Page 56 of The Christmas Letters
Tess:Because when YOU texted me tonight, I felt…whole. Happy. I feel that way whenever you text. That has to mean something, right?
Drew:I feel that way too. But see this thing through, Tess. I have a feeling everything is going to work out. No matter what, I’m here.
It took a little bit of Christmas magic to find a dress on such short notice, but with Chloe’s help, I’m standing on the yacht club’s back patio ten minutes before seven in a perfect red dress, killer heels, and the jewelry I wore on my wedding day. Or my not-so-wedding day? The earrings and matching bracelet were a gift from my grandmother, and I’m so happy to have a new reason to wear them. Hopefully, the night will turn into a new reason to love them.
The yacht club is decked out in all its Christmas finery, and it couldn’t look more beautiful. White twinkle lights line the terrace and stretch overhead, and delicate snowflakes hang from the strands, casting tiny, glittery shadows across the terrace floor. Decorated Christmas trees flank the doors leading inside, and I breathe in the pine scent that fills the air.
I smooth my hands down the front of my dress and take a steadying breath. “I can do this, right?” I ask Chloe, who is standing beside me holding my purse and my phone, both things she’s promised to keep safe while I’m meeting Max.
“You absolutely can,” she says.
Over Chloe’s shoulder, I catch a glimpse of my mother striding across the dining room. We make eye contact, and she pauses, lifting her hand in a small wave. I could be making things up, but there’s a tenderness to her expression that warms me, despite the cool December air.
Mom was beyond thrilled when I told her I was coming to the gala. She didn’t even care when I told her I wouldnotbe dancing with Johnny Stager. It’s a small victory, but I’ll take every win I can get when it comes to my parents.
“Okay, I’m going inside,” Chloe says. “It’s three minutes to seven, so he should be here any minute.”
I take another steadying breath. “Okay.”
“You’re good?”
“Yes? Maybe? I’m doing the right thing here, yeah?”
She looks at me. “What do you mean? Meeting Max?”
I nod.
She reaches over and gives my hand a reassuring squeeze. “You absolutely are. It’s going to be great, Tess. I promise.”
I don’t know how Chloe thinks she can know, but I appreciate the reassurance anyway. She heads inside, and I turn and walk to the edge of the terrace. The moon is bright overhead, glinting off the white-capped waves as they tumble onto the beach. The breeze coming off the ocean is uncomfortably chilly, but I’m too nervous to truly care.
Weirdly, what keeps floating to the surface of my mind isn’t the last letter I received from Max, oranyof the letters, really. It’s my last text message from Drew.
See this thing through, Tess. I have a feeling everything is going to work out.
I squeeze my eyes closed and remember those words, repeating them over and over in my head.
“Tess,” a voice says from behind me.
I open my eyes, staring at the ocean for one beat, then another, and another.
“You’re okay,” I whisper to myself, one hand pressed against my abdomen.
Then I turn, and he’s standing right in front of me.
Not Max.Drew.
As if my thoughts of him conjured him out of thin air.
“Drew?”
He takes a cautious step forward, a hesitant smile on his face. I liked Drew in a uniform. And then I liked Drew in jeans and a hoodie. But Drew in a suit that looks like it was made for him, accentuating his broad shoulders and his narrow waist—this is my favorite look yet. He’s gorgeous.
More importantly, he’shere.
My eyes drop to his hands, where he’s holding a stack of letters.
I gasp.My letters.
