Authors: Debbie Macomber
Addie selected him from her contact list and hoped he had his phone close at hand.
“Hello,” he grumbled.
“Hi. You okay?” she asked.
“Is there a reason I shouldn’t be?”
She could see his mood hadn’t improved. “Are you in bed?”
He hesitated. “No, but I can be if that’s what you’d like.”
“Very funny.”
“Hey, I was serious.”
“I’m not playing around,” she said. “In case you hadn’t noticed, the power’s out.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Then you’re okay?”
Her question was followed by a short pause. “Do you want to come over and hang out?”
“Is that what you’d like?”
He didn’t hesitate. “Yes. Do you have your pajamas on?”
“No,” she drawled, “but I can put them on if you want me to.”
He chuckled. “Come on over.”
By all that was right she should ignore him and go back to bed, just the way she’d planned. However, she found his invitation too irresistible to refuse.
“Okay, I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
The street was coal dark. Thick clouds obliterated any chance of moonlight reflecting off the remaining snow. Without the flashlight, Addie didn’t know if she could have walked the short distance between the two homes without incident.
As was her custom, she knocked once and let herself into the house. “Erich?” she called from the entryway.
“In here.”
She flashed the light into the living room to find him sitting in the recliner.
“Any idea what happened to cause the power to go out?” he asked.
“It isn’t the weather, as far as I can see.” The wind or snowfall was often a cause of electrical failures, but the storm had come and gone before they lost power.
“No doubt demand is bigger than supply,” he complained. “All these lights. It’s ridiculous. Half the street is lit up with decorations. It’s a waste of energy.”
“Oh, honestly. What is it with you? You weren’t like this when we were kids. I’m totally confused by your attitude.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“What changed, Erich?”
“I grew up. Now sit and hang awhile, okay?”
“First you have to promise no more complaining.”
“If it means you’ll stay.”
“Deal.” She hesitated. “Would you like me to build a fire in the fireplace?” That would create a romantic atmosphere and perhaps put Erich in a better mood.
“No thanks.”
So much for that. She sat in the chair next to his and gradually relaxed. Addie had missed spending time with him. Refusing to allow him to dominate her time and, more important, her head, had taken some doing. She’d needed time away to put order to her thoughts. This thing with him and Christmas was rooted in something deeper than he was saying. Whatever had happened, he clearly had no intention of sharing with her, and she found that upsetting. They’d come a long way in the last ten days.
They sat in the dark in companionable silence for several minutes. Not being able to see him offered a unique sense of freedom. In a strange way it lowered Addie’s walls and allowed her to feel she could be more open, honest, and direct with him.
After a while, Erich said, “I’ve missed seeing you the last couple days.”
So the darkness freed him to share his own feelings with her, too.
“I’ve been here,” she said.
“True, but you were in and out as if you had places to go and people to see. You didn’t seem to have much time for me.”
It did her heart good to see that Erich had noticed her absence. “Guilty as charged.”
“Is it about Christmas?”
“I was tired of hearing you whine. But, yes, the truth is, I also had things to do.”
“Like?”
“I went shopping.”
“At the mall?” he asked incredulously. “Are you crazy? This time of year it’s a madhouse—”
“Grocery shopping,” she said, cutting him off, “for the class potluck.”
“Ah yes, I forgot about that. Thanks for not bugging me about it.”
“I believe you made your decision perfectly clear.” It rankled that he’d refused her invitation and hurt her feelings. “As it happened, I asked someone else.”
Right away, she could tell he was suspicious. “Who?”
“You don’t want to go with me, so it’s none of your business.”
“Male or female?”
“Does it matter?”
“Yes,” he countered sharply. “It matters to me.”
“Why?” she asked.
Silence. “Why?” he repeated. “Because I’ve got a thing for you.”
“A thing? Translate, please.”
Again he hesitated. “I like you … a lot. No one is more surprised over this than I am. For a long time I had trouble believing it, but then you kissed me—”
“Hold on a minute,” she said, stopping him. “I kissed you? I sort of thought you were the one who kissed me.”
“Getting back to my point.”
“Yes,” she said, displaying the utmost patience.
“I will if you stop interrupting me.”
Addie grinned.
“The point is, I’m falling for you, Addie. I didn’t much like it at first.”
“Well, thank you ever so much.” The man needed a bit of tutoring when it came to giving compliments.
“That didn’t come out right. I mean, think about it: We have history, and most of it is negative. And then I had to rely on you for practically everything, which didn’t do much for my ego. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but frankly, it’s been great. Better than great, and it all started about the time we first kissed.”
Addie had to agree, it hadn’t been easy in the beginning. They’d been tentative with each other, hesitant and unsure. That hadn’t lasted long, though, and she was grateful. The only thing that stood between them now was whatever had led to his attitude toward Christmas.
“Do you remember the last time we were in the dark?” Addie asked. She remembered that night all too well. “That was when you told me about Ashley.”
The room went silent for the longest time.
“Ah yes, Ashley.”
Addie strained harder, fearing she heard longing in his voice as he said the other woman’s name. It came to her then what should have been obvious all along—something she’d chosen to ignore. “You’re still in love with her, aren’t you?”
It took him a minute to admit the truth. “I was at one time, not anymore.”
“I don’t believe you. You still love her.” Addie’s stomach felt as though someone had given her a swift, hard kick.
“No,” he insisted. “I was honest with you before; for
a time I was crazy about her, and if you must know, I was devastated when she broke up with me. I’d never experienced pain like that.” He laughed softly. “Girls had broken up with me more than once, so it was hard to understand why it hit me so much harder this time around. Then I realized it was the way she did it. She waited until she knew I was in really deep and it would cut me to the core.”
The thought of Erich loving another woman completely unsettled Addie. She had no right to feel that way—she had no claim on him. But that didn’t change how it affected her to hear it. Addie took a moment to absorb this mixed bag of emotions that assailed her.
“No comment?” he asked, after several taut seconds in which neither spoke.
“What would you like me to say?”
He chuckled, his amusement drifting into the darkness like smoke dissipating in the wind. “I’d hoped you’d be insanely jealous.”
“That can be arranged.”
He laughed again. “Were you this witty when we were kids?”
It hit her then, and she sat up straight as a stick pin. “Hold on a minute,” Addie murmured, and placed her hands on top of her head. Everything was starting to add up.
“What?” he asked, sounding concerned.
“Erich, when did Ashley break up with you?”
“Why do you want to know?”
“Just answer the question.” She wasn’t about to let him get away without answering.
He hesitated and then answered on the tail end of a sigh. “On Christmas Day. We were with family and I got down on one knee to propose and … well, you can imagine the rest.”
“I knew it. I knew it.”
“What did you know?”
“It isn’t just
this
Christmas that’s got you down. You’re still dying for the beautiful Ashley … the love of your life. That’s the reason you’re so negative about the holidays. That’s the reason you didn’t want me to put up the Christmas tree, or cook a special dinner. You’re living in the past, holding on to the memory of a broken heart, hanging on to the pain.”
Addie leaped out of the chair. All at once it was much too difficult to sit in one place. For reasons she had yet to digest, she was red-hot angry. “How long do you intend to stay hidden while your heart heals?”
“Ashley and I are finished. When I saw her the other day it was hard for me to believe I could ever have loved her.”
“Right, and that was great for your pride, too, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, but it was necessary. What I don’t understand is why you’re so mad.”
“You,” she cried. “You make me furious. You know what? I don’t think I can do this any longer.”
“Do what?”
She didn’t want to be rash and say something she would later regret. “I think it might be best if I left now. You don’t need me.”
“You’re wrong, Addie. I need you more than ever. I don’t understand why you’re offended. What did I say? All I know is that I don’t want you to leave until we settle this. I did love Ashley, I’ll admit it, but it’s over. I swear to you it’s over.”
Addie sucked in a deep breath and exhaled it, torn with what she should do. Before she could decide, the lights on the Christmas tree went on, and flashes of red, blue, and green filled the room, warming it with color.
“The electricity is back,” she whispered.
“No, it’s not. The lamp and the television are still off. The only lights are the ones on the tree, which I didn’t have on to begin with. What’s going on?”
Addie glanced out the window, and he was right. The streetlights were still off, and so were the other lights in the neighborhood. Not a one shone in the darkness. The only lights that she could see were those on the Christmas tree.
“That’s really strange,” she whispered.
“It’s more than strange. This isn’t possible,” he said.
“Maybe it’s a sign,” Addie suggested.
“Who from?”
“One of the three spirits from the Dickens novel,” Addie said, teasing. “I warned you this negative attitude of yours was going to get you in trouble. Well, here you are.”
Whatever it was, she would leave him to it. “All I can say is, you’re on your own.”
He followed her to the front door. “Addie,” he whispered, touching her shoulder.
She turned around.
His gaze held her captive. “I don’t want you to be angry with me.”
“I’m not angry. It just bothers me that you’re choosing to hang on to your pain, because it means you’re not over Ashley as much as you think.”
“Don’t be so sure,” he murmured, as he reached for her and brought her close. “Kiss me and show me you aren’t upset.”
“I shouldn’t.”
“Yes, you should,” he insisted, and lowered his mouth to capture hers.
The kiss left her weak in the knees, a kiss that she felt all the way to the soles of her feet. It was as if he had to prove to her in a single kiss that he was completely over the other woman.
“Addie?” he whispered, dragging his mouth reluctantly from hers.
“Hmmm?” she asked, unwilling to open her eyes.
“Will I see you in the morning?”
She nodded. Despite everything she already knew, it would be much too hard for her to stay away.
With Christmas music playing in the background, Addie slid the last sheet of cookies inside the oven and turned on the timer. She set the oven mitt aside when her phone rang.
As soon as she saw it was Erich, a sense of happiness filled her. She’d taken him breakfast an hour ago, lingering a few minutes while he ate. It’d been a good visit. He’d talked to her a bit more about his relationship with Ashley, opening up to her.
Their talk the night before seemed to have given him a lot to think about.
“I did love Ashley,” he’d admitted. “But there’s something more I didn’t tell you because my pride wouldn’t let
me. Ashley didn’t love me at all. She didn’t know what it meant to love one person. She’s the kind of woman who will always seek attention from other men, without ever caring for them. The word
faithful
isn’t part of her vocabulary.”
She hadn’t wanted to test his newfound openness, so she’d left before wearing out her welcome.
“Hi,” she now greeted him, as she answered the phone.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Baking cookies,” she reminded him. She’d told him her plans for that morning before she left.
This recipe was one her mother had always baked for the holidays. Peanut butter was one of the main ingredients, and then just before the cookies were completely cooked, she added a chocolate kiss to the top and set them back inside the oven. The chocolate didn’t melt completely, but just got gooey and creamy. They’d been her favorite as a kid, and it didn’t seem like Christmas without them.
“Don’t tell me you miss me already.”
“I’ve had lots of family and friends stop by ever since my accident, but the only person I ever really want to see is you.”