Page 7 of Wishing for Christmas
“That simple.” Clara folded her arms across her chest. She’d never been more serious or decisive in her life.
Lily stared at her, clearly not understanding.
Clara sighed and leaned in closer. “Look, I love that you and Kyle have been together forever and that you two took your time to make sure you were making the right decision.”
“But . . .?”
“But it’s not for me. Not anymore, anyway. It’s too difficult, too time-consuming. I’m not the same girl who let Matthew pull me along for years. I’m thirty years old, and I’m not getting any younger. Besides, waiting certainly hasn’t worked for me in the past.”
Lily raised her eyebrows over her martini glass. “But don’t you think that some things—usually the best things—are worth the wait?”
Clara pursed her lips and looked at her lap. “I used to believe that, but I don’t know anymore.”
It was true. As a child, Clara had always believed that the best part of Christmas was simply waiting for it. Before tearing into the wrapping paper, the anticipation that brought the daycloser was the most exciting part of all. The entire season was like one of those advent calendars with a tiny chocolate behind each door. Every day would bring her closer to the approaching holiday, but not without its own delightful surprise waiting around each corner.
She wasn’t sure she felt the same way anymore. Years of waiting around for Matthew to make decisions that affectedherhad evidently taken a toll. Clara shook her head as she replayed her earlier conversation with him—as she replayed everything. The truth was, she was tired of being forced to wait for things to happen in their own slow time. She was tired of everything being so complicated. For once, she just wanted things to happen. Now.
She drummed her fingers on the table as her theory came together. She looked up at Lily with an assertive nod. “Maybe something as important as your first Christmas together reallycantell you everything you need to know.”
Lily shrugged. She didn’t seem convinced.
“Too bad I didn’t realize this sooner,” Clara said, more to herself than to anyone else. “That first Christmas with him should have been my first clue.”
“Who, Matthew? Yeah, I remember how that turned out.” Lily made a face of sympathy.
“The first time he dumped me, but not the last.” That should’ve been her first sign that they weren’t right for each other. She wasn’t going to make that mistake again. “I only need one simple thing this time: a magical Christmas.”
Lily laughed. “Well, magical or not, Christmas is only a few weeks away. You think you can make a huge life decision like that in such a short amount of time?”
“I do,” Clara said.
“Wow, so this Christmas is really important then,” Lily said, her eyes wide.
“It’s everything,” Clara replied matter-of-factly.
“Well, okay then. I hope it all works out.”
Clara nodded, biting her lower lip.
“I mean that.” Lily paused, looking her in the eye. “But, Clar, what about all the other considerations? Have you ever thought about what it would mean to be married to someone, you know, with that kind of . . . job?”
Clara ignored that last question. She knew Brent’s being in the military was something she would have to think about eventually. But not now. No, tonight was for celebrating and for talking about the fun stuff. Not any of those messy details.
She leaned back in her chair and glanced over Lily’s shoulder to the window. Fat snowflakes floated to the ground outside. She felt as if she were one of them, floating around on a holiday high. Yes, this Christmaswasgoing to be magical. She needed it to be. She was done waiting.
CHAPTER FOUR
BRENT
With his flight canceled, Brent came home and changed out of his flight suit and into a pair of faded jeans and a flannel shirt. He couldn’t wait to get downstairs to his woodworking shop. If he couldn’t be in the air, it was the next best place.
He considered calling Clara to see if she wanted to get together, but it was the first Friday of the month. She would have plans with her friend, Lily. It was probably for the best, anyway. He couldn’t just throw a date together at the last minute like that. A girl like her deserved a little preparation and planning—like what he had in store for their upcoming romantic dinner. As far as he was concerned, there were more important matters to attend to tonight.
His disappointment from the canceled flight was soon forgotten as he descended the creaky stairs into the damp basement. The smell of pine filled the air. There was nothing he loved more than that musty basement aroma, especially when he had one of his projects underway. His tools sat neatly organized on a sturdy workbench. A modest piece of eastern white pine lay on top. He took a slow inhale through his nose.
Brent had bought his house, a small 1970s fixer-upper on a great piece of land, when he first arrived in town a few years ago.Knowing the Air Force wouldn’t keep him in any place too long, it didn’t make a lot of sense for him to buy a property, especially one that needed extensive renovations. But there was something about this house he couldn’t resist. He could tell it had potential, and all it needed was somebody who could put the time and effort into bringing it back to life.
After a year or so of planning, painting, and polishing, he had transformed the old house into a beautiful home. He planned to sell it for a sizable profit when it was time for him to move on from the area, a nice bonus. But, mostly, it was about the work he put into it and the pride he took in a successful outcome.
