Page 40 of Wishing for Christmas
They smiled at each other. The intimacy of the moment lingered between them. Perfectly in sync, they said what they were thinking at the exact same time. “We’ll pass.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CLARA
Clara couldn’t pull her thoughts away from that kiss. Was that some kind of Christmas magic, or what? Maybe itwasmagic. Or maybe she simply got caught up in the romance of the moment.
Whatever Clara felt, it was unlike any kiss she’d ever had before, even with him. Sure, they’d kissed plenty of times before. In fact, the entire two months of dating were full of those spine-tingling kisses. Still, there was something unique about the one they’d just shared. Something that made her wonder if some enchanted element could really be at play here.
Clara and Brent sat at a table with several other couples as coffee and dessert were served. For the first time that evening, she felt relaxed. All thanks to that long-awaited moment of connection. She hadn’t realized how much she’d needed it—some sign that she wasn’t chasing a romantic pipe dream. She’d been craving that spark, a little nugget of hope that the splendor of the holidayscouldbring them together, for real. Above all, she’d needed confirmation that Brent really did have the potential to be the one. Well, she got it.
It was a good thing too, since they were already engaged. She laughed inwardly at the absurd irony of the whole situation.
Clara sat back in her chair and sipped her coffee. Brent chatted with his squadron commander seated on his other side. It sounded as if there was some big Christmas Eve mission coming up—something important. She gleaned from the conversation that Brent wouldn’t be assigned to it since he was on post-deployment leave. It was a tidbit she was relieved to hear. The last thing they needed right now was to miss Christmas together after all this. Even so, his eyes remained glued to his commander as he detailed the plans for the mission.
Brent’s attention focused elsewhere; Clara took the opportunity to think about the evening. When he’d kissed her on the dance floor, any of the reservations she’d had about their relationship seemed to fly out the window. Maybe that magical ornament really could bring her and Brent together. Well, it had brought her this far. And at this point, she was willing to believe in anything. It looked as if this Christmas magic thing could take care of this whole problem on its own. If that was the case, she didn’t need to tell Brent anything about the wish. Right?
She still wasn’t sure, but the one thing Clarawassure of was that she was having a great time with Brent. He was fun, charming, and thoughtful—everything she had known him to be over the past couple of months. There seemed to bemoreabout him tonight too, something new she hadn’t discovered previously. Whatever it was—it made her smile.
Clara took in the officer’s club, quietly observing the other men and women who were part of this squadron. People chatted away about all sorts of things—flying airplanes, having babies, moving bases. She picked at her cake, content to be on the outside listening in.
Normally, Clara hated not having someone to talk to at a party. That feeling of insecurity, the concern that others may interpret it as aloofness. Tonight, though, she found it oddly comforting. She appreciated this time to be alone withher thoughts and soak up things around her without outside voices to distract her. Besides, she was feeling relaxed from the champagne and that kiss with Brent. He looked over at her to make sure she wasn’t bored. She gave him a smile to let him know she was happy to be right where she was.
A small group of women at a table behind her were making ambitious plans for an upcoming girls’ trip while their husbands discussed last season’s fantasy football league. Clara glanced over to see a small group of men in civilian clothes hanging out by the bar. She gathered these were the husbands of some of the female pilots in the squadron. She heard accents in the room that sounded like they came from everywhere, from Birmingham to Boston. Every race, gender, and background seemed to be represented here. She could have listened in all night like a fly on the wall. She wanted to hear more about these people and their stories. Clara was beginning to enjoy this peek into squadron life, as much as the feeling surprised her.
Even so, there was still no part of her that wanted to be a military spouse herself—a hard truth she would need to deal with eventually. It seemed to be such a lonely existence. Constantly moving around the country. Leaving your friends and family behind. Leaving any career behind—all for a man who would leave you alone in a strange place for months on end. No thank you. It was one thing to date someone like that, but it was a totally different thing to consider marrying them.
The worst part was that she hadn’t been given the chance to properly consider marriage with Brent. This had all been sprung on her so suddenly, with no time to really think about things. When they first started dating, she assumed she’d have plenty of time to think about a possible future with him before jumping into any big commitment.
Again, she felt that desperate need for her life to slow down. It was spinning out of control faster than she could keep up. Sheneeded more information or perhaps more experience. Really, she just needed more time.
Clara thought again about her relationship with Matthew. Though that relationship may have been complicated in its own way, at least he’d always been around for her. Although, maybe that had been the biggest problem with Matthew. He wasalwaysaround—to help her out, to solve her problems, to influence her decisions. She never could seem to detach from him, even now.
This past week at the hotel had been the hardest of her entire career. Without Matthew around to help, she still wasn’t sure how any of this was going to work, how she’d get a handle on her responsibilities as general manager. Work life aside, Clara knew she’d needed him a little too much in other ways too. Maybe some independence in a relationship wouldn’t be such a bad thing for her. But to marry someone in the military? That was another extreme entirely.
She wondered what it would be like to be married to Brent. To be part of this life. She had to admit, she could understand the appeal—for some people. She thought about what it would feel like to be a part of something so important. Being a part of the history of this squadron and its vital mission over the years must feel like an incredible honor.
She looked over at Brent, who caught her eye with a warm smile. She was proud of him and impressed with the things he accomplished—both at home and overseas. She considered how it must feel for the spouses of these airmen to be part of that service to their country. To contribute to the overall mission in their own way.
Maybe she was beginning to understand what people meant when they said, “Being a part of something bigger than yourself.” She’d never been connected to anything significant like that before. She’d never really thought about life in that way at all.Her choices always seemed to steer themselves toward what most naturally fit into place for her. Whether it was going to college, working at the Darlington, or dating Matthew, she had always done what simply felt like the most sensible—or perhaps the easiest—thing to do. She had never made any tough decisions, gone out on a limb, or contributed to something more meaningful than her own small-scale existence.
Clara looked back at Brent, still focused on the conversation with his commander. He nodded along to everything he said. Whatever that Christmas Eve mission involved, Brent was enthralled.
Even after knowing him for only two months, it was obvious to her that Brent was sharp and skilled at the controls of a plane. But there was a stronger force that moved him. She could tell that he had a heart that was calling him to do what he did, that his military service wasn’t only a way for him to fly airplanes. He truly believed in the mission.
Still, as much as Brent was committed to this life, she knew her reservations couldn’t be ignored forever. If only magic could take care of that problem too.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CLARA
Clara left the Darlington, stepping into the cold afternoon air. She bent over and rested her hands on her knees, letting out a long exhale. Her breath rose in a cloud of frost before her.
It had been an intense couple of weeks at the hotel. Although relieved to be finished with her workday, she was now emotionally and physically drained. Finally, it was the week before Christmas.
The first weeks of December were always the busiest of the year at the hotel, and this year had been no exception. As interim sales manager, Clara was still responsible for the end-of-year sales report, not to mention the booking, planning, and perfect execution of dozens of parties throughout the month.
This year, she’d had the additional challenge of acting as the general manager too. And to her, it did feel like acting. Clara was racked with exhaustion, not to mention a severe case of impostor syndrome, over the whole thing. Sure, she was slowly beginning to find her footing, but she still had a long way to go. She’d had to fight the urge—or habit—to call Matthew on more than one occasion. Whether it was to solve a problem or simply answer a question, she was tempted to go for the quickest fix—him.
