Page 1 of A New Year Baby

PROLOGUE

STELLA, FIVE YEARS AGO

It’s New Year’s Eve, and I had a feeling Jack would propose today.

I was so excited, and I spent hours fussing over what I would wear, hours perfecting my hair and makeup. Until I received that horrible phone call.

“Stella, it’s about your brother…”

Pacing back and forth in our special spot, I wipe tears away from my eyes, surely smudging my smokey black eyeshadow. I don’t even know how I drove here, somehow on autopilot, still in shock from the news. I feel so stupid now, caring so much about my appearance and clothing when someone I love was hurt and fighting for his life. I’ve been attending Christmas parties and celebrations with Jack, popping champagne, laughing and chatting with family and friends every night, into the wee hours of the morning.

I’ve been so happy, and so swept away in these magical holidays with Jack.

I didn’t even know there had been an accident.

Why didn’t anyone tell me until it was too late? I didn’t even get to say goodbye.

Moving to sit in the gazebo, I stare forward blankly in disbelief.

I am still sitting like this when Jack’s car pulls into the parking lot. When he gets out and walks over to me, I try to lift my face and wipe the tears away to properly greet him.

“Stell?” he says with surprise. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, Jack,” I whisper softly. He looks so handsome. I am not sure why he isn’t wearing a coat in this icy Minnesotan weather, but he looks dashing in his three-piece suit. He seems ready to head to our fancy New Year’s Eve party after this, where there would surely be more drinks, decorations and glitter, laughter and family—and maybe he planned to pop the question. He’s finally finished with his residency, and I felt like our lives are just about to really begin. Just a few hours ago, I was over the moon with joy.

I rise to my feet and throw myself into his arms, trying to resist the urge to cry all over his expensive suit and smear it with makeup.

He hugs me back tightly, placing a kiss on my forehead, and wiping away my tears. “Are you okay, baby?” he says gently. “What happened?”

I shake my head, unable to speak. Unable to say it out loud just yet.

It’s too fresh, it’s too shocking.

Jack runs his hand over my hair gently. “You don’t seem very well. Do you want to skip the party tonight and just stay in? We can just cuddle up and watch some TV? Maybe you can bake something? Baking always makes you feel better.”

I nod quickly. Yes. That’s definitely a better idea than being around people. I can’t bear to put on a smile tonight. Baking will help.

But I feel awful—I am sure that Jack had something special planned.

We’ve been dreaming of this day for years. All through his college and medical school, and while I was away studying to be a pastry chef. We’ve been yearning for the moment our lives would settle down and we could finally be together again. Permanently. It’s been difficult to be away from each other so much. Life was easy in high school—we got together at the young age of sixteen and we fought to stay together through every obstacle.

I think Christmas is what kept us together. These precious holidays spent at home in magical Snowflake Creek. For a few weeks in December, life feels happy and normal, and perfect again. Until now.

“Doesn’t the town look lovely tonight?” Jack asks, as he puts an arm around me and gazes out from the gazebo. It’s only 5pm, but it’s already dark as midnight.

I nod. The whole town of Snowflake Creek is aglow with bright and colorful lights to celebrate the holidays. I wonder if there’s any other town on the planet that is as festive as our little home. No one ever takes their lights down. They just add more and more each year. I just wish I could enjoy it tonight, and feel the warmth as much as I usually do.

This spot has the best view, hands down. Our gazebo is at a secluded lookout (and make out) spot in the middle of a hiking trail just outside town. Jack and I always used to come here when we were younger, and spend hours hiking together—spend hours making out in his old beat-up car.

We have so many fond memories here. But now I just feel so numb and cold. Still reeling from the loss, I can’t seem to enjoy anything. When another car pulls into the parking lot, I grab Jack’s hand.

“Let’s go,” I tell him, sniffling and wiping my nose.

“Just wait a minute,” he says, as a few other cars pull into the area.

“Jack,” I say softly. “Please. I just want to go home. Meet you there?” I reach into the pocket of my fur coat for my car keys, and step out of the gazebo. But a person blocks my path.

It’s my mother. Where did she come from? She must have been in one of the cars.

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