The Mistletoe Promise (17 page)

CHAPTER

Twenty-eight

There is not only more to each soul’s journey than we imagine, usually there is more than we
can
imagine.

Elise Dutton’s Diary

My doorbell rang twice on Christmas Eve. Both times filled me with intense anticipation. The first time was the UPS man delivering a package from New York. It was from Nicholas. I supposed it was my last gift. I didn’t open it. I couldn’t bring myself to read his letter.

The second time the doorbell rang was later that afternoon. I was sure it was Nicholas. I hoped it was as much as I hoped it wasn’t. I took a deep breath before looking through my door’s peephole. Dan was standing outside leaning on one hand against my door. He must have known I was looking through the lens because he suddenly leaned forward and looked through the opposite side of the peephole until his eye filled my field of vision.

I pulled opened the door. “What do you want?”

“Glad you finally decided to come home,” he said.

“What do you want?” I repeated.

“I already told you what I want. I want us again. The way it should be.”

“And I told you I wasn’t interested.”

“Why? Because you think you’re in love?”

“No,” I said. “It’s over.”

“So things didn’t work out with the lawyer in New York.”

I didn’t answer.

“Well, it’s for the better. With a past like his, you didn’t want to get mixed up with that guy anyway.”

“What are you talking about?” I said.

“Will you let me in? It’s freezing out here.”

I stepped back from the door, and he walked in. He sat on my sofa. “So, I got the lowdown on your lawyer. He’s not who you think he is.”

“No one ever is,” I said.

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Dan said. “I am. With me, what you see is what you get.”

“You mean a narcissistic cheater,” I said.

He grinned, looking more impressed by my words than insulted. “Looks like you’ve finally grown some attitude.”

“It’s about time I did.”

“So let me tell you about your
friend
.”

“I don’t care,” I said.

“Good. Because he’s a first-class loser.”

Hearing this made me angry. “No, he’s nothing like you.”

“Then you’re not over him.”

“He’s a good man.”

“Then you won’t mind me telling you that he’s a drunk.”

I shook my head. “He doesn’t even drink.”

“Then maybe he stopped after he killed the family.”

I looked at him. “What are you talking about?”

“Your friend has a serious criminal record. Or at least he
should have one. He was driving drunk when he crashed his car into a family crossing a crosswalk. Two parents and two children. He killed three of them.”

“You’re a liar.”

“I thought you might say that, so I brought proof. I printed it off the Internet.”

He unfolded a piece of paper from his coat pocket and handed it to me. The headline read,

For Three Deaths Teen Gets Two Years

Nicholas Derr, a 16-year-old Highland High School student, was sentenced to juvenile detention for up to two years after admitting Monday that he killed three and injured one in a DUI accident.

There were shouts of protest in 3rd District Juvenile Court when Judge Anders handed down the sentence.

“He kills three people and he’s out in just two years?” said Mark Buhler, a friend of the deceased family. “Where’s the justice? Is that all their lives are worth?”

Derr had a blood-alcohol level at 0.10 percent; the Utah legal limit is 0.08. Derr and a friend (name withheld) were driving down 2100 south from a Parley’s Canyon party where alcohol was being served when his vehicle struck the Hayes family in a crosswalk just north of Sugar House Park at 8:41
P.M.
on December 7.

Vance Hayes (28), Michelle Hayes (27), and their two daughters, Olivia (3) and Victoria (1), were just leaving the park when witnesses say that Derr ran a red light and struck the family. The two young children were in a double stroller. Derr’s car was estimated to be traveling nearly twice the speed limit of the 30 mph zone. The father and one-year-old were killed instantly. The mother was DOA at University of Utah Hospital. Only the three-year-old survived the crash. She sustained multiple broken bones and major internal injuries, but doctors believe she will recover. Derr and his friend were uninjured.

Derr, who had just received his driver’s license two weeks before the accident, pleaded guilty to three counts of second-degree felony automobile homicide and one count of negligent injury. Derr has no previous DUIs or criminal record.

“He’s a good kid,” a neighbor, who asked to remain anonymous, said of Derr. “I’ve known him for years. He comes from a good family. He mows the lawn of one of the widows on our street and shovels her walk in the winter. One time some bullies were picking on my son and Nick protected him. I don’t know what happened with this accident. He just made some bad choices, like any kid could.”

Earlier this month, Judge Anders decided against ordering Derr to stand trial in adult court, where the teen would have faced up to 30 years at
Utah State Prison. Derr will be eligible for parole in as few as twenty-four months.

I looked at the picture of an upside-down car and an area cordoned off with police tape. Then I looked up at Dan. His dark eyes brimmed with satisfaction. “Looks like the two of you have more in common than you thought.”

“Get out of here,” I said.

“Don’t kill the messenger, honey.”

“Get out of here!” I screamed.

He looked at me for a moment, then stood. “I should’ve figured. Two killers, no jail time. You’re perfect for each other.”

I slapped him so hard my hand stung. “Don’t you ever call me that again!” I shouted. “Do you hear me? Never call me that again!”

Dan was stunned. The imprint of my hand was fresh on his cheek. “I’ve paid a thousand times over for my mistake. A thousand times a thousand. I have suffered and bled for something that I would give my life to have prevented. I would have gladly traded my life for hers, but I can’t. But you will not hold this over my head anymore. I have paid the debt. Do you understand me?”

He didn’t answer.

“Do you understand me?”

“Yes ‘Lise.”

“Now get out of here.”

He slowly turned his back on me. He had just walked out the door when I shouted after him, “And you’re right.
Nicholas and I
are
perfect for each other.” I slammed the door shut after him.

For the first time since the day Hannah died, I felt free. And I fully understood why Nicholas had been so good to me. He understood. He had weathered the same fierce storm.

I grabbed the package he’d sent and tore back the paper to reveal a satin box marked
WATERFORD CRYSTAL.
I untied its ribbon and lifted the lid. Inside the red-velvet-lined box was a crystal Christmas ornament. A star. Next to the star was a scrolled parchment note tied with ribbon. I untied the ribbon and unrolled the note. It was written in Nicholas’s hand.

My dear Elise,

It’s been said that the Magi, wise men, gazed up into the night skies, following a star. But they were not looking for a star. They were looking for hope. Hope of a new world. Hope of redemption. Light is not found in dark places, and hope is not found looking down or looking back. May you always look up. It has been my greatest joy spending this holiday season with you. And though things did not end between us as I hoped, whatever the new year brings, I will always hope the best for you and be forever grateful for your love. I will always love you.

Nick

CHAPTER

Twenty-nine

Our contract has expired.

Elise Dutton’s Diary

When I arrived at Nicholas’s home I knocked on his door, then rang his doorbell, but he didn’t answer. There was one set of car tracks in the driveway, and I guessed he had gone somewhere. I sat down on the cold concrete porch to wait. The temperature dropped with the sun until it was well below freezing. Or at least until I was. I shivered with the cold, but I wasn’t going to leave. I couldn’t make myself leave.

It was after dark when Nicholas’s car turned in to his driveway. His garage door opened, but he saw me and stopped before pulling in. He got out and walked up to me.

“What are you doing here?”

My chin was quivering with the cold, making it difficult to speak. “We had a date. Remember?”

He looked down a moment, then said, “That was before you said I was cruel and ran away.”

My words pierced me. “I came to apologize.”

For a moment he seemed unsure of what to say. “How long have you been waiting here?”

“Three hours.”

“You must be freezing.”

I nodded, my body involuntarily shuddering with the suggestion.

He put out his hand. “Come in and get warm.”

He unlocked the front door, and we stepped into the foyer. His home was warm and dark, illuminated only by a hall light and the colorful blinking strands of his Christmas tree. He led me to a small den, told me to sit on the sofa, and then left the room. I could hear him moving around in the kitchen. It seemed that I sat there for the longest time before he returned without his coat and carrying a porcelain mug. “Drink this. It’s hot cider.”

“Thank you,” I said, taking the cup from him with both hands. I sipped the hot drink while he sat down backward on the piano bench. The warm drink spread through my body. When I could speak I asked, “Do you play?”

He nodded. “Yes.”

I didn’t know what to say and I’m not sure he did either because the silence was interminable. He looked at me until I couldn’t stand it anymore. Finally I took a deep breath and said, “Dan came by to see me this afternoon. He’s still trying to get me back. He thought he could scare me away from you with this.” I set the newspaper article on the table between us.

Nicholas barely glanced at it. “And he didn’t even need it. I scared you away without it.” He took a deep breath. “And you think I owe you an explanation?”

“You don’t owe me anything,” I said.

“Then why are you here?”

The question stung, filling my eyes with tears. I bowed my head, afraid to show my eyes, afraid to look into his. “After reading the article I realized that you really did understand me. And that you might be the only one in the world who could really love me.”

He was silent for a moment, then said, “I’d like to explain what happened.”

I looked up at him. “You don’t have to.”

“I want to,” he said. “I was barely sixteen years old. I was a sophomore in high school. My girlfriend had broken up with me a couple days before. You know how teenagers are, all drama and hormones. I was depressed and had pretty much taken to my bed, just listening to music all night. A friend of mine came over to cheer me up. He talked me into going to a party some seniors were having up in the canyons.

“They had a keg. Everyone was drunk or getting there. I resisted, at first. My parents were Mormon, so we didn’t have alcohol in our house. I had never even drunk alcohol before. But between the peer pressure and my depression and my friend nagging, I gave in. It was the worst mistake of my life. It didn’t take much to get me drunk. I had maybe three beers. My friend was completely wasted, so I took his keys and drove us home.”

I could see the pain grow in his eyes.

“We were coming down Parley’s Canyon onto twenty-first south. I was driving fast, close to sixty miles per hour, when I reached Sugar House Park. Wrong place, wrong time. There was a young family leaving the park. They were
in the crosswalk. A mom, dad, a three- and a one-year-old in a double stroller. It was dark, and I was driving so fast I don’t know if I would have seen them anyway, but I hit them. The father saw me just before; he tried to push the stroller out of the way. He was killed instantly. I hit him and his wife and clipped the stroller, then rolled the car into a telephone pole.

“The mother was thrown more than eighty feet, but somehow she was still alive when the ambulance arrived. I climbed out of the car and walked around the scene like I was in a nightmare, listening to the mother scream for her children. When I have nightmares, that’s what I hear, that mother’s screams.” He looked into my eyes. “The three-year-old lived. Her name is Olivia. She’s seventeen now.”

I let the story settle over me. When I could speak I asked, “Have you met her?”

“A year ago,” he said softly. “I’ve taken flowers to the grave every year on the anniversary of their deaths.”

“December seventh,” I said. “That’s where you were.”

He nodded. “Last year I was in the cemetery, just kneeling there, praying for forgiveness, like I always do. When I stood, there was a teenage girl behind me. I hadn’t heard her come up. She just looked at me for a moment and then she said, ‘It’s you, isn’t it?’

“I said, ‘I’m so sorry.’ She looked at me for a moment and then she did something I’ll never forget. She said, ‘I forgive you.’ ” Nicholas’s eyes welled up. “The power of those words. I fell back to my knees and wept. Olivia was almost the same age I was when I took her parents and sister from
her. I don’t know how she did it. But she knelt down next to me and held me. She said, ‘You were just a kid, like me. Sometimes we do dumb things. Sometimes there are consequences.’ ” Nicholas shook his head. “I don’t know how she found the strength to say that to the man who had killed her parents.”

“What happened after the accident?” I asked.

“I was arrested. I was put in youth corrections for nineteen months—until my eighteenth birthday. It would have been longer—much longer—but because I was underage and it was my first offense, the judge ruled that I would be tried as an adolescent. A lot of people wanted me tried as an adult. Some of those people were waiting outside the juvie center with placards when I got out. They stood there and jeered at me. One called me a murderer. One had a drawing of a headstone with the word
justice
. I’ll never forget a woman shaking a finger at me and saying, ‘Rot in hell.’ ”

“I understand,” I said.

He slowly nodded. “I know you do. You also understand that even though the law was done with me, my punishment had just begun. I carried the weight of what I’d done every day of my life. My relationship with my parents changed. My trial and fines had just about bankrupted them.

“My mother was severely depressed. She was very religious and she blamed herself for what had happened. She felt like God was punishing her for being a bad mother. She became addicted to prescription medications. My dad tried to keep things together, but eventually it was too much
for him too. My parents divorced. My brother and sister blamed me for destroying the family. I can’t blame them; it’s true. But since then I’ve been alone. None of them will talk to me. I’m dead to them. My mother died of an overdose six years ago.

“It’s been a long road. It seemed like anytime I started to feel happiness, the memory of the Hayeses’ deaths or my mother’s death would rise up to smack me back down. Something would say to me, ‘How can you be happy when they’re in the ground?’ I’ve wondered if God could ever forgive me.

“I don’t know why I decided to go into law, maybe it was all the time I’d spent in court and working with lawyers, but I had an aptitude for it. I got the second highest LSAT score in the state of Utah. I focused all my energy on my career. I worked hard, not just to succeed, but because there was nothing else in my life. Deep inside what I was really trying to do was prove that I wasn’t worthless.

“But no amount of success in my career could fill that hole inside me. It was always there. I never felt free to find joy until I met Olivia. That’s when I decided I would find someone to spend my life with. I dated some, I didn’t have any trouble getting women, but I suppose I felt like you did. I didn’t think they could comprehend or love the real me.

“When I saw you in that elevator I was speechless. I knew you didn’t recognize me, but I recognized you. I felt like, in some way, we were kindred spirits. After that I couldn’t get you off my mind. I wanted to know you better.”

“That’s why you came up with the contract,” I said.

He nodded. “It seemed like a safe way to get close without hurting anyone. But then I fell in love.” He looked into my eyes. “It wasn’t hard. You’re very loveable.”

I looked at him gratefully but didn’t speak.

“I wanted to protect you,” he said. “From the world and from your past. But I’m part of that past, so that meant protecting you from me as well. I know I should have told you, but the timing never seemed right. And the stronger my feelings grew, the more afraid I was of losing you. And I had my own secret I didn’t know how to share. In a way, I was fighting the same demon you were—deep inside I wondered whether you would reject me too if you knew the real me.”

“I’m sorry I left you,” I said. “You’ve had enough abandonment from those you loved.” My voice fell with shame. “You didn’t need it from me.” I looked down for a moment as the emotion of the moment filled me. Then I looked back up into his eyes. “Could you still love me?”

It seemed an eternity that we gazed into each other’s eyes, and then Nicholas came over to me and we embraced. Then we kissed. Passionately. Honestly. Completely. For the first time we kissed without masks. When our lips finally parted, I whispered, “I want to renew the contract.”

He didn’t speak for a moment. Then he said, “It’s got to be a different contract.”

“Different?”

He leaned back to look into my eyes. “We need to change the expiration date.”

“To what?” I asked.

“In perpetuity.”

I laughed. “You sound like such a lawyer.”

“I am,” he replied. “And no more platonic clause. It’s definitely not going to be platonic.”

A wide smile crossed my lips. “No,” I said. “It’s definitely not going to be platonic.” I looked deep into his eyes. “In perpetuity?”

He nodded. “This time you really are signing your soul away.”

I looked at him for a moment before I said, “All right, Mr. Lawyer. Got a pen?”