Page 53 of No Business Like Snow Business

“Fine,” I said, pushing myself slowly up from the chair. “Okay. Fine.” I grabbed my phone and looked around for a place far enough away from Martha that she wouldn’t hear me make a fool of myself, and far enough away from Festival Hall that I wouldn’t have to shout to be heard. When I saw no such place, I said, “Fine,” again and strode outside.

The town looked magical in the dark—lights twinkling everywhere, garlands with big red bows around all the lampposts. I dialed Sterling before I could second-guess the decision, and then hung up after two rings when I reminded myself he was probably bonding with his long-lost uncle and Kyle, and I shouldn’t interrupt that.

The phone buzzed in my hand almost immediately.

Sterling.

I debated not answering. As if that was going to happen.

“Hi,” I said tentatively.

“Hi,” he said. His voice was soft, low.

“I didn’t want to interrupt, if you were talking with Win.” God. I was going to chicken out before we came anywhere near what I needed to say. “But this is important.” I tried for strength in my tone, which only seemed to translate to volume.

“Yeah,” he said. It wasn’t really a question. It was like he already knew what I was going to say. Even though I sure as hell didn’t.

“I want you to do what’s best for you. But if it were up to me, you’d stay in Christmas Falls, and we’d give this a chance.”

“I know,” he said, softer still.I know. But that’s why you’re an idiot, Harvey, because I have a life in New York, and we’ve only known each other a few days, and you’re still smarting from Steven and looking for a reb—“I think we should.”

My hand, already half numb with cold, tightened around the phone. “Really?” But he wouldn’t say it if he didn’t mean it. And the sense that we were having this conversation together, rather than me just spewing my incoherent feelings into the phone, helped immeasurably.

“Yes. I haven’t stopped thinking about you since you left here. I don’t really ever stop thinking about you at all.”

My throat tightened, and the twinkling lights of town blurred. I wiped quickly at my eyes. “Yeah. I don’t stop thinking about you either.”

“Whereas it’s very easy to stop thinking about New York. I’d be fine never thinking about it again.”

I couldn’t deny how glad I was to hear that. But I didn’t want him to burn all his bridges either. “If it doesn’t work out, you can always?—”

“Harvey, shut up.” He said it gently, in a way that warmed me. “One step at a time, okay? I’m staying. And we’re trying this.”

He’s staying. My brain repeated it over and over.He’s staying.People hurried by on the sidewalk, and a horse-drawn carriage clopped down main street.

“Furthermore,” he said, “I feel strongly that you and your grandma should come to Christmas dinner at Win and Kyle’s in a few weeks. I know it’s early to ask, but they’ve offered, and it would be rude to say no, don’t you think? I mean, it’sChristmas.”

I laughed, swiping my eyes with the side of my hand again. “So rude,” I agreed. “Oh God.” I had to take another second to steady my voice. “I hope Win and Kyle don’t think they’re going to do all the cooking. My grandma’s going to take over their kitchen, fair warning.”

“They’ve probably got enough reindeer aprons for all of us.” Sterling paused. “Martha already RSVPed on your behalf. She said she’d drag you if she had to. But I thought I’d ask, as a courtesy.”

“Kind of you,” I said, realizing suddenly that I was smiling so hard I was afraid my face would get stuck like that in the cold. “Nobody…nobody’s ever going to have to drag me to see you. Just so you know.”

“Good,” he replied, still in that soft, warm voice.

We talked about nothing in particular until I reached a point where I was either going to get frostbite or fired if I didn’t go back into the museum. I hung up feeling like nothing around me was quite real. So I clung to the words currently serving as my anchor, keeping me from floating up past the strands of winking lights and the garlanded lampposts, and off into the cloudy winter sky.

He’s staying.

fifteen

STERLING

“I’m taking a chance on a new beginning,” I said to the tartan stag head on the wall. “I am choosing to believe in hope.”

“Oh, is that what you’re going with?” Win asked, the door slamming shut behind him as he lugged an armful of firewood inside. “Because it sounds like you’ve been abducted by a cult of people who wear yoga pants and readEat, Pray, Love.”

Kyle took off his woolen hat and thwapped Win over the head with it. “Let Sterling practice for his call.” He threw me an apologetic look. “We’re heading out to our neighbor’s in a few. Gonna help him clear his driveway. That’ll give you some privacy.”

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