Page 17 of Can't Miss Christmas

CHAPTER 5

Grace stood at the window in the silent, darkening room, watching the strings of Christmas lights come on one by one in the little shops along the main street of Mirror Lake. If she put her cheek to the window and looked way off to the left, she could see the Christmas tree in the town square glowing like a Christmas card picture. The snow hadn’t started falling again yet, but clouds hung low in the sky.

The lights only distracted her for a moment from the heavy feeling in the pit of her stomach. It felt like she’d swallowed a boulder. Actually, it felt like there was one in her head too. She was achy all over, light-headed and nauseous. Maybe she was coming down with the flu.

Heartsick, that’s what she was. She loved him. And she always would.

She remembered how, early on, he’d begged her—to start fresh, to try again for another baby, to let him in.

Even after the depression, she hadn’t been capable. Her parents’ marriage and the way they’d simply gone off to lead separate lives afterward had made her insulate herself against pain and wonder about her own capacity to love.

The absolute ache she felt told her she was capable now. And she was sorry—sorry she hadn’t ever told him how much he’d meant to her. Sorry she’d pushed him away in their marriage. Sorry she’d expected him to somehow understand her without being able to tell him how much she needed him—how much she’d always needed him.

The tough-as-nails attitude that had enabled her to survive these past few years had acted like a suit of armor. It had enabled her survival. But it had also kept everyone out.

Neither of them could have prevented the death of their child. But they could have controlled what happened afterward.

She could control what happenednow.

Grace left the window and bolted across the room. She took time to slide a key from the dresser into her back jeans pocket, and ran out the door.

The lobby was aglow with lights—from the big, beautiful tree in front of the two-story wall of windows, to the lighted garlands around all the doors, to the roaring fire in the giant carved fireplace. The lobby door opened briefly with the influx of guests and a gust of fresh, crisp air brought the promise of more snow.

Frantically, she looked around at the people gathered in all the sofas and chairs, the seats at the lobby bar. No sign of Graham. She’d given too little too late, just like the first time. She couldn’t live with that.

She ran to the front desk. “Excuse me, Hector,” she asked the manager. “Have you seen…have you seen the man I was with yesterday?”

“Oh, yes, miss. He was running late for the bus, and Chief Rushford gave him a ride in his cruiser.”

“Thank you,” she said. “Where does the bus leave from?”

“Across from the bridal shop. Three blocks that way.” He pointed with his pen in the general direction of the town.

Grace took off. No coat, no cell, and Ugg ripoff slippers to boot. She ran through the slush and snow, oblivious to everything—her aching lungs, the bitter cold, her wet feet—except her need to find Graham. She finally reached The Bridal Aisle, only to find the tiny bus shelter near the road deserted.

Tears burned behind her lids, despite the fact that the rest of her was freezing. Graham was gone. There would be no fairy tale second chance in this beautiful fairy tale town.

Fearing the worst but needing to be absolutely sure, she threw open the door to the bridal shop, which was still open at four p.m. on Christmas Eve.

“Did—the—bus—leave?” she asked between gasps. Two women were dressing a mannequin in the middle of the store. The younger woman, who wore her dark hair pulled back in a ponytail, took her gently by the arm and led her to a cushioned chair.

“My name’s Meg, one of the owners. I’m afraid you just missed the bus.”

Of course she had. Because she’d hesitated. Because she’d been afraid.

“You walked from the hotel without a coat or shoes? Oh my Lord,” said a very polished woman in a beige suit, who came out from the back room and introduced herself as Alex.

Her astute gaze swept quickly over Grace’s state of dishevelment. “Meg, honey, you still have that Crown Royal from the mayor’s daughter’s wedding in the back?” Then she left to fetch it.

The women sat down with Grace. They made her take off her wet socks and slippers and gave her tea, shortbread cookies, and a throw for her lap. And they listened to her story. Turned out Meg was the ER doctor’s wife, and Alex was the cop’s. Small world. Or at least, small town.

“You may have a bus to catch tomorrow morning,” Alex said, “but you’re not staying alone until then. Happy hour at MacNamara’s starts at five, then we’re all going caroling. Come with us.”

Their genuine kindness touched her, but there was no way she was going to hang around people tonight, even really nice ones. “Thank you both for helping me. But I’m afraid I wouldn’t be good company.”

“Of course you won’t be,” Meg said. “That’s why you should be around other people. Besides, you have to eat dinner.”

It probably beat crying alone in her hotel room. The room where she’d made love with Graham just a few hours ago.

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