Our First Christmas (39 page)

His self-deprecating smile was absolutely the sexiest thing she'd ever seen.

“So what about Adam?” he said.

“He's my brother-in-law. And yeah, I did have this whole fantasy thing going with him. An older guy, I guess.”

“Is it over?”

Was it? She didn't really know, but she wasn't about to spoil this moment, so she lied, right then and there, staring into his worried eyes, touching his cheek with the tips of her fingers. “Of course it is, silly. Otherwise would I be here on this couch with you wondering how I could get you to kiss me again?”

“That's the easy part,” he said, and kissed her just as she heard her father's heavy tread on the stairs. He lifted his head and swung to his feet. “I'll call you,” he promised, and left as suddenly as he'd shown up on her doorstep.

From the window she watched him drive away, her gaze following the taillights of his car as it disappeared through a curtain of snow, the cat winding herself between Megan's ankles while Megan wondered if she could really ever give up dreaming of her sister's husband. God, she was a fool. And Chris? She sighed inwardly and wished she could kiss him one more time. Maybe then she wouldn't be lying when she said she wasn't in love with Adam.

As it turned out she wasn't the only liar.

Chris didn't call.

Megan told herself she wasn't waiting for him though she jumped every time the phone rang. And things just got worse. She and Leslie braved the mall on the Monday after Christmas because Leslie wanted something new for her upcoming date with Ken. “I've got to get something cooler, you know, sexier,” Leslie confided as they walked into the third boutique. “I know it sounds dumb, but Ken and I aren't going on this sledding thing alone. Guess who's coming along?”

Oh. God. Chris. And another girl. Megan's heart did a nosedive, and she realized how much the thought of Chris with someone else hurt.

“Claire and Brad,” Leslie said, and Megan didn't know whether to be happy or disgusted. As Leslie picked up a sweater and set it back, she said, “I know, it's kind of weird. Brad's car is in the shop or something and he can't get his dad's, so anyway Ken's driving up to Mohawk Mountain for New Year's Eve.”

Megan continued to browse through the sale racks, pushing the hangers a little too quickly as Leslie rattled on about the proposed trip. Somehow, she felt betrayed that Leslie was going to be on a double date with Claire Wakefield. It wasn't Leslie's fault—or Ken's for that matter—but still it was painful.

“Meg, have you been listening to what I've said?”

“Oh, yes, I'm just a little surprised, that's all.”

“I thought that maybe you knew all about it,” Leslie apologized. “Didn't Chris tell you?”

“I haven't seen Chris for a while,” Megan admitted, and was surprised at how sad that made her. When had she become dependent on a boy to make her happy?

“Why not?”

“Well, thanks to you, Chris figured out that I thought I was in love with Adam.”

“Ouch,” Leslie said, then said, “ ‘Thought' you were. As in no more? Come on!”

“I just don't know.” That was the truth of it.

“Why didn't you just lie?”

“I didn't want to start out lying, you know. Seemed like a bad idea.”

“A bad idea was admitting that you had a thing for Adam.”

“Maybe.”

“You need to fix that.”

“I think it's okay.”

“You'd better make sure. Or someone should.” Leslie sent her a disbelieving glare, and Megan caught her drift. She skirted the sale rack and saw a sales person eyeing her, as if she expected her to shoplift. Pulling Leslie out of the store, Megan said, “Don't get any ideas. I'll handle this.”

“Okay, okay,” Leslie said, palms up, and they started shopping in earnest. By the time Megan got home, she was tired. The house was empty, her parents having gone out, no messages on the phone. “What did you expect?” she muttered, noticing that some of the Christmas decorations had begun to lose their luster; unlit red candles sat on the table with half-burned bits of blackened wick visible. Even the bright red holly berries on the mantel had started to wither and darken as if in anticipation of the season's end.

And how about you, Megan Simmons?
she asked herself as she waited for Madonna to shoot into her room before shutting the door.
What will you do when vacation's over and the sparkle of Christmas is gone? Will Chris ever call you again, or was your relationship with him just a holiday fantasy?

She flopped onto the bed and remembered when all of her unhappiness had begun, two years earlier when Adam had come into her life. No. That wasn't quite right, she reminded herself. He had come into Natalie's life.

Tired, Megan let her heavy lids drop over her eyes as she conjured up Adam's handsome face: olive skin with a nobility and a slight arrogance; his dark green eyes were nearly liquid. How could he unwittingly have caused her so many heartaches? Then Adam's image shifted, and she found herself looking into the blue eyes of Chris Johnson. He seemed amused, a dimple twitching in his cheek.

In her fantasy, they were beneath some sort of arbor, which was covered with mistletoe. Hundreds of people were watching them, and from the corner of her eye, she could see Natalie dancing with Adam. Natalie was wearing her wedding gown while Megan saw herself in faded jeans and an old sweatshirt with
C
ENTRAL
H
IGH
D
EBATING
T
EAM
on its front. Embarrassed and feeling out of place, she wanted to run and hide, or at least change into something more appropriate. She couldn't! Chris refused to let her go, his bright eyes twinkling with mischief.

From far away, she heard a ringing, and her eyes flew open. She ran to her parents' room and picked up the phone.

“Hey!” Chris said, and her knees actually buckled. She sat on the edge of her parents' bed. “How would you like to go sledding tomorrow?”

“I'd love it!” she said, and, at least for the moment, the spirit of Christmas began to glimmer again, if only in her heart.

New Year's Eve dawned sunny but cold. Megan could see the icicles hanging from the eaves over her window. Although they reflected the sun's brilliant rays, they did not melt, but instead hung tenaciously to the sill. It would be an ideal day to go sledding on Mohawk Mountain.

As usual, Megan was ready long before Chris was due to arrive. Such was her nature. The myth that women were forever late bothered her, as she had just the opposite problem. If anything, she was always ready for a date far too early, much to Leslie's discomfort. Leslie was always late. “You're just too organized,” she would shout at Megan, while rushing around and trying to get ready.

Now, Megan pulled on her new jeans and sweater and grabbed her ski jacket and some ski pants in case she needed them, both of which she crammed into a backpack. She also tucked in a swimming suit and towel, as Leslie had mentioned there was a pool at the resort. Slinging the pack over her shoulder, she was halfway down the stairs when the front door burst open.

“Surprise!” two familiar voices called out.

She hurried down the rest of the steps to find Natalie and Adam stomping the snow from their boots.

“We decided to stop by on our way home,” Natalie explained, her arm entwined through Adam's. “It's great to see you!”

“But it's early.”

“I know. We came home a day early, to get settled in,” Natalie responded. “I've got to go to work the day after tomorrow. We took our chances and flew back here on standby tickets.”

“I wish I'd known. I'm on my way out. Sledding,” Megan said just as her mother, smelling of her last cigarette, hurried up and threw her arms around the newlyweds.

“Oh, my God! Natalie!” Carol was positively gushing as she threw her arms around her daughter and called over her shoulder, “Jim! It's Natalie and Adam!”

As her father came into the foyer, Megan caught a glimpse of Chris's car pulling into the snow-covered drive. She bit her lip and looked at Natalie. “Sorry. I've got to go.”

“With Chris?” Natalie asked, obviously having seen them together at the wedding and guessing the rest. A dark eyebrow arched inquisitively before her father's arms swallowed her in a bear hug.

“Yeah.”

“Interesting,” Natalie said.

“Will you still be here tonight?” Megan asked her sister just as Adam gave her a big, brotherly hug that nearly squeezed the life from her. Another time she might have nearly swooned; now, spying Chris walking up the shoveled path, she couldn't escape fast enough. She opened the door.

“Sure, Meg, we'll be here,” Adam answered, and bussed her lightly on the cheek. Spying Chris, he stuck out his hand, then dragged his cousin close. “Been busy, I see.”

“A little.”

“Good to see you!” Adam said, but Chris, his jaw rock hard, his eyes darker than usual, just nodded and grabbed Megan's arm.

“Ready?” he asked her.

She picked up her bag. “Yeah.”

Adam called, “See you around, Chris!” as they headed outside.

“Later,” Chris replied curtly, but never cast so much as a glance in Megan's direction as he opened the car door for her, then slammed it once she was inside.

They began the drive to the mountain in silence. She pretended interest in the snowfall, and he fiddled with the radio until, once they were out of town, he snapped it off and said, “So, Meg, are you in love with Adam?”

“No,” she said, and for the first time in a long while, she knew she was telling the truth. Not that Chris really believed her. It didn't matter; the sky cleared as they reached the mountain and connected with the other kids from LaSalle. Leslie was stuck like glue to Ken and, of course, Claire Wakefield was with Brad, who, at least to begin with, seemed sober. They sledded on inner tubes and toboggans, and Megan felt the bracing cold of the mountain air, the bite of snow as she fell off, and the warmth of Chris, his body always close to hers. They laughed and threw snowballs and made snow angels and got to know each other. When they spied a sprig of mistletoe left over from Christmas, they kissed, then laughed, a special joke between them.

After a few more runs down the hill followed by a quick lunch, a group decided to hit the pool. Though outdoors, it was heated and sounded like heaven. “I'll meet you down there,” Megan whispered to Chris as they began to head out the door to the pool. “I left my purse back at the table.”

“I'll come with you.”

“You don't need to. I need to change anyway.”

Chris seemed dubious, but Megan hurried back to the table, found her purse, and tucked it into her backpack before heading to the locker room, located down a short flight of stairs. Several girls from Upland-Gable were in the locker room, changing into swimwear. Ignoring them, Megan changed out of her sledding gear into her swimsuit, pulled out her lipstick, and found a mirror located behind a stack of blue lockers. The other girls were talking and laughing among themselves, but Megan didn't think that they had seen her.

She had just snapped her purse shut and was about to head back up the stairs when a loud voice attracted her attention. She would have recognized it anywhere as belonging to Claire Wakefield.

Megan froze. She didn't want to hear the conversation, but since Claire was on the other side of the bank of lockers, she had nowhere to go.

“Who's that girl that Chris is with?” an unfamiliar voice asked.

“Chris Johnson?” Claire asked innocently. “I think her name is Megan something-or-other.” The contemptuous tone of Claire's voice indicated her opinion of Megan, which just about matched her own of Claire Wakefield. What a snob!

“I've never seen her before,” was the other girl's comment.

“She's from
Central.
”

“Oh.” One word said it all.

“Isn't she the girl who was with him at the LaSalle sleigh ride?” another voice asked.

“I guess so,” Claire commented dryly. “I really didn't notice.”

“Come off it, Claire. You couldn't take your eyes off of Chris all night.” Megan recognized the voice as belonging to Jeanette Mc-Davis.

“I was with Brad, Jeanette, so I barely noticed Chris,” Claire countered angrily.

Megan held her tongue.

“Yeah, but . . .” Jeanette's voice filled the locker room. “I know you were with Brad on the sleigh ride, Claire. I was there, remember? And, okay, so you're with Brad again today. But what's that all about? I thought you broke up with him.”

“We got back together,” Claire said.

Jeaneatte obviously wasn't buying it. “Because Chris wasn't interested.”

“Give me a break.” Claire sounded bored.

“Fine.” Jeaneatte seemed tired of the argument. “Come on, let's go to the pool. The guys are probably already there.”

“They can wait for a few minutes. I'm not ready.”

“We'll meet you up at the pool then,” Jeanette called.

Megan heard the sound of retreating footsteps. She and Claire were in the locker room, alone. She felt her mouth become dry and the sweat begin to bead on her forehead, then she told herself to get over it. She couldn't let one girl intimidate her. So Claire had been interested in Chris—so what?

Claire came around the corner of the stacked lockers and met Megan's gaze in the mirror. Her poise faltered for just a moment, but she recovered quickly. Adjusting the straps of the bikini visible through her cover-up, she stared pointedly at Megan.

“Well . . . this is embarrassing.” Claire found a tube of lip gloss and touched up the shine on her lips.

“Yeah. Awkward.”

“No doubt you overhead the conversation I had with my friends.”

Megan nodded, wishing she could think of something clever to say. God, she'd be terrible on the debate team if she ever made it through tryouts. One look from this girl and she found her throat frozen. Claire tossed her blond locks behind her ears and pouted into the mirror as she surveyed herself. “How are you getting along with Chris?” she asked casually as she slipped the lip gloss into her purse.

“Fine,” Megan answered noncommittally.

“He's a nice guy.”

“Uh-huh.”

“For the life of me, I can't
imagine
how the two of you ever got together.”

“He's . . . a cousin of my brother-in-law.” Why was she explaining herself to Claire?

“Oh, I see. You're related.”

“No . . . he's related to my sister's husband.”

“Cozy.” Claire's eyes moved back to her own image. She smiled as she brushed her long, thick blond hair.

Though Megan wanted to say something more cutting to Claire, she only managed a quick, “It's just the right amount of cozy,” then walked to the stairs to get out of Claire's dagger-like stare.

Megan followed signs to the pool area and found Chris and some other kids already in the aquamarine water. Steam rose from the pool, and the cold air was bracing.

“What took you so long?” he asked, taking her arm in his and pulling her closer to him after she got into the pool.

“I . . . I ran into a girl I know, down in the locker room,” Megan replied, all too aware of his nearly naked body touching hers. Wet skin to wet skin. No way was she going to mention her conversation with Claire. Not today.

Chris smiled warmly and kissed her cheek. With a wink, he said, “Well, I'm glad you finally made it up here.”

“Me too.”

Claire had dived perfectly into the water, and come up near Brad. Leslie and Ken were making out in one corner, and the other kids were swimming and splashing. Several of the boys were loud, their voices echoing over the water, and Brad, again, was the ring leader.

Megan remembered the last time that she had seen them act this way—on the night of the sleigh ride. She wondered if Brad and his friends had been drinking again. As the hours rolled past, Brad became more and more boisterous, pushing other kids into the pool, even a poor girl who was dressed in her ski clothes.

“It looks like Brad didn't learn his lesson,” Chris said. “If Father Anthony catches him, he'll be thrown off the team and out of school.” He shook his head. “And we'll all be in for it.” Sighing, he added, “Maybe we'd better get going.”

Other kids were already climbing out of the pool. Even Claire, dunked one too many times by Brad, had left him.

Megan glanced up at the sky, clouds now covering the moon, a few snowflakes beginning to fall from the dark heavens. She hated the thought of leaving, of ending the fun, but Chris was right, so they agreed to change in the locker rooms and meet in the parking lot at the car.

By the time Megan found Chris, he'd already started his car, the engine idling, the heater blasting. Snow was falling steadily again, and there was talk of the roads icing over. It was time to go. As Megan slid into the passenger seat she spied Brad, dressed in ski gear again, but walking cautiously as if staying upright was difficult. He nearly fell into the backseat of Ken's car and found the whole incident uproarious.

Chris's jaw clamped tight. “Ass,” he said, then turned his attention to watch Claire, her hair pulled away from her face, her usually perfect makeup gone, cast a wistful glance toward Chris's car before sliding in with her date. What was going on here? Megan wondered.

As the other car pulled out of the lot, Megan got a glimpse of Brad kissing Claire; her eyes were open, staring over his shoulder, as if she really wasn't into making out, at least not with him.

Megan figured she knew why, and it had more to do with Chris than the boy Claire was with. As Chris drove down the winding mountain road, Megan said, “So I overheard Claire and some of her friends talking. They think she's got a thing for you.”

“A thing?” he repeated, but he didn't smile.

“Whatever you want to call it.”

“I don't want to call it anything.”

“Something's going on. I saw how she looked at you, and, sometimes, it seemed like you were looking back.”

“Jealous?” He slid her a glance.

“Should I be?”

“No.” But then, to her surprise, he pulled off the road, stopping at a lower parking lot reserved for cross-country skiers. Chris's hands tightened around the steering wheel.

“What's wrong?” she asked.

“I haven't been completely honest with you,” he admitted as the wipers slapped snowflakes off the windshield.

“About what?” Oh, God, was he going to tell her he was in love with some other girl, that they shouldn't date, that being together was all a mistake?

“Me. And . . . and the fact that I used to date Claire.”

A part of Megan wasn't surprised. A part of her was. Another part was disappointed. As the windows started to fog over from their mingled breaths, she wished she could run away. If Chris still loved Claire, Megan didn't want to hear it.

“It's over,” he assured her, but she wasn't convinced. “I met her late last summer when we moved here from Boston. She lives a few houses away from me and, well, she invited me over to her house for a swim one day.”

“A swim?” Ironic, Megan thought as she remembered Claire in her little bikini casting flirty looks at Chris in the outdoor pool.

Chris shrugged. “It wasn't any big deal, at least not to me. She had another boyfriend. . . .”

“Brad?”

Chris nodded. “He was away for the summer, and so Claire and I were together a lot. Until school started, I didn't know many of the kids at LaSalle, and then Claire and a couple of her friends at Upland-Gable. So we hung out.” It explained a lot. “Anyway, Brad came back, and for a while we both dated her. I wasn't really all that interested in her, but she had been nice to me when I didn't know a soul.”