Holly Lane (8 page)

“But I still have to find a better job, fast,” Sue Ann explained. “And make sure I look like a great mom and all that, just in case Jeff ever did take that step. I mean, I don’t think he would, but . . . I never thought he’d leave me, either. And I never thought he’d marry Ronni and withdraw all financial support this fast as well. So he’s turning out to be . . . ”

“A giant asshole?” Jenny asked.

“Well, I was going to say unpredictable. But I think giant asshole is completely accurate, too.”

“Agreed,” Jenny replied, then let out a big breath as she said, “All right, now on to the next part, which I’m completely unclear on, by the way. In fact, I’m wondering if maybe I misheard you.”

“You mean the part about me having sex with Adam,” Sue Ann said to confirm.

And Jenny was back to looking like Sue Ann was speaking a foreign language. “Okay, see, there are a couple of parts to that sentence that keep confusing me,” she said. “Like the part about sex. And the part about Adam.”

“It’s confusing to me, too,” Sue Ann assured her. “But that’s what happened.”

Again, Jenny went silent for a moment, as if trying to puzzle it all through. “So . . . ” She gave her head a short shake as though trying to clear out some cobwebs. “You’re saying you had sex. And that it was with Adam. Adam Becker. My high school boyfriend who you were still trying to fix me up with just a couple of years ago.”

Sue Ann cringed at the irony.

And then Jenny’s brow knit as the news really, finally sank in. “Whoa. You had
sex
with
Adam
! I really don’t want to act like this is more important than the other stuff, but . . . start talking.”

So after another deep breath, Sue Ann dove in, starting with the department store reindeer, and proceeded to tell Jen the whole tale, which now felt completely exciting and a little lurid. “You realize,” Sue Ann continued, keeping her voice low, “that this is the first time I’ve even kissed someone other than Jeff since I was sixteen.”

“Wow,” Jenny said. “And . . . how was it?”

Sue Ann could only sigh. “Nice.” Then, remembering Adam’s reaction to that lackluster word, she added, “No, wait, that’s a lie. It was incredible.”

Which made Jenny’s eyes light up. “He was a good kisser when we were teenagers, too.”

Sue Ann cast a knowing nod. “Very smooth, confident, unhurried. Like . . . kissing is an art.”

“Yeah.” Jenny sounded nostalgic. “That brings back memories. But . . . how was the sex?” She hadn’t gone that far with Adam back in the day.

And the question only made Sue Ann let out yet one more well-pleasured sigh. “Well, maybe this is just because I don’t have a lot to compare it to, but it was almost . . . magical.”

“Magical? Wow.” Jenny’s gaze widened. “That’s saying something.”

Sue Ann simply nodded.

And Jenny smiled, clearly warming to the idea now. “So . . . you and Adam.”

But Sue Ann shushed her. “Keep it down—my kid’s in the next room. And I don’t plan on telling anyone about this—other than you. Because he and I agreed to just forget about it and move on.”

In response, however, Jenny gave her head a suspicious tilt. “Um, why would you do
that
? I mean, if it was all incredible and magical. And Adam’s a great guy.”

Sue Ann just expelled a heavy breath. She hadn’t been looking for someone to play devil’s advocate; she’d just wanted Jenny to agree with whatever she said. And though she usually told Jenny everything, she couldn’t tell her the story of Adam’s divorce—she’d promised, after all. So she fudged a reply. “Sure, Adam’s nice and all. But do I really need to be trusting another man with my heart so soon, Jen?”

Yet Jenny merely shrugged. “Look, you’re gun-shy right now, which I totally get.” Jenny had been through an unpleasant divorce herself before her bad boy Prince Charming had come along, so Sue Ann had thought her friend would understand her caution.

“For good reason,” Sue Ann pointed out. “It’s just too soon. After the divorce.”

“But it was magical,” Jenny reminded her. As if she could have forgotten.

“Yeah,” Sue Ann confirmed, a bit sadly. “But I have plenty going on in my life without that kind of complication, you know? Especially now. I had enough to deal with already—getting settled, working toward my real estate license, making sure Sophie comes through this okay—and now on top of all that, I need to drastically increase my income, fast. Plus I’m trying to give Sophie a nice Christmas. So this is no time to bring a man into my life.”

No matter how good he made me feel.

No matter how much he might still be on my mind.

Six

It was a cold, clear winter day, with snow upon the ground.

Charles Dickens,
A Christmas Carol

J
enny headed toward the living room, and she carried a tray of red mugs filled with hot chocolate, thick peppermint sticks jutting from each. She was still trying to get over all of Sue Ann’s news—wow, Jeff had married Ronni, and Sue Ann had slept with Adam Becker!—but she didn’t want to leave Mick and Sophie alone too long since her big, bad, sexy husband wasn’t always comfortable around kids and she didn’t want to make things awkward for either of them. Mick had had a terrible home life growing up, his childhood full of dark memories, so maybe he’d just sort of somehow blocked out the part of himself that could relate to being a child. Whatever the case, she figured he’d be in need of rescue by now.

So it caught her off guard to find the two down on the floor amid a string of glowing tree lights, Mick showing Sophie how to dangle them in front of Trouble as he batted his paw at them. “Now wiggle ’em a little,” Mick was saying. “He likes to chase things that move.”

Such a simple sight, yet it warmed Jenny’s heart. Partly because she knew how tough this particular Christmas was going to be on Sue Ann’s daughter, and she figured any little bit of fun would be a distraction from the less happy parts of the holiday season, even just playing with Trouble for a few minutes. But also because she’d never seen Mick look even remotely relaxed around Sophie or any other child. Maybe his comfort now came from the accumulated time he’d spent in her presence over the past couple of years, or maybe the cat and the lights simply provided the right tools to bring the two together in this moment.

But either way . . . well, the unexpected truth was, the scene before her was doing way more than just warming Jenny’s heart right now.

In fact . . . whoa. It literally stopped her in her tracks.

Because—good Lord—she wanted a baby with him.

She hadn’t seen this coming, not at all. Yet she couldn’t deny it. The simple moment had just awakened her maternal instinct when she’d least expected it. She felt it in her heart. And she felt it in her womb.

Wow.

Years ago, she’d begun to face the fact that she would probably never be a mom. Before Mick, she’d been in an ill-fated marriage that had never produced a child, and
since
Mick . . . well, she’d known going in that he didn’t want kids. And she’d understood that, and truly respected it, too. It wasn’t for everybody. And she’d even been okay with it. She loved him like crazy and she knew they could lead a happy and fulfilling life without children as part of the mix.

And yet . . . this one look at Mick with Sue Ann’s little girl was tugging on her heart strings, almost instantly, making her yearn to be a mommy, and to make him a daddy. As the two laughed together now, watching as Trouble pawed madly at the twinkling lights in Sophie’s little hand, it nearly stole Jenny’s breath.

“Um, hello—you’re blocking the doorway,” Sue Ann informed her from behind.

“Oh—sorry.” She moved on, making a wide path around the lights sprinkling the floor, then announced, “Hot chocolate,” as she lowered the tray to the coffee table.

“And cookies,” Sue Ann reminded them all, reaching to open the decorative box she’d brought. As Mick and Sophie both joined them there, Sophie went straight for a reindeer-shaped cookie, complete with a red Rudolph nose.

“So what do you want for Christmas this year, Sophie?” Jenny asked—then almost regretted the question, fearing the answer might have something to do with her parents.

So she was relieved when Sophie said, “A reindeer.”

Her relief was only temporary, however, squelched by the look on Sue Ann’s face. “But I keep explaining to her,” Sue Ann said, “that Santa doesn’t really have any reindeer to spare.”

Oh. Jenny got it. Sophie wanted a completely impossible gift, and it was going to heap one more big pressure on Sue Ann during this first holiday season without Jeff. She knew Sophie’s happiness was Sue Ann’s top priority right now and that she didn’t want to disappoint her on Christmas morning. “True,” Jenny chimed in. “I’m sure Santa would bring you one if he could, but he needs them all to pull his sleigh.”

At this, however, Sophie’s smile faded dramatically. She clearly had her heart set on having her very own reindeer.

Hearing a knock on the door just then, Jenny said, “That must be Amy. I was in the bookstore yesterday, so I invited her to join us.” Amy was the only one in their close circle of girlfriends who remained single—well, besides Sue Ann now. And while Amy never seemed to mind her single status, Jenny had sensed her feeling a little lonely lately, especially now that Rachel and Tessa were both busy making wedding plans.

“Hope I’m not late,” Amy said when Jenny answered the door, then held out a small red box tied with a white ribbon. “I made buckeyes.”

“Mick will love you for that,” Jenny said, since he loved the regionally popular chocolate-and-peanut-butter Christmas candies, then motioned her inside.

As everyone exchanged greetings with Amy and she stooped to scratch Trouble behind the ears, Jenny stood back and watched them all. She’d built a happy life here—far happier than she’d have dreamed possible when she’d returned home to Destiny following her divorce a few years back.
I have everything a girl could want.
A hot and loving husband.
Dear friends.
And a satisfying career.
An astronomer at heart, Jenny loved teaching science at Destiny High.

“Sophie, you should get your mom to bring you by the bookstore soon,” Amy said. “We have a new stray kitten.” Amy, a major cat person, was getting famous around town for taking in strays at Under the Covers, and Jenny almost suspected that people with unwanted cats were actually dropping them off now. “I’m calling him Dickens,” she added.

“Because he’s a little dickens,” Sue Ann guessed.

But Amy just gave her a you’ve-got-to-be-kidding look—she always named the strays after authors she loved, after all, and this one seemed obvious.

“Ohhhh,” Sue Ann said then. “After Charles.”

“ ’Tis the season and all,” Amy reminded her. “But he
is
kind of a little dickens, too, now that you mention it. And Sophie will fall in love with him.”

The cat chatter continued, and soon enough Mick finally began draping lights on the tree branches with Sophie’s help. And Jenny was struck once more by how the vision embedded itself deep down inside her, like . . . a vision of the way things were meant to be, or maybe a vision of . . . Christmases yet to come?

Oh God, I want a baby.
A child.
With Mick.
I really, really do
.

She’d never felt that tug in the same gut-wrenching way she did in this moment. And it was—oh God—downright agonizing. So much so that it forced her to amend her thought from just a few minutes ago.
I have everything a girl could want . . . except a baby.

A baby Mick didn’t desire and would never go for.

She let out a sigh. How had this happened? A little while ago, she’d been perfectly happy, perfectly thankful for all that was so good in her life. But now, in the mere blink of an eye, she hungered for something she could probably never have, and she feared her world would never again feel quite right without it.

S
ue Ann’s first mistake of the day: She’d taken Amy’s advice and stopped into the bookstore while she and Sophie were out running holiday-related errands. She’d thought, just like when Sophie had played with Trouble, that maybe a few minutes with the new kitten, Dickens, would be a nice little distraction for her. Something to take her mind off that impossible reindeer she wanted so badly. But instead she’d seemed . . . too attached to the tiny gray kitten when Sue Ann had announced it was time to go. Sophie hadn’t wanted to leave, and Sue Ann had seen tears welling in her daughter’s eyes. She knew it wasn’t just the cat—it was everything Sophie was going through right now—but she’d felt like a shrew just the same.

Her second mistake of the day: going to buy a Christmas tree without realizing she no longer had an easy way to get it home. Because Jeff had taken the SUV and left her with the Corolla. She’d thought she’d been so smart going to Becker Landscaping at a time when she knew Adam wouldn’t be there—he always met up with Logan Whitaker for lunch at Dolly’s Main Street Café on Wednesdays—but she’d dumbly neglected to remember all the little ways her divorce affected her life, right down to no longer having a vehicle good for hauling large items. And though the guys at Adam’s tree lot had suggested tying it onto the roof of her car, she hadn’t felt confident about that solution. Thankfully, though, that one hadn’t been a
big
problem—Chuck Whaley had taken her address and said they’d be happy to deliver it later this afternoon.

And Sue Ann’s third mistake? Thinking she was capable of putting up the outside Christmas lights by herself. That’s what she was doing now. Although it felt a lot more like hanging onto a ladder for dear life, wondering how you were supposed to maneuver the lights without falling to your death on the ground, and cursing Jeff all over again. At this moment, though, she wasn’t cursing him because she missed him—she was cursing him for not being here to give Sophie the same, familiar Christmas traditions she’d grown accustomed to, leaving it all to her. It wasn’t about love or attachment—it was only about anger, and maybe also a little about abandonment.

But I can do this.
My mother did it, after all, for all those years, without ever a complaint.
Sue Ann’s father had died from a heart attack when she was just a little girl, even younger than Sophie. Her mom had never remarried—had never even appeared to have the faintest interest in any man but her dad, actually—and yet somehow she’d handled every aspect of their lives just fine. So Sue Ann tried to summon her mother’s quiet strength, respecting it all the more now.

She would have gladly forgone the lights this year, but just like that dumb reindeer, it was one more thing Sophie kept asking for, and one thing Sue Ann had—crazily, it seemed—thought she could provide. So up the ladder she’d gone, and now here she was, wondering how the hell she was ever going to get the string of lights, which trailed down to the snowy yard beneath her, where they needed to go. Yes, she loved her home, situated just a few blocks from the heart of town, but it suddenly seemed so . . . tall. And wide.
Why did I ever think we needed a house this big?
She might be at this for weeks.

Unfortunately, though, her thoughts were swept rapidly back to Mistake Number Two when she glanced up to see—oh dear God!—Adam’s pickup meandering down Holly Lane with her Christmas tree in back. Sheesh. She’d been trying to
avoid
seeing him, not create an awkward one-on-one, face-to-face, in-home encounter.

Despite herself, her heart pattered rapidly in her chest as he turned into her snow-covered driveway. And as he got out, wearing a flannel shirt under a dark, puffy winter vest—oh Lord, he looked good. Even in flannel, just like at the cabin. He clearly hadn’t shaven in a couple of days, leaving a dark stubble on his jaw, and his hair was again mussed, this time likely from a cold, breezy afternoon at the tree lot. When on earth had she developed a thing for the outdoorsy, rugged type?

Admittedly, Adam
usually
looked good, but the effect it had on her had definitely changed. Now she felt it aching in her breasts and—oh boy—tingling between her legs. And she still couldn’t quite wrap her mind around the fact that she’d had sex with him. In fact, in the days since it had happened, it had started to seem a little . . . like a dream, or a fantasy or something. But seeing him now brought the reality back with startling clarity.

That’s when she glanced down at herself. She’d changed into ragged blue jeans and donned an old parka over a sweater. An ancient knit hat was tugged down over her ears, and her hair likely sprouted every which way beneath it.

Not that it really mattered what she looked like, of course. As she’d reaffirmed to Jenny the other day, it had only been a one-time thing. That was the only sane way to handle the situation . . . for oh so many reasons. And that put them back to being friends, just like always. Which was why she shouldn’t feel nervous at all.

Except that she did. And why had she put on that stupid hat anyway?

The only good news here was that his arrival gave her an excellent reason to come down off the ladder of death that currently held her. Which, she suddenly realized, was easier thought than done. The lights currently looped around her arm, but coming down meant releasing the firm hug she had on the nearest rung and moving backward.

And—uh-oh—the first step gave her the sensation of falling, especially when the ladder wobbled. She let out a gasp and grabbed back on as her heart rose to her throat.

“Whoa there,” she heard Adam say below her, and a glance down nearly stole what little sense of balance she had at the moment. She tightened her grip and tried not to hyperventilate.