Page 66 of Missile Tow
“Oh, I almost forgot,” I began. “John and his parents will be in attendance on Christmas Eve.”
You’d think I’d smacked him across the face. “The fuck they will!”
“Sadie has invited them,” I said, nonchalantly unwrapping a Hershey’s bar and shoving it in my mouth.
“We’re not going then,” he insisted, grabbing my favorite candy bar and taking a huge bite. “And I apologize for the eruption. You surprised me, is all,” he added, talking with a mouthful of chocolate.
During his outburst, and before he stole my candy, he’d dropped my hand faster than a lightning strike on a sizzling summer’s afternoon when I delivered the shocking news. I took the Hershey’s from him, set it aside, and stepped closer, laying my head against his chest. He instinctively wrapped me in his arms, resting his chin on the top of my head. He felt like home, and I knew I had to make sure I made one for myself with him.
“We might as well face the reality now rather than later,” I said, my voice muffled against his chest. I moved my head and looked up at him. “If we plan on sharing a life in Missile, we should show a united front.”
“Jesus!” he huffed, pulling me closer. “I don’t know about this, Van. Are you certain you’re up for the scrutiny and the bullshit?”
“What are you worried about?” I asked, concerned I didn’t step on his toes or do anything he felt was none of my business.
“Only that you’ll decide to leave town.”
I snuggled closer against his chest, inhaling his Irish Spring scent. “If I’m so weak I can’t fight for the man I love, you’ll be lucky I did leave.”
“I’d follow you,” he said. “I don’t need this town that much.”
I can’t exactly say where the bravado and the strength to face my fears head-on came from, but I was convinced Chip and my future happiness required a mental strength I may have lacked before coming to this quaint town. Now I needed to dig deep and listen to my inner voice. Chip was my man.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN: Chip
The closer Christmas Eve got, the more anxious I felt. The thought of spending an evening with John, his parents,andmy new boyfriend seemed untenable in the best of circumstances.
No matter how many times I expressed my concern to Van, he wouldn’t agree that meeting everyone all at once was a bad idea. His feelings remained the same. “Bite the bullet,” he’d said.
He seemed resigned to getting the inevitable out of the way. He was either the strongest man I’d ever met by facing his fears, or he was a fool to fall for Mrs. Hatfield’s obvious scheme. And of course, I believed he was strong, but I wondered why she’d moved on from James as my next partner.
If it hadn’t been for the mess of the unexpected craziness of John’s imminent return, my holiday thus far was amazing. Van’s love of Christmas made mine seem amateurish. He was beyond any person I’d met when it came to being festive and full of cheer.
He greeted every person he met with holiday cheer of some sort. The mercantile sound system was cranked up several notches, dialed to a station playing nonstop holiday songs. He knew every song and sang along like he was a choir leader, his voice pure and sweet.
The store windows were outlined with bright lights. The exterior of the building was outlined as well. He sprayed fakesnow from a can to make the windows appear frosted. Every single inflatable animal previously in storage was plugged in and placed somewhere. The roof, the sidewalks, the gas pumps. No available space was missed.
The tree he designed for inside the mercantile was old-fashioned, like the exterior of the building. He added rustic ornaments and real tree branches. Tarnished-looking bells and antique figurines filled every open area on the real tree. He’d found items I didn’t know Mom and Dad had stored away.
Everything had a theme and a perfected look. He was a master at decorating the mercantile for Christmas. And don’t get me started on the cabin. Frankly, I didn’t know when he’d found the time.
Bertie was in love, too. I was well aware of how fond Bertie was of John. Deservedly so. John was a wonderful human being. But her affection toward Van was pleasing to witness. Van fawned over her like she was his grandmother. He made sure she ate well, got home safely, and took her meds on time. He was everything I wished I was in how he interacted with her.
The mercantile buzzed with life again, and the feeling was contagious. You couldn’t be around Van without witnessing the wonder with which he lived his life. Yes, he was a dreamer. Yes, he was overly optimistic. But what he wasn’t was artificial. You knew he walked the walk. He truly believed what he represented to each of us. Simply put, he was a breath of fresh air.
What had I done to deserve such a man, who’d randomly shown up and impacted my world the way he did? How he managed to pull me back into my life astounded me. There was pure joy in him at all times. Even when he worried, he could find his way through. He possessed a childlike quality of wonder while never forgetting he was a grown man. I absolutely adored him.
I admired Van’s desire to face the people in my world and get the unease out of the way. He wanted to be a valued member of the community, yet he understood I’d had a life before his arrival. Faced with a reversal of fortune, one where I entered his world, populated with his people, forced to adapt, I doubted I could do what he was managing to do. The bigger question? How had Evan let him go?
I jumped in the Jeep I was working on, catching a glimpse of Van outside as he sprinted to the gas pump to fill Ms. Klompke’s SUV with fuel. Sarah Klompke lost her leg to diabetes a few years back, and Van knew I always pumped her gas. He also knew I’d promised Mr. Hall I’d get his transmission repaired before Christmas so he could pick his daughter up at the Missoula airport.
That example, and so many more, was why Missile had fallen in love with the man I wanted to be with so badly I ached inside. I was completely smitten. No need to sugarcoat my feelings about him. I was hopelessly in love with a man I’d known for less than two weeks.
Instead of believing the universe would expose him as a fraud. Or that I was ignorant of the reality of love at first sight, I decided to think as Van did. I chose to believe the universe does send messages. I also chose to accept as true that good people find good people if somehow guided to them. Van believed it. Hell, Vanpreachedthe gospel of positive thinking. Why couldn’t I?
A smack to the rear of the Jeep woke me from my lovefest of emotions. Before I could exit the vehicle, Van stood by the driver’s door, smiling like only he could. So full of love for me, I wanted to actually weep.
“Almost done, stud?” he asked, licking his thumb and swiping at grease on my chin.
