I haven’t even heard from in more than a decade?”
“Because it’s not ‘somebody,’ sweetie. It’s Evie.”
He looked down into her amused, light-brown eyes. “Aren’t mothers supposed to worry about their children’s hearts getting broken?”
“No sense worrying about something we can’t prevent. Anyway, I think it’s safe to say that’s one tough heart you’ve got in there,” she said, patting his chest. “You’ve lived through it twice already. I imagine you’re strong enough to weather it again.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“Anytime,” Mom said, smiling.
Nolan turned to lean his elbows on the balcony railing. “But even if I did call her…” Another sigh. “I may be older and—God willing—a little wiser, but we’re still the same people we were when we split up. Our goals didn’t mesh then and I sincerely doubt they do now.”
“You don’t know that. And you’re wrong about being the same person you were then. Oh, you’re still the same Nolan at the core, I don’t mean that, but time and experience change everyone. Wears down their hard edges, makes them more willing to remove their blinders.” She forked a long-fingered hand through her graying, shoulder-length hair. “And to compromise.”
“But—”
“Somehow, I imagine they needed teachers in L.A., too. Probably still do. And Evie wasn’t with you when you visited L.A. before. That young woman could make Siberia fun. You didn’t really try to hang on to her, did you?”
That she was only echoing his own thoughts didn’t make hearing them any easier. “So why didn’t you say something then?” Nolan said, his mood darkening.
“I did! You didn’t listen to me any more than you did to Evie—”
“Gran! Dad!” came Casey’s muffled voice through the closed patio door. His feet braced, the kid shoved it open, his eyes like saucers. “You’ll never, ever guess in a gazillion years who’s here!”
“Evie!” his mother sang out, practically shoving her grandson aside in order to smother a very startled—and Nolan noted, no longer spinach-haired—Evie in her embrace.
Huffing like The Little Engine That Could, Evie trotted to keep up with Nolan’s much-longer legs as they marched through avenues of twinkling balconies and glowing doorways positively reeking of Christmas cheer. One overly optimistic soul had even crammed a ten-foot-tall inflatable Frosty onto a nine-foot-tall balcony. Frosty’s hat was a little smushed, but his grin never wavered.
Unlike Nolan, who was clearly not feeling the joy.
“You know, your parents seemed a lot happier to see me than you do,” Evie threw to his back as she trotted. She’d forgotten how much she’d liked Nolan’s parents, as solid and placid and predictable as their son. The fact that she enjoyed those traits in them was a little weird, considering how much she’d rebelled against placidity and predictability. Against normal. Against dull.
His hands knotted in his Broncos jacket, Nolan tossed a glare over his shoulder as they walked, one of those spark-laden glares that made good girls redefine a few things and she thought, strike dull.
“Hey!” Evie smacked his arm, stumbling a little when he wheeled on her, still glaring. “Seeing each other again was your idea! But if you want me to leave, just say the word—”
“What are you doing?”
He’d grabbed her hand and hauled her into a secluded spot tucked between two buildings. Before she could blink he’d cupped her jaw and brought his mouth down on hers. Oh, hmm, okay, she thought and opened to him, rapacious, tasting what she hadn’t tasted in way too long, making those little mmrph sounds in her throat that used to drive him crazy and just like that, ten years went buh-bye.
“I take it that’s a ‘no’ to me leaving?” she said some minutes later, when blood returned to the speech center in her brain.
After several more seconds, Nolan said, unsteadily, “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I was actually hoping there’d be…nothing.”
“Yeah. Me too,” Evie said, belatedly remembering her mission. Unless she was sorely mistaken, this didn’t fix anything. “So much for that.”
Nolan gathered her close, burying his face in her hair and she breathed in his familiar scent and heard the same strong heart beat against her ear and felt everything click neatly into place the way it always had. Fine, so now you know, nothing’s changed, she said to herself, silently whimpering because that was the exactly the problem, wasn’t it?
She tried to pull away. Nolan wouldn’t let her. But she didn’t exactly fight. In fact, she clung to him, as if to absorb all that solidity and stability and sanity, enough to tide her over for awhile. Like the rest of her life.
“And isn’t this stupid?” she said.
“Yeah,” he said, kissing her temple. Holding her tight.
“It’s been too long,” Evie said, fervently, still clinging. “We’ve moved on, made our choices, there’s no recapturing who we used to be.”
“So…maybe this isn’t about recapturing anything.”
Evie arched, looking up at him, trying to read his expression in the dark. “Then what is this about? Besides the obvious we’re-still-combustible-together thing.”
She thought he might have smiled. Even if it did seem a bit pained. “Maybe…this is simply about two old friends catching up?”
“I see. And just how, exactly, are we defining ‘catching up’?”
“Any way you like,” he said. What would she like? Oh hell, she thought and snuggled close again. Who knew when she’d have another opportunity? “I’m leaving on New Year’s.”
“So are we.”
Her head tilted up again, searching his face. “Would that be enough for you?”
A moment’s silence preceded, “It’ll have to be, won’t it?”
Glowering, Nolan watched Evie and Casey, a four-legged, two-headed ball of energy in matching red hoodies and blue jeans, huddled together in front of one of the windows overlooking the zoo’s gorilla exhibition.
“Hey, Case!” Every bit as jazzed as the six-year-old leaning against her, Evie pointed, a streak of sunlight glancing off a trio of tiny studs marching up her ear. “Look at that big dude over there on the rock! Scary, huh?”
“I’m not afraid of him!” Casey said, with all the bravado of a first-grader who wouldn’t recognize caution if it was wearing a name tag.
“Wow, you’re sure braver than I am,” Evie said, hugging him and Nolan wanted to say, For God’s sake, don’t encourage him.
Don’t let him fall in love with you.
It had been Evie’s idea to ease into whatever this was, to keep things light. Casual. So for the last couple of days that’s what they’d done: pizza-and-movie, football-in-the-park, take-the-kid-with-us casual. Naturally, Nolan had carefully explained to Casey that Evie was only a friend and that they were just hanging out for the week. And Casey had nodded like a bobblehead and said, “Yeah, I get it.”
Except whenever he saw Evie, he was all over her, clearly the only kid of a single parent in the country who wasn’t the least bit concerned about adding a third party to the mix. As long as the third party was Evie.
Now, watching them fuse like two drops of water, Nolan wondered why on earth he hadn’t let her go in the airport. Or when she’d tried to pull away after the kiss. Why he’d kissed her at all, resurrecting feelings he had no business resurrecting. What was this about? Some lame attempt to revisit his youth, reclaim the past? Stroke his ego by proving to himself that Evie still wanted him?
“What’s next, Dad?” Casey said, a blur of unbridled joy in front of him and Nolan’s gaze slipped from his son’s eager brown eyes to Evie’s cautious blue ones. Good question.
“Let’s just keep walking and see, okay?”
“’Kay,” Casey said, taking Evie’s hand. He grinned adoringly up at her as she grinned every bit as adoringly at him.
Nolan sighed. What this was about was seeing her in that ridiculous getup in the airport and not being able to catch his breath. What this was about was feeling her molded to him again, her mouth warm and eager under his and realizing he’d missed her far more than he’d ever admitted. It was about not wanting to say goodbye every time they’d seen each other.
That—just shoot him now—he wanted her back.
“I see you guys haven’t gotten very far,” his mother said. She and Nolan’s tall, grinning father materialized in front of them. Dad not being a dawdler, he and Mom had drifted ahead. And now, apparently, they’d drifted back with definite purpose alight in their eyes. Mom sidled up to Nolan, whispering, “Why don’t Jerry and I take Case to see the penguins—give you and Evie a chance to be alone?”
There was a concept. Alone, as in, maybe having a chance to actually talk. To figure out what was really going on between them. Which was not going to happen with Mini Motor Mouth around.
Still…“Good luck with prying those two apart,” he said.
Mom squeezed his arm, then called, “Casey! Let’s go see the penguins!”
“Evie! Come on—”
“We’ll catch up with Evie and your father later,” Mom said, taking his hand. “I promise,” she added when the little boy cast torn eyes in his new best buddy’s direction. Nolan watched Evie as she followed Casey’s benign abduction, her hair warm honey in the sunlight. Her longing was palpable, as though something vital was leaking out of her.
Nolan had the sneaking suspicion his expression probably looked a lot like hers.
“Were we just set up?” she asked.
“Yep,” he said, entwining their fingers, setting off in the opposite direction. This close to Christmas, the zoo wasn’t hugely crowded. But there were just enough other visitors to keep things…casual.
“That’s one terrific kid you got there.”
“Thanks. I think I’ll keep ‘im.”
Evie laughed softly, tucking a hunk of hair behind that thrice-studded ear. “He says he doesn’t remember his mother.”
“He was only a year old when Carole died. So, no. He wouldn’t.”
“Right, I forgot.” She squeezed his hand. He’d already told her about the accident, how Casey’s car seat had saved his life, how Carole had hung on for nearly a week before the doctors had said there really wasn’t any point in keeping her on life support.
“It can’t be easy, being a single father.”
“Is anything?”
“No,” she said on a breath. “I guess not. But you’ve done an incredible job, you really have.”
“Thanks,” Nolan said quietly, his chest tight. They passed a gaggle of foreign tourists and a family with four kids. From his stroller, a toddler waved at them. Evie waved back, chuckling when he clapped his hands. Then she sighed.
“Life rarely works out the way we expect, does it?”
And there it was, the crack in her Happy-Happy veneer. “Want to talk about it?”
“It?”
“Whatever’s making you unhappy.” When she stiffened, he said, “Evie. This is me you’re talking to.”
“I’m a big girl now,” she said quietly, looking straight ahead again. “Big girls figure out stuff on their own.”
“Who says?” When she snorted, Nolan tugged her around to face him. “I know we always thought we were such good friends, but looking back… In a lot of ways, I let you down. We talked, yes, but I wasn’t really listening. Well, I’m listening now. If I can’t give you anything else, I can give you that. So…” His brows dipped. “Define stuff.”
For a long time, Evie searched those steady brown eyes, self-preservation warring with a sudden, overwhelming need to open up to somebody about her feelings. But to Nolan? That was a path beset with all manner of snarling beasties. Still, she couldn’t talk to her so-called friends about any of this, or her family, nor could she afford to pay somebody for the privilege—
Oh, what the hell?
“Pretty much everything, actually,” she said, figuring she’d deal with the beasties later.
“Well, good, that narrows it down.”
She smiled at his joke before she resumed walking—and her train of thought. “Do you ever wonder what your life would be like if you’d done things differently?”
“Sure. Who doesn’t?”
Not what she’d expected. Not from Nolan. “But you always seemed so single-minded about what you wanted.”
“I didn’t say I regretted my choices, Evie. Which wasn’t what you asked.”
“So…you’re content?”
“I didn’t say that, either,” Nolan said carefully. Softly. “I love my work, sure. And Casey’s incredible. When he’s not driving me nuts,” he added, grinning. “I have a lot to be grateful for. But I’d ditch the ‘single’ part of my life in a heartbeat. Under the right circumstances.” Then he added, with even more care, “You were pretty single-minded about what you wanted, too.”
“Yeah. I know.” Evie let go of his hand to slip hers into her hoodie pocket as the beasties closed in, baring their nasty, yellow, razor-sharp teeth. “There’s a large part of me that doesn’t want to talk about this. Actually, there’s a large part of me that wishes we’d never seen each other in the airport.”
“Tell me about it.”
A sigh swallowed her laugh. “I was confused enough before I saw you again. Now I feel like my head’s going to explode.”
“So why are you here?”
“Because…” She stopped, looking up at him, forcing the words to the surface. “Because I hate the way things ended between us. So maybe… I don’t know, maybe this is fate’s way of giving me a chance to make up for that. At least a little. Don’t get me wrong—what I wanted then, I still want. But it was never supposed to be an either/or thing. I desperately wanted you to come with me.”
“I know you did, Evie, but—“
“But as much as I still love L.A., I know you would have been miserable there.” Reaching for his hand again, Evie leaned against his arm. “And I would have been just as wretched if I hadn’t gone. Hadn’t tried.”
Nolan dropped her hand to swing an arm around her shoulders and she got all shivery, like a thirteen-year-old with her first boyfriend. Especially when his thumb started lightly, tenderly, stroking her jaw. “And I’m assuming if you keep talking this will eventually make sense?”
“I wouldn’t count on it,” she said with another dry laugh. “I knew it wouldn’t be easy, trying to break into films. I just didn’t fully realize how hard it would be. Or how little I’d have to show for it after ten years. So, yeah. Life’s not exactly a bed of roses right now. And yet—”
“You’re not ready to give up.”
“It’s insane, I know. But it’s more than that. It’s—” On a groan, she pulled away to drop onto a nearby bench. Her elbows gouging her knees, she scrubbed her face, her shoulders heaving with her short, hard breaths. Nolan sat beside her.
“If this is about what your folks will think—”
“No,” she said, letting her hands fall, “it’s about what I think. How I’d feel about myself if I threw in the towel too soon. Of course, the irony is that I’ve barely had a chance to do my thing the whole time I’ve been in L.A. Unless you count the occasional trade show or commercial. The pilots that never air, the bit parts that get cut… Oh, I was a singing waitress for a while. Until the owner decided my boobs weren’t big enough.”
“Shows how much he knows,” Nolan said and she choked out a little laugh.
“But hope springs eternal, you know? I’ve got a trade show lined up for February that will pay enough to keep me afloat for another few months. And there’s actually a decent audition coming up, for a ‘small but important role’ in a major studio film. My agent swears I’m perfect for the part.”
“That’s great,” Nolan said, almost as though he meant it.
“Yeah,” Evie said, almost as if she did. “But here’s the thing.” She looked up at him, tortured. “Whenever I see somebody with a baby, I get these…pangs. That I’m missing out on that front, too. I come home to all my nieces and nephews and I see you and Casey and I think: I gave that up. I gave you up,” she said softly, the back of her throat scratchy, “for something that may not even happen, no matter how much I want it.” She swiped at her cheek. “I know I’d hate being just a soccer mom. And yet there are nights when I lie awake thinking I’d kill for exactly that.”
“Well,” Nolan said, carefully taking her hand. Kissing her knuckles. “I could…I could give you that. If you ever change your mind, I mean.”
Her throat clogged. “After everything…you still feel the same? After all this time?”
“Yes. After all this time,” he said, with a calmness that bordered on scary.
“You were married,” she said, clutching at straws.
“And I never once thought of Carole as a substitute for you, I swear. And if we’d met again while I was still married, this—” he pointed back and forth between them, “—would not be happening. But it is. And I’m not going to pretend it isn’t.”
When she opened her mouth to say…something, he slipped his palm to the back of her neck and kissed her, right out in public, a gentle kiss that hinted of a hell of a lot more and everything started sizzling all over again. Which only further confused her. “What I wanted then,” Nolan whispered, their foreheads touching, “I still want, too.”
“So why can’t I just accept that?” she said, bereft, burrowing against his chest. “Why can’t I simply say, Okay, I’ve tried the film career thing, it didn’t work…next? Why am I so hell-bent on wanting what I can’t have?”
Nolan held her close, his cheek in her hair. “I have no idea, honey. But I know exactly how you feel.”
Evie arrived back at her mother’s house to the smell of fresh-baked sugar cookies, distant giggling and Bing Crosby crooning from an ancient album of Christmas favorites. Next up was Alvin and the Chipmunks, she thought. Or maybe the Boston Pops.
In full-out, boss-elf mode, Mama was in the kitchen, surrounded by umpteen trays of cookies in various stages of production and nearly as many grandchildren in various stages of sugar overload.
“Aunt Evie!” they all screamed, rushing her. Her eyes burned as a half-dozen eager beavers pelted her with "come-see-what-I-mades", dragging her willingly into the fray to "ooh" and "ahh" and help.
But suddenly the whole afternoon boiled over inside her—all those confessions and admissions and a realization or two tossed in for good measure—and no matter how hard she tried she couldn’t keep her lower lip from trembling. Mama took one look at her, shoved a plate of warm, over-decorated cookies into somebody’s hands and said, “Go find Grampa. Yes, all of you, scoot…” and they scooted.
Evie swiped what might have been either an angel or a Santa off another plate and tried to scoot, too. Except Mama said, “You get yourself right back here, young lady,” so Evie morosely trudged back to the counter and hauled herself up onto a barstool. “Here,” Mama said, plopping an open, filled tin under her nose, this one redolent with the pungent aroma of ginger and molasses.
“Ginger snaps!” Evie cried, reaching out, only to have Mama snatch back the tin, looking fierce.
“Not until you tell me what the Sam Hill is going on with you.”
Evie folded her arms, glaring at the cookies held hostage under her mother’s bosom. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“Not if you don’t explain it to me. Although I’m guessing your bad mood has something to do with Nolan?”
“Yes. And no. Can I have a cookie now?”
“You’ll have to do a lot better than that, missy,” Mama said, waving the open tin close enough for the fumes to make Evie crumble like one of those cookies in milk.
Ten minutes, a half dozen tissues and untold devoured ginger snaps later, Mama heaved out a sigh. “I knew no good would come of you taking up with Nolan again.”
Snuffling, Evie reached for another cookie. “I’ve hardly ‘taken up’ with him. And anyway, I thought you and Daddy liked him?”
“Shoot, there were times we liked him better than some of our own kids. Including you, Miss Fame’s-More-Important-Than-Love.”
Evie’s mouth fell open. “Fame? What fame? I just told you—”
“That things haven’t exactly worked out the way you’d hoped they would. I know. But isn’t that why you went out to L.A.? Why you’re still there? Why you walked away from one of the best young men who ever lived?”
“No!” Evie said, startled. “It wasn’t about…about becoming famous! It was just about doing what I loved! About being me, Mama.“
Her mother’s nostrils flared. “There’s nothing wrong with being a wife and mother, you know.”
“I never said there was! And I do want a home and kids, the whole nine yards. I just don’t want only that. Why is that so hard for you to accept?”
“Honey,” her mother sighed, clearly exasperated, “all your father and I have ever wanted for any of you kids was for you to be happy. But being happy isn’t only about what you want.”
“You think I don’t know that?” Trapped in her mother’s unwavering gray gaze, Evie said around a cookie, “Why do you think I’m so conflicted? I still love Nolan,” she said, tears burning her eyes at the admission. “And Casey…oh, God, Casey’s just wrapped himself around my heart. But he deserves someone who’s completely committed to being his mother. So you tell me how I’m supposed to reconcile these two parts of myself without hurting somebody in the process.”
“You don’t,” Mama said, in a tone that somehow managed to be sympathetic and hard as ice. “What you do is end it. Before that happens.” The oven timer dinged. “Tell the kids to come on back,” she said gently, manning her potholders. “We’ll talk more later if you want.”
Yeah, like that last conversation had gone so well.
Evie walked out of the kitchen, munching on one last ginger snap while she delivered her mother’s message to her nieces and nephews. Just as she was wiping the last crumbs from her fingers, Nolan called her cell. “Are you free tonight?” he said, his voice low…dangerous. Evie’s skin prickled.
“Uh…yeah, I suppose—”
“Good. I’ll pick you up at seven. Bring an overnight bag.”
The prickles turned to needles. “Excuse me?”
“It’s nearing the end of our week…” His breath hitched. “One night together, honey. All by ourselves.” He paused. “To say goodbye.”
Her eyes burning, Evie held the cell to her chest. Somehow, Evie didn’t think this was what her mother had meant by ending it—she doubted Nolan was thinking of “goodbye” in terms of polite conversation over a game of Scrabble.
But then, she’d always thought Scrabble was overrated.
Nolan glanced at the frowning woman beside him in his father’s classic T-Bird as they left the city limits, heading north toward his parents’ lake house. “You could have said ‘no,’ you know.”
Evie’s gaze flicked to his, then away. “But you knew I wouldn’t.”
“Hoped. Not knew.”
She nodded, then settled into a silence that was in all likelihood more about finding her center, of recharging, than shutting him out. She’d always said he was one of the few people who didn’t take it personally when she simply didn’t feel like talking. So he was surprised when, not long after, she suddenly said, “Why didn’t you just break it off over the phone?”
“Why didn’t you?”
More silence. Then: “According to my mother, I’m a self-involved fool who doesn’t know a good thing when she sees it.”
“I take it I’m the ‘good thing’?” he said, smiling despite the heaviness crushing his chest.
“Don’t let it go to your head.”
“Going after what you want doesn’t make you self-involved,” he said quietly. “And after watching you with Casey…no. I have nothing but respect for your mother, but she’s definitely got the wrong end of the stick there.”
“What about the fool part?”
He smiled over at her. “Now, there, I just might have to agree with her.”
“Yeah,” she sighed. “Me, too.” A moment later: “So. Talk to me.”
“About?”
“Whatever you’ve taken such great pains to avoid over the past few days.” She glanced at him. “Carole, especially.”
“You don’t—”
“Yes, I do,” she said gently. “I’ve unloaded to you plenty. Your turn.”
So he did. And as the miles passed, Nolan was amazed to discover that the more he talked about his wife, the smaller that hole in his heart became. When he spoke about Casey, though…
“Sorry,” he said when his throat tightened. “It’s just…Case and I haven’t spent a night apart since his mother died.”
Evie let out a soft moan then unlatched her seat belt to slide across the bench. She fastened the middle seatbelt and leaned against him, her hand lightly clasping his knee. “I’m honored,” she said quietly. Several more miles passed before she said, “I don’t suppose there’s a fireplace in this house?”
“As a matter of fact, there is. Why? Are you cold?”
Scooching closer, she inched her hand up his thigh. “No,” she said, sounding like the daring, sparkly-eyed Evie of old and Nolan bit his tongue to keep from making some lame comment about their going out with a bang.
Evie watched the shadows play across Nolan’s bare back as he stoked the waning fire. They’d had good-bye sex before, of course—sex pulsing with anger and sorrow and frustration. This time, though… The frustration was still there, she supposed, but the last hour had been more about the unexpected thrill of running into an old friend. She gave a short laugh.
“What’s so funny?” Nolan said, pivoting toward her, unconcerned as ever about his nakedness. And let it be hereby noted that the intervening years had been extraordinarily kind to him.
Lying on her stomach atop the comforter they’d dragged off the queen-size bed, Evie smiled at him. “We are, I suppose. Being so civilized about this and all.”
Nolan stretched out beside her, his head planted in his palm as his fingers rippled down her spine. “Sorry to disappoint, but I’m not feeling terribly civilized right now.”
“This was your idea,” Evie said, in one motion pushing him onto his back and straddling him, shivering in anticipation of his touch. He smiled when her nipples beaded and he bent forward to take one in his mouth. He knew exactly how hard to tug, to suck, to tease. And maybe it was sappy, but it was true—there’d never been anyone like him, no one who even bothered to remember from one time to the next what she liked, let alone after ten years.
“I know,” he murmured, lifting her off, laying her on her back. She shivered again, opening to him, smiling at the gentle puffs of warmth on her skin as he traced old, familiar paths with his mouth, his tongue. “But I’d forgotten how good you feel…and taste…how good you make me feel—”
“Don’t spoil it,” she said, tears crowding her eyes.
“Not to worry,” he said, tonguing her until she climaxed so hard she thought she’d have a stroke. She’d barely caught her breath before he spread her knees and sank deep inside her, deeper than anyone else, ever. Maybe living in the burbs wouldn’t be so bad if I had this to look forward to on a regular basis, she thought. Then all thought was banished by another explosion of heat and light and love, this one even more spectacular than the first.
Afterwards they clung to each other, silent and still, as the fire burned down, leaving nothing but ash and a weird, unfamiliar sensation in the center of Evie’s chest. Her forehead crimped and she rummaged around in her brain until finally, she figured out what it was.
Contentment.
Nolan held her until she was all cried out.
He found Evie outside the next morning, wearing his Broncos jacket over her turtleneck and jeans, watching the sun come up over the still, cold lake. Barefoot, his corduroy shirt half unbuttoned, he threaded his arms around her waist from behind and she leaned into his embrace. A good sign, he thought.
“I can’t tell you the last time I made love four times in one night,” he mumbled into her hair and she laughed softly. “But I’m pretty sure it was with you.”
“Same here.” She paused, then said, “Funny how I’d assumed—”
“What?”
“That…before, it was just because it was still so new. That we were so new.”
“The young and the horny?”
“Something like that, yes.” She turned in his arms, honesty raw in her eyes. “That wasn’t it, was it?”
“Apparently not.”
Curling into his chest, Evie tucked her head under his chin. “I was wrong. There’s nothing even remotely civilized about this.” Nolan shut his eyes against the pain of the truth of their circumstances.
Her breath warm against his neck, she said, “You didn’t bring me here to say goodbye. You were hoping I’d change my mind.”
Half smiling, he pressed a kiss into her hair. “Can you blame me for trying?”
She reared back to give him a sad smile. “Since it almost worked…no.”
Nolan’s heart jolted. “Almost?”
Evie lowered her eyes to his chest. “It really is like we just picked up where we left off. I wouldn’t have thought it possible, but…” She lifted her gaze. “But then, it never was about a lack of love.” His shirt front clutched in her hands, she shook her head, tears brimming over her lashes. “And it still isn’t.”
Nolan lightly kissed her mouth then let her go, turning to face the lake, barely aware of the chilly breeze. Fingers shoved into his pockets, he said, “I’d never try talking you out of doing whatever you need to do. But it just seems to me…” He turned back. “Sweetheart, trying to be yourself shouldn’t mean losing yourself in the process.” At her wide eyes, he plowed ahead. “You’re not really doing what you want to do—you’re doing what you think you’re supposed to be doing in order to get there. Wherever there is.”
“Nolan—”
“I’m not finished. I really do want you to be happy, Evie. Sure, in a perfect world, that’d be with me and Casey. But if that’s not to be…” He sucked in a breath. “I can deal with that. What I can’t deal with is knowing that you’re not happy. If you’re half as lonely as I am, I know how much you’re suffering. And I just want you to be really sure what you’re putting yourself through is worth that.”
She couldn’t have looked more hurt if he’d actually smacked her and he felt like dirt. But if he had to let her go—again—the least he could do was be up-front with her.
It may not have been the gift she’d expected, but it was the only one he had.
The next couple of days were a flurry of last minute shopping and cooking and clandestine wrapping, keeping Evie busy enough to ignore the constant thrum of regret following her last night with Nolan. And it kept her mother too busy to ask questions about the same thing. Still, Nolan’s words churned relentlessly in her brain, as though if she just thought about them long enough and hard enough, some magic solution would eventually work its way to the surface.
But here it was Christmas Eve, the night of miracles, and the only thing churning was Mama, all aflutter about the church’s annual Children’s Pageant, even though she’d been in charge of the thing for at least a hundred years.
“Where the Sam Hill are the angel wings?” She now muttered as she zipped past Evie in the church hall, crawling with all manner of very excited shepherds, angels and stable critters.
“You mean these?” Evie said, holding up the pitiful conglomeration of chicken wire, construction paper and glitter she’d worn herself more than twenty years ago.
“Land, yes,” Mama said, snatching them out of Evie’s hands and zooming to the other side of the room where a bell undoubtedly tinkled soon thereafter.
“Is Miz G. okay, Miss Evie?” A tiny blond lamb asked, tugging at the sparkly Christmas sweater Mama had thrown at Evie earlier with a barked, “wear this!” Smiling, Evie squatted in front of the child, straightening out crooked lamb’s ears as she willed the child’s innocence to soothe her tattered soul. “Yeah, she’s fine,” Evie said, wrinkling her nose. “She just wants everything to be perfect, ‘cause it’s Christmas Eve and all.”
“Me, too,” the little girl said seriously. Evie laughed and gave the kid a quick hug, thinking how seeing the world through children’s eyes always renewed her spirit. Casey, in particular, had such a quiet sense of wonder about him. And the thought tickled…wouldn’t working with kids be great—?
“Evie! Thank goodness!”
She stood as the choir director bore down on her, robe and jowls flapping. “Krissy Stevenson’s got the flu! Please tell me you can sing ‘O Holy Night’!”
“Oh! Um, sure. As long as Florence lowers it by a third—”
“Bless you!” The man’s bony body sagged in relief. “Here,” he said, shoving the royal blue robe into her hands before flying off again. Around her, she heard the murmurs build and swarm—Evie Gallagher was going to sing, wasn’t that wonderful, it had been so long…. She looked up and saw Mama looking pleased enough to burst. And it hit her, with an almost blinding flash, what had really been missing from her life these past ten years.
The solution was so obvious, so right. Her heart pounding, she scurried into the ladies’ room, digging her cell phone out of her pocket while simultaneously fighting her way into the blue robe. But before it could ring, Mama stuck her head inside and yelled, “What the Sam Hill are you doing? They need you in the sanctuary, now!”
“But I thought you said we weren’t gonna see Evie again?” Casey said from the backseat as Nolan careened through the Vegas-worthy streets, trusting that the Gallaghers hadn’t given up on a tradition of forty years.
“I didn’t think we were,” Nolan said distractedly as he pulled into the church’s parking lot, finally finding a space in a galaxy, far, far away. He swung open Casey’s door and hauled him into his arms to hotfoot it across the lot. “But then I remembered her family’s here every Christmas Eve, and I thought you might like it. I don’t actually know if we’ll see Evie—”
“But you hope so, huh?”
Nolan smiled at his son. From the moment the revelation of what he had to do hit him not a half hour before, he’d felt as though fireworks were going off in his chest. “Yeah. I do,” he whispered as they slipped into a pew near the back of the sanctuary.
“Look, Dad—Evie’s gonna sing!”
He’d forgotten how incredible it was to watch her in all of her glory. Her voice was deeper, richer, than he remembered. He noticed how…tranquil she seemed. At peace. With her decision? He wondered. Well, good, he thought, bolstered. That should only make things easier, right?
The minute the service was over Nolan grabbed Casey again and made tracks for the church hall—which was packed with people. And Evie was short. Suddenly, though, the seas parted, and there she was, staring at him, shocked. He saw her mouth his name, then burst into the brightest smile he’d ever seen. A minute later, they’d forged toward each other through the chattering, laughing crowd to meet in the middle of the room, where they both started talking at once.
“No, no, listen,” Evie said, beaming, her hand tight in his. “I tried to call you earlier but then I had to fill in for the soloist and—” She waggled her free hand.
“Never mind. You were right—I had lost myself! I’ve been going about this the wrong way completely! And if we hadn’t run into each other…if you hadn’t had the courage to say all that…”
Biting her lower lip, she shook her head. “It was never about being famous,” she said into his eyes. “It was about doing what I loved. About being appreciated. And I can do that anywhere, right? Even…” Her smile broadened. “Even in Denver. In fact, maybe I can start my own theater one day! One with an awesome children’s program,” she said, ruffling Casey’s hair. Her gaze swung back to Nolan’s. “So I’m calling my agent first thing after Christmas, telling him I’m not coming back.” Then she frowned. “Why are you laughing?”
Nolan slipped an arm around her waist and whispered in her ear, “Because I’d just decided to look for teaching posts in L.A. Because I can teach anywhere, too.”
Evie pulled back, her eyes popping. “You’d do that for me?”
“I’d do anything for you,” he said, and her eyes got all shiny.
“Even…marry me?” she said.
“Done,” and then he kissed her—
“Hey,” Casey said, yanking on his hand. “What’s going on?”
His heart about to burst, Nolan smiled into Evie’s eyes. “I think I just got you a new mom for Christmas.”
“Yes!!! This is the best Christmas ever!” Casey cried, loud enough to turn heads in a twenty-foot radius. Laughing, Nolan yanked Evie close, making her squeal. “Merry Christmas,” he whispered.
She threw her arms around his neck. “You, too,” she said, peace and joy and love shining in her eyes, a promise that they’d never let each other go ever again.
The best Christmas ever, indeed.
The End