Page 34 of All I Want for Christmas
He and Sadie may have been faking a lot of things, but the magic they created together, both on- and offstage—you couldn’t fake that. But he had misjudged both her and thesituation. He still felt sick when he remembered Sadie’s tears and cutting words the night they’d won.
He had since ignored her calls and texts. Most of his time in Banff had been about trying to pretend that Sadie Hunter didn’t exist, even if the rest of the world still believed that they were an item. It was immature and, quite frankly, self-destructive, but he also didn’t see a way out of it now.
—
Later, after another failed attempt at songwriting (and watching the video a half dozen more times), Max decided to head into “town.” The snow had picked up again, and so he wore his ski goggles for the walk—it might have been an odd look to some, but here it was a perfectly normal sight during snowstorms.
About twenty minutes later Max arrived at the base of the hill, to what the locals referred to as “Fox’s Corners.” It was named as such because of the Fox family (headed up by Marty Fox), who owned the only three buildings in town—a repair shop with one gas pump, a small but surprisingly well-stocked general store, and a bar, with its popular comfort-foods menu.
The best part about Fox’s Corners, aside from the bar’s French onion soup, was that here he didn’t have to be anyone other than “just Max.” He was one of the “regulars,” meaning he wasn’t a permanent resident, but he also wasn’t a tourist. Yes, the townspeople knew preciselywhohe was, but in Fox’s Corners you were more revered for your hunting and fishing skills than any sort of musical celebrity, which suited “just Max” just fine.
A bell chimed above the repair shop’s front door as he opened it, and smells of gasoline and metal, with a hint of something sharp and acrid, like rubber burning, filled Max’s nose. There was a small, fake Christmas tree in the front window, which—with its dusty boughs and only about half the lights working—had seen better days. A young woman popped her head out of the tiny office at the back.
Mary Fox was Marty’s daughter, and she helped her dad out when she was home for university breaks.
“You’re still here, eh? Thought you’d be long gone by now,” Mary said, giving him a hug.
“You and everyone else.” Max gave Mary a lopsided smile.
“So, what brings you by?”
“Just wanted to drop this off. An early Christmas gift.”
He pulled a large package, wrapped in candy-cane paper that he’d found in the cabin, out of his backpack.
“Oh, you didn’t have to do this!” Mary took the wrapped package in her hands, then shook it a couple of times.
“They’re scarves,” Max said. “For your whole family.”
“Well, personally I prefer to be surprised by a gift...”
Max laughed, mumbled an apology for ruining the surprise.
The Foxes had often invited Max, his mom, and his sister to join them for dinner at the bar when they were at the cabin while Holden toured. In some ways he felt more at home in Fox’s Corners than he did back in Nashville.
“Anyway, I should probably head out,” Max said. “Merry almost Christmas, Mary.”
“Same to you,” Mary replied.
Max said a final goodbye and shut the door behind him. He considered heading to the bar for some lunch, but then hisphone vibrated in his coat pocket. He expected to see Bobbi’s name flash on the screen, but it was his sister, Becca.
He frowned, contemplated calling her back when he got to the bar, but he had a rule that he never ignored a call from Becca. Ever since that night at the Sparrow when she had been trying to reach him—with the hardest news he had ever received—and he’d blown off her calls.
“Hey,” he said.
“Get your ass back to Nashville, Max. Pronto.” There was some shuffling in the background. He pressed the phone tighter to his ear.
Max stopped walking. “Becca? Is everyone okay?”
“Everyone is fine,” Becca replied. “But can we say the same for you?”
Max ignored her comment. “You can’t stress me out like this. Are you sure everything is fine? Where are you?”
“I’m home. In Nashville.”
“Since when?” Max asked. Becca lived in England, and didn’t get back to the States all that often.
“Oh, since about four hours ago,” Becca replied. “Look, Max, I don’t know what’s going on with you, but you need to come home. It’s almost Christmas. Don’t you want to see your favorite sister?”
