The Twelve Dates of Christmas Read online

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  THAT NIGHT RICKY couldn’t settle. He had a bottle of Scotch, a glass and some ice, but he didn’t feel like drinking. He didn’t want to pace. He couldn’t sit and mope. He had too much energy.

  Energy.

  He shook his head, lifted the Scotch and poured himself two fingers.

  But though he brought the glass to his lips, he didn’t drink it.

  Everything felt off, wrong.

  He walked to the back wall of the main room of his condo and stared at the decorated windows in the middle-class building across the street. He thought about his parents’ huge log house, how good it looked decorated for the holidays. He closed his eyes, remembering the feeling he’d had that afternoon at the Christmas party. Eloise had been a perfect elf. His employees had been so happy that it fed something in him. And he’d remembered things about Christmases past. Things before Blake. Things that felt right. Good.

  He thought about Eloise, sad at her apartment, and shook his head. It was for her benefit that he’d left her. This time next year she’d probably be so happy she wouldn’t even remember he existed.

  His chest tightened a bit at the thought, but he knew she deserved better, and he forced his mind off her.

  His gaze landed on the pretty decorations in the windows of the building across the street again and he suddenly, overwhelmingly missed his parents. He might have to let Eloise go, but his parents were stuck with him. They had to let him into their lives.

  He chuckled a bit. That was how he’d thought before Blake.

  Maybe Eloise was right. Maybe she had been good for him. He might not be able to have a love in his life, a commitment, but it was time to let his parents in again.

  He picked up his phone and called his mother.

  After a short conversation, he called his pilot and arranged to fly home. Twenty minutes later, he reached into his closet for his leather jacket. But remembering the temperatures by the lakes in December, he changed his mind and took out his old navy blue parka. It should have reminded him of his last trip home, of taking Blake down a snowy slope on a saucer sled. Instead, he thought of Eloise. She’d worn a parka like this one to his fraternity reunion. As old and beat-up as the coat he pulled from the closet, her parka was undoubtedly as warm as this one.

  And if there was one thing he knew about Eloise, it was that she was nothing if not practical.

  He cursed as he shrugged into the coat, telling himself to forget about Eloise. About the pain that sliced through him at the thought of never seeing her again. About the emptiness that had filled his chest as he’d walked away from her. The unmet needs he knew she could fill. He would not saddle her with his life.

  In his plane, he tucked earphones in his ears, put his seat back and listened to the soothing sounds of the ocean for only about ten minutes before the rhythm of the plane put him to sleep. He slept the full hour-long flight.

  He wished his crew happy holidays and they thanked him for the generous bonuses he’d given them for flying so close to Christmas. As he walked down the three steps to the tarmac, he saw his dad’s old beat-up SUV sitting by the hangar of the private airstrip.

  Wearing a brown work coat and boots, his dad leaned on the front fender, huddled against the howling wind that blew snow around him. He waved and joy stuttered through Ricky. He jogged down the steps, duffel bag in hand and walked over. His dad enveloped him in a hug.

  “Your mom is so happy you’re coming home that you better not tell us this is a two-hour visit.”

  He laughed and clasped his dad’s shoulder. “Nope. I took two weeks. The staff has Christmas week off, but I decided I needed a rest.”

  His dad took a step back, studied his face. “You don’t look tired. I expected you to look tired.”

  “I slept on the plane.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Jim Langley said as he rounded the hood of his SUV. “I get that you slept. But I’m not talking about sleepy tired. You’ve been away so long, I expected you to look worn down.”

  He opened the SUV door, tossed his duffel bag into the back and slid onto the passenger’s side seat. “I’ve been coming around. Getting my energy back. Feeling a little better about things.”

  “So your mother said.” He started the vehicle. “Time heals all wounds.”

  “This wound won’t ever heal.”

  His father was quiet for a minute, then he said, “Maybe you don’t want it to heal. You lost your son. Your first child. One of our precious grandchildren. We’ll always remember him.” His dad took his eyes off the road for a second to spear Ricky with a look over his glasses. “But life has to go on.”

  “Yeah. It might take me awhile to get there.” If he ever got there at all, but he wouldn’t burden his dad with that.

  “Well, we’re glad you’re home.”

  They finished the drive to the house talking about the price of grapes and competition from a new vineyard. Ricky’s eyes misted when he saw the huge log ranch house. Colorful Christmas lights blinked from evergreens that lined the lane and rimmed the wide front porch.

  His dad grabbed his bag before Ricky was even out of his seat belt. By the time he came around to the side of the SUV facing the house, his mom was on the porch. She met him on the steps, hugged him so tightly he lost his breath, then pushed him away.

  “Let me look at you.”

  His dad said, “He doesn’t look tired.”

  “No. He doesn’t.” She studied his face again, then hooked her arm through his to walk him into the house.

  Memories of Eloise hooking her arm through his before they entered a ballroom flooded him. He could see her take a breath, put a smile on her face and walk into the room as if she owned it.

  “So? Coffee? Tea?”

  Snapped out of his thoughts, Ricky faced his mom.

  “Your dad’s taken your bag upstairs.” She grinned. “I made snickerdoodles, and your sisters should be here any minute with their kids.”

  He shrugged out of his coat. “I thought they didn’t come over until Christmas morning.”

  His mom batted a hand. “Are you kidding? They couldn’t wait. They’re dying to see you.” She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “You’re the best gift we’re all getting this Christmas.”

  He thought of Eloise again. If she dared go to her parents’ house, she stood a good chance of getting rejected. Yet here he was, being told his visit was his family’s best gift.

  His mother tapped his arm. “You say you’re getting better, but you keep leaving me.”

  He smiled. “Thinking about something.”

  “That’s what worries me.”

  “It’s not what you suspect.” He glanced around the updated house that still retained its rustic log cabin feel. A huge tree stood in front of the window. Garland looped across the fireplace mantel. Candy canes lined the rim of a bowl full of nuts and chocolates. Eloise would love this.

  “I have a friend.” He cleared his throat. “Actually a friend of Olivia’s who needed help finding a job. We spent time together to...well, fix her résumé among other things, and while we did she told me about her family.”

  Her mother tilted her head in question.

  He shook his head, trying to dislodge thoughts of Eloise, especially because he couldn’t explain her.

  “Did she help you feel better?”

  “Yes.” This he could answer. “Assisting her was a big part of why I feel better.”

  “And did she tell you about her good family Christmases and how you needed family? Is that why you suddenly decided to come home?”

  He winced. “Just the opposite. Her family sounds abysmal.” He cleared his throat again. “I guess she made me realize how lucky I have it.”

  “And you gave her a job?”

  “N
o.” He laughed. “She said she wouldn’t take a job with me because she didn’t want everybody at the office thinking she’d only gotten her job because we’d gone out.”

  His mother fell to the chair behind her. “You went out?”

  From the stairs, his dad incredulously said, “On a date?”

  Seeing they were getting the wrong idea, he said, “On eleven dates. But not like you think. I needed someone to go with me to my events so everybody would think I was fine—not grieving anymore—and stop worrying about me. We traded. She went to my parties, and I worked with her to find her a job.”

  Walking over to the sofa, his dad laughed. “You went out with the same woman eleven times?”

  What was so weird about that? “Yes.” He looked from his mother to his father. “She’s very pretty and very nice and we got along very well.”

  His mother said, “Huh.”

  “She had a tragedy in her life, too. She’d married young and her husband died.” He winced. “From cancer. She nursed him through his last months.”

  His dad shook his head. “She sounds like a very nice woman.”

  “She is. Losing her husband really hurt her, but to make matters worse, her family deserted her because her marriage had embarrassed them.”

  His dad’s face contorted with disbelief. “What kind of family does that?”

  “Like I said—a bad one.”

  His mother straightened on her chair. “So what’s she doing for Christmas?”

  He swallowed. “I’m not sure.”

  His dad frowned. “Let me get this straight. You went out with a woman eleven times. Because she had as difficult of a past as yours, you talked enough that she helped you get your bearings about Blake. Yet she told you she had a bad family, probably nowhere to go for Christmas and...” He caught Ricky’s gaze. “You left alone?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  His mother rose. “No. It’s not.” She walked over to his chair and stooped in front of him. “Do you think just anybody can bring you around?”

  He frowned.

  His dad shook his head. “Son, you love this woman.”

  “I don’t. I mean, yes, we were good together. We talked. She talked me through a lot.”

  “What did she say when you told her about Blake?”

  He swallowed. “That she loved me.”

  His mother slapped his arm. “Well, you fool! She told you that she loves you. You talked to her about something you’ve never spoken about with us, and you don’t think you love her?”

  He licked his suddenly dry lips. He could see Eloise’s face, the pain in her eyes when he walked away. But he could also see the happiness in her eyes on tequila night. The way she looked standing at that door, begging him for a kiss...the feelings that tumbled through him as he fought not to kiss her. The desire to be held by her. To belong to her.

  Oh, my God.

  “I—”

  The door opened and his two sisters, their husbands and four kids poured in. After coats were removed and hung, he was enveloped in hugs. And the whole time his mouth stayed open as one truth blinked over and over and over in his brain like a Christmas light stuck in blink mode.

  He loved her.

  He pulled away from a particularly emotional hug from his sister. It all made sense now. That’s why he had wanted to tell her about Blake. Why telling her hadn’t broken his heart.

  She had opened the door for him to move on.

  The question was...could he?

  * * *

  Eloise awakened to the ring of her cell phone. She bounced up in bed, realized it was Christmas, and the deathly silence of her apartment closed in on her.

  She was alone.

  Ricky didn’t want her.

  The pain in her heart became like a great, throbbing weight.

  The phone rang again.

  Maybe Ricky had changed his mind? She’d made her case. She’d seen the sadness in his eyes when he’d left—

  She grabbed the phone.

  But Tucker and Olivia’s engagement picture appeared on her screen.

  Her heart swelled from disappointment. But she chastised herself. These were friends who truly loved her. If nothing else, she’d always have Tucker and Olivia. And Laura Beth would call.

  She might not have the person she loved, but she really wasn’t alone.

  She cleared her throat, then swallowed back her tears before she clicked the button. “Hey, Merry Christmas!”

  “Merry Christmas!”

  The chorus that rang out to her was from Olivia’s entire family. Her chest shivered from the desire to cry.

  “Did you get the Christmas cookies?” Olivia’s mom called.

  “Yes!” She squeezed her eyes shut and swallowed back tears. She’d been in Olivia’s parents’ house enough that she could picture the cozy living room, stockings on the fireplace mantel, a fat awkward tree in the corner brimming with blinking lights and an odd assortment of ornaments collected over the years, each with a story.

  That was tradition. That was love—when you cared enough about someone that you wanted to remember everything they gave you.

  “They’re wonderful.” She tried to keep the wobble out of her voice, but her efforts were in vain. Still, she trudged on. “I’m going to have two for breakfast with my coffee.”

  “Oh, sweetie! Are you crying?”

  Eloise blinked back her tears. “I just woke up. My voice is a bit hoarse.”

  She heard a click, then Olivia’s voice came through the phone clearly. She’d taken her off speaker.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “Yes.” She sucked in a breath. “I love the sweater you bought me. But I wish you hadn’t. Laura Beth and I can’t afford to exchange gifts. We feel awkward.”

  “Gifts are gifts, not obligations.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut, so happy for Olivia that it was hard not to appreciate her gestures. “I know.”

  “Tucker sent his plane back to New York. He said to get yourself to the airport so you can have Christmas dinner with us.”

  Eloise pressed her lips together. “Thanks. But I have to work tomorrow, remember? Besides, I’m fine. I’m going to find some Christmas movies on TV and just relax with your mom’s cookies.”

  “Oh, Eloise, come to Kentucky. I can’t stand to hear you so sad.”

  She almost told Olivia that being alone for Christmas wasn’t her problem. She almost told her that her heart had finally found a place to rest, but Ricky didn’t want her. And that no amount of turkey dinner, Christmas cookies and good friends could make her feel better today.

  Instead, she swallowed and said, “I’m fine. I have a new job the first of the year. Just like I told you when you called yesterday, I’m someday going to be a designer.”

  Olivia’s voice brightened. “Yes, you are.”

  “I’m going to be somebody.”

  “Yes, you are! Next year you’re making all my gowns for the holiday.”

  “And in a few years, you can help me buy all the art for my penthouse.”

  Olivia laughed. Eloise smiled. That was what she wanted. To hear Olivia laugh and know she hadn’t ruined her Christmas. “Go. Celebrate. I’ll be fine.”

  “Okay. Merry Christmas.”

  “Merry Christmas.”

  She clicked off the call and fell back on her pillow. Maybe she could sleep through the day.

  Even as the thought crossed her mind, a knock sounded at her door. Knowing it was probably somebody looking for one of her neighbors, she sighed. Eventually, they’d look at the number on her door, realize their mistake and move on.

  They knocked again.

  She almost called, “Read the number on my door,” but knew they wouldn
’t hear her from her bedroom. After the third series of knocks, she also realized they weren’t going away.

  She flipped off her covers, grabbed her fleece robe and scurried to the door, fixing a smile on her face because she truly didn’t want to ruin anyone’s Christmas. Especially with a scowl over a missed apartment door.

  She sucked in a breath, broadened her fake smile and looked through the peephole.

  Standing in front of her door and holding a Christmas tree was Norman.

  Norman?

  She opened the door. “Don’t you have family?”

  He laughed. “Yes, but I got an entire year’s salary to bring this tree to you.”

  She stepped aside. “That’s just crazy.”

  Ricky walked in behind him. After a quick kiss on her cheek, he said, “I know.”

  Her heart somersaulted. “What are you doing here?”

  He set two bags of ornaments on her sofa. The scent of fresh pine filled the air. He pulled out his cell phone, tapped a few buttons and the music of a carol filled her tiny apartment.

  “I’m making your Christmas merry and bright.”

  Norman tipped his cap. “Unless there’s anything else, I’ll be going.”

  Ricky said, “Thanks, Norman.”

  The driver said, “Merry Christmas,” and left.

  And then they were alone. Confusion sang through her veins, but so did a sting of pride. No woman wanted to be the charity case of the man she loved. She’d rather be alone than pitied.

  She picked up a strand of tinsel. “You didn’t have to do this.”

  “I know.”

  Pride rose in a fierce roar. “I don’t want your charity.”

  “I know that too.”

  Frustrated, she made a strangled sound.

  “Don’t get so huffy. Help me decorate the tree so I can explain.”

  He held out a shiny blue ball.

  With a sigh, she took it.

  “Okay, so I went home for the first time in a year and a half.”

  Although she wanted to be angry, her heart squeezed for him.

  “My parents were thrilled to see me. My sisters brought their kids over. My younger brother hugged me.”