Home on Apple Blossom Road (Life in Icicle Falls) (17 page)

“Did you see the bride just now?” he asked.

Mia shaded her eyes. “It’s easy to imagine you see something.”

He didn’t think he’d imagined the bride, but maybe he had. Either way, what did it matter?

Mia turned her back on the view and swept one hand under the bench. “Here it is!” A moment later she’d pulled out the envelope containing their next clue. She sat down, opened it and read, “‘I hold your next clue but you’ll have to shake me to see something new.’”

“She’s making them harder,” Colin said.

“No lie.”

“What do you shake?” he mused, sitting down beside her on the picnic bench. “Maracas. Cocktails.” He could use a drink about now.

“Salt? Maybe the clue’s in a salt shaker at one of the restaurants here.”

“Maybe,” he said. “But what about the rest of it, the part about seeing something new? What do you shake and end up seeing something new?”

They sat in silence for several minutes. Mia was probably thinking about their clue, but all Colin could think about was her. Being in such close proximity had him wanting to grab her and kiss her and never come up for air, made him wish he hadn’t been such a fool when they were young, made him wish he wasn’t being such a fool now.

What was he doing with Lorelei, anyway? She was cute and fun, inspiring with all that ambition and energy. But how did what he had with her measure up to what he’d once had with Mia?

Mia again, he thought. He had to stop using her as the gold standard by which he measured all other relationships. If only all those old feelings weren’t coming back in force.

Stick with Lorelei. She’ll never give you heartburn the way Mia did
.

She brought him out of his reverie with the snap of her fingers. “That’s it!”

“What’s it?”

She was already off the bench and headed for the trail. “Come on. We need to go to Christmas Haus.”

“Okay, what am I missing here?” Colin asked as they walked back down the trail.

“There’s only one thing I can think of that you can shake and see something new.”

Then it hit him. “Duh. Of course, a snow globe.”

“Yep. Shake it and you get a snowy winter scene. And the place to get snow globes is...”

“Christmas Haus,” he finished with her. “Ivy’s probably saving one for us with a message on the bottom.”

An hour later, walking inside the popular gift shop that carried all things Christmas triggered an avalanche of memories for Colin. He could still see himself at ten, chasing Mia all over Gram’s house with the ping-pong popgun he’d gotten from Dad. He’d gotten the latest Mario incarnation, too, and for the next two weeks they’d done nothing but play Nintendo. Then there’d been their first Christmas together as boyfriend and girlfriend. The minute the decorations had gone up at Aunt Beth’s house, he’d kissed Mia under the mistletoe, thinking no one was watching.

It had been a kiss full of anticipation and joy. The New Year was full of promise. She’d be graduating. He’d give her that ring. They’d be together for the rest of their lives.

“Ha! Caught ya,” Uncle Mark had teased, making Mia pull away, blushing. But the way she’d looked at Colin said it all.
I love you
.

That December he’d given her a tree ornament, a glass angel holding a little banner that read
Love
. Mrs. Bohn had wrapped it for him and he’d walked over to Aunt Beth’s house that same day, insisting Mia open it right then, even though it was only the middle of the month.

“It’s beautiful,” she’d said and hung it on the tree. “Our first ornament. Let’s get one every year, so when we’re married, we’ll already have decorations for our tree.”

He’d liked that idea. She’d run out and bought him an ornament, too, a Santa Claus.

She’d also bought him something else. On Christmas Day she gave him a copy of
Wuthering Heights
. She’d tucked a picture of the two of them inside, and on the title page she’d written, “We’re Cathy and Heathcliff, the happy-ending version.”

After they broke up, he’d come home and smashed the Santa, burned the picture, and torn the book to shreds and dumped it in the recycling bin. Then wished a hundred times over that he hadn’t been so impetuous.

He’d wished the same thing when she came home for Aunt Beth’s birthday, engaged to Arthur. If only he hadn’t been such a shit that day in New York. Heck, if only he hadn’t broken up with her, he wouldn’t have had to see her wearing another man’s ring. But the ring said it all. In the end she wanted someone else, something more.

What did she want now? Probably her life in the big city, the fancy job and the big bucks. He, on the other hand, had no desire to go any farther than Icicle Falls. Mia, he supposed, had always been meant for bigger things.

But if that was the case, why did it feel so right having her back here?

* * *

Christmas Haus was one of Mia’s favorite shops, a veritable indoor Christmas-tree farm lit up for the holidays all year round. Every tree on display wore a different color and displayed a different collection of ornaments. There were trees done up in gold, trees in red and ones looking pretty in pink. Some wore elegant oversize balls and ribbons, others offered whimsy, decorated with fairies or princesses or ornaments shaped like old-fashioned candies and strung with plastic popcorn. One tree modeled Santas, while another held hosts of angels.

She tried not to look at the tree with all the angel ornaments. It made her think of the ornament Colin had given her the Christmas everything was perfect between them. She still had the angel. She never brought it out, though. Initially, the idea of seeing it hanging on her little tree was simply too depressing. And then she’d gotten together with Arthur, and it hadn’t seemed right to display it.

She and Arthur started dating in December after Colin had broken up her. He’d taken her to see
A Christmas Story
at the beginning of the month. She’d felt almost disloyal to Colin at first, but then told herself not to be stupid. They were through and that was that.

* * *

“Stay here this Christmas,” Arthur urged. “If you go home, you’ll have to see the jerk and he’ll make you feel bad all over again.”

He had a point. Why should she go home to Icicle Falls and let Colin make her miserable when she could spend the holidays in style with Arthur’s family in upstate New York?

“We’ll have a great time,” he predicted.

Arthur would never have made it as a fortune teller. The moment they pulled up in the circular driveway in front of the massive brick Tudor, she was asking herself what the heck she was doing there.

“Here we are, home, sweet home,” he said cheerily and bounded out of the car to open the passenger door for her.

He was such a gentleman. He’d be a good husband. If he asked her to marry him she should say yes. It was either that or mope around over Colin for the rest of her life. She liked the East Coast. She and Arthur could get jobs with companies in New York or Chicago, move up the ladder, have the requisite two children and someday buy a house in the burbs like this one.

No, not like this one. This was too big. She wanted a cute little Craftsman or a Victorian or a log cabin like the houses in Icicle Falls.

She didn’t have to move to Icicle Falls to find a cute house, though. They had lovely houses out here. And nice people, too. She’d be perfectly happy living the rest of her life here. Yes, she would.

The Cavanaughs’ home was as impressive inside as it was outside, with cathedral ceilings and an entry hall big enough for the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. Curving staircases flanked each side and made their stately way up to a landing, where she saw a giant flocked tree decorated with purple balls and gold bows. An entry table bore an elaborate candle arrangement wafting the scent of evergreens toward her, and drifting out from another room came music, the Mormon Tabernacle Choir—ha!—singing “
O Come, All Ye Faithful
.” More like O Come, All Ye Wealthy, Mia thought as Arthur led her into the house, calling, “We’re here.”

They found an assortment of well-dressed people lounging in an enormous living room with a Douglas fir decorated all in red standing in one corner, presiding over more presents than she’d ever seen in one place in her life. A fire blazed in the river-rock fireplace, and candles sat on the mantel. A middle-aged couple was sitting at a small game table, playing cards. The others, some Mia and Arthur’s age, others older, lolled around on leather furniture, enjoying drinks.

“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” said a tall fortysomething man with the same curly brown hair as Arthur’s. He rose from the sofa, cocktail glass in hand, and gave Arthur a big, slapping hug. “About time you got here, son.”

And right behind him came a woman wearing gray wool slacks and a black cashmere sweater, her ash-blond hair caught up with an expensive-looking gold clip. The diamond on her left hand seemed too big to be real, but judging by the house, it was.

“You must be Mia,” she said, taking Mia’s hands between her slim, white ones. “Arthur’s told us so much about you.”

“He has?” Oh, for heaven’s sake. Could she sound any more gauche?

“All good,” Arthur said with a grin, putting an arm around Mia and pulling her close.

It was only natural. They were dating now. Still, she felt her cheeks warming, feeling several pairs of curious eyes on her.

“Glad to have you with us, Mia,” said Arthur’s father. “We’re a motley crew but we’re usually good for a chuckle.”

The motley crew consisted of an aunt and uncle and a couple of cousins who were taking in her nondesigner clothes, a portly grandfather with the heavily veined face of a dedicated drinker, a slim grandmother with long silver hair, a beautiful Botoxed face and a haughty smile. A chuckle? That would probably happen as soon as she left the room.

“Joyful and triumphant,” warbled the choir from who knew where. Hidden speakers? Maybe they were out in the kitchen, singing. That was undoubtedly big enough to house them.

“Let’s get you settled,” Mrs. Cavanaugh said, and led Mia and Arthur out of the living room. Up the stairs they went and down a lengthy hall. “I hope you two will be comfortable in Arthur’s old room.”

The two of them? Together? They hadn’t gotten that far in their relationship. Mia turned desperately to Arthur, who’d been looking hopeful.

He got the message. “Uh, Mom, can you put Mia in one of the guest bedrooms?”

His mother had just opened the door to Arthur’s room. It was huge, like everything else in this house, all done in shades of brown. The bed was enormous, but Arthur would have no trouble finding Mia in it.

She wasn’t ready to be found. “We’re not, er, we haven’t...” She stammered to a halt, her face flaming as if she was standing in front of that river-rock fireplace in the living room.

Mrs. Cavanaugh’s eyes widened in surprise but she recovered quickly and patted Mia’s arm. “Actually, I’m glad to hear my son is being a gentleman and not rushing you. Abstinence hasn’t been in style for a long time.”

“I hope it won’t be in style much longer,” Arthur murmured, giving Mia a wink.

Mrs. Cavanaugh moved farther down the hall. “Let’s put you in here,” she said and opened a door on another room big enough for an entire family. Cream-colored carpet, eggshell walls, a bed with a sage-green bedspread and a million pillows, and of course it had a fireplace. “I hope this will do.”

How could it not? Mia thanked her, and she left the couple alone, saying, “Get settled and then you can join us downstairs for drinks. Dinner’s at seven.”

“Do you like your room?” Arthur asked.

“It’s beautiful. The whole house is beautiful.”

“So are you,” he said, closing the distance between them and kissing her. Arthur was a good kisser. He would probably be an equally good lover.

“We’d better get downstairs,” she said.

Dinner was slow-roasted beef tenderloin, bread fresh from the local bakery, along with herbed leek gratin, shiitake mushroom–tomato bisque, and a caramel-nut tart for dessert. Conversation started with reminiscences of favorite holiday trips to London and Lucerne. And wasn’t that cruise to all the Christmas markets in Germany fun? Then, of course, politics had to be discussed—if you could call everyone deciding that any outsiders who held a different opinion were idiots a discussion. Mia kept her opinions to herself. No one asked, anyway. And why did Grandma Botox keep looking at her as if she should be waiting the table instead of sitting at it with the rest of them?

It snowed Christmas day and the fire roared in the big fireplace. The presents were extravagant—gold money clips, hundred-dollar gift cards thrown around like oversize confetti, expensive jewelry, the keys to a new car for Arthur’s mom—a little something from Daddy Claus. Mia had been allowed to share the bounty, too, receiving a couple of those hundred-dollar gift cards herself, as well as a Marc Jacobs purse from his parents and a pretty gold locket from Arthur. All she’d brought was a modest twenty-five-dollar iTunes gift card for Arthur and Sweet Dreams chocolates for his parents, which his mother shared with the other women while Mia kicked herself for not bringing more.

Although it would’ve been wasted on Grandma Botox, who tried one and said, “It’s not Vosges, is it?”

What, Mia asked herself, was she doing here?

Moving on, that was what.

“My family loved you,” Arthur said as they drove back to the city.

Well, his parents seemed to. Maybe his grandmother would like her, too, if she changed her chocolate allegiance.

The months slipped away like thieves, and her relationship with Arthur became something more serious than casual dating. It wasn’t what she’d had with Colin, but so what? What she’d had with Colin had obviously only been a storm of youthful passion that had blown itself out. Arthur was sweet, and she was happy with him. He was good for her and she could be good to him.

On Valentine’s Day he took her to the Russian Tea Room for dinner and proposed. She surprised them both by saying no. “It’s too soon. I’m not ready yet. I’m sorry.”

He didn’t look her in the eye. Instead, he looked at the ring sitting in its little box on the table between them. “It’s Colin, isn’t it? You’re still not over him.”