CHAPTER 5
Grace stood at the window in the silent, darkening room, watching the strings of Christmas lights come on one by one in the little shops along the main street of Mirror Lake. If she put her cheek to the window and looked way off to the left, she could see the Christmas tree in the town square glowing like a Christmas card picture. The snow hadn’t started falling again yet, but clouds hung low in the sky.
The lights only distracted her for a moment from the heavy feeling in the pit of her stomach. It felt like she’d swallowed a boulder. Actually, it felt like there was one in her head too. She was achy all over, light-headed and nauseous. Maybe she was coming down with the flu.
Heartsick, that’s what she was. She loved him. And she always would.
She remembered how, early on, he’d begged her—to start fresh, to try again for another baby, to let him in.
Even after the depression, she hadn’t been capable. Her parents’ marriage and the way they’d simply gone off to lead separate lives afterward had made her insulate herself against pain and wonder about her own capacity to love.
The absolute ache she felt told her she was capable now. And she was sorry—sorry she hadn’t ever told him how much he’d meant to her. Sorry she’d pushed him away in their marriage. Sorry she’d expected him to somehow understand her without being able to tell him how much she needed him—how much she’d always needed him.
The tough-as-nails attitude that had enabled her to survive these past few years had acted like a suit of armor. It had enabled her survival. But it had also kept everyone out.
Neither of them could have prevented the death of their child. But they could have controlled what happened afterward.
She could control what happened now.
Grace left the window and bolted across the room. She took time to slide a key from the dresser into her back jeans pocket, and ran out the door.
The lobby was aglow with lights—from the big, beautiful tree in front of the two-story wall of windows, to the lighted garlands around all the doors, to the roaring fire in the giant carved fireplace. The lobby door opened briefly with the influx of guests and a gust of fresh, crisp air brought the promise of more snow.
Frantically, she looked around at the people gathered in all the sofas and chairs, the seats at the lobby bar. No sign of Graham. She’d given too little too late, just like the first time. She couldn’t live with that.
She ran to the front desk. “Excuse me, Hector,” she asked the manager. “Have you seen…have you seen the man I was with yesterday?”
“Oh, yes, miss. He was running late for the bus, and Chief Rushford gave him a ride in his cruiser.”
“Thank you,” she said. “Where does the bus leave from?”
“Across from the bridal shop. Three blocks that way.” He pointed with his pen in the general direction of the town.
Grace took off. No coat, no cell, and Ugg ripoff slippers to boot. She ran through the slush and snow, oblivious to everything—her aching lungs, the bitter cold, her wet feet—except her need to find Graham. She finally reached The Bridal Aisle, only to find the tiny bus shelter near the road deserted.
Tears burned behind her lids, despite the fact that the rest of her was freezing. Graham was gone. There would be no fairy tale second chance in this beautiful fairy tale town.
Fearing the worst but needing to be absolutely sure, she threw open the door to the bridal shop, which was still open at four p.m. on Christmas Eve.
“Did—the—bus—leave?” she asked between gasps. Two women were dressing a mannequin in the middle of the store. The younger woman, who wore her dark hair pulled back in a ponytail, took her gently by the arm and led her to a cushioned chair.
“My name’s Meg, one of the owners. I’m afraid you just missed the bus.”
Of course she had. Because she’d hesitated. Because she’d been afraid.
“You walked from the hotel without a coat or shoes? Oh my Lord,” said a very polished woman in a beige suit, who came out from the back room and introduced herself as Alex.
Her astute gaze swept quickly over Grace’s state of dishevelment. “Meg, honey, you still have that Crown Royal from the mayor’s daughter’s wedding in the back?” Then she left to fetch it.
The women sat down with Grace. They made her take off her wet socks and slippers and gave her tea, shortbread cookies, and a throw for her lap. And they listened to her story. Turned out Meg was the ER doctor’s wife, and Alex was the cop’s. Small world. Or at least, small town.
“You may have a bus to catch tomorrow morning,” Alex said, “but you’re not staying alone until then. Happy hour at MacNamara’s starts at five, then we’re all going caroling. Come with us.”
Their genuine kindness touched her, but there was no way she was going to hang around people tonight, even really nice ones. “Thank you both for helping me. But I’m afraid I wouldn’t be good company.”
“Of course you won’t be,” Meg said. “That’s why you should be around other people. Besides, you have to eat dinner.”
It probably beat crying alone in her hotel room. The room where she’d made love with Graham just a few hours ago.
Tomorrow was Christmas, and she was alone. She’d survive, as she always did. But in the past thirty-six hours, everything had changed. Every part of her wanted to be with Graham.
* * *
Graham hoisted himself up into the bus and settled into a seat by the window. Not that he cared about staring out at the perfect snowy universe, but it was the only one left. A woman with black hair and glasses with faux jewels embedded in the frames was rummaging through a big satchel on her lap in the seat next to him.
The woman pulled out a big hardcover library book with a plastic book jacket—a romance novel. “Hello,” she said, extending her hand. “I’m Alethea.” Graham shook it and uttered a quick pleasantry. He got the distinct impression this woman was a talker, and that was the last thing in the world he wanted to do.
Things had happened so fast. Too bad he couldn’t blame it all on his concussion. Hitting his head, making love with his ex-wife. Okay, the circumstances were crazy and the quarters were close. Temptation was understandable, and maybe even excusable. That didn’t mean they were meant to be together.
Except he didn’t believe that. Grace, however, did, and she’d told him, in no uncertain terms. Practically escorted him onto the bus. So he should let it all go and be glad he was headed back home.
He remembered one of his mom’s favorite sayings. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice…
He’d done everything he knew how to do. He’d told her he loved her, for God’s sake. But love hadn’t been enough for her. She hadn’t trusted him—that he could change, that they could do things better this time around. What else was he supposed to do?
“Did you just ask me if you’ve done the right thing?” the woman next to him asked.
“Oh, sorry,” he said. He was so discombobulated, he was talking to himself. He needed rest. His family. Somewhere where he could calm down and get his head straight. “I—I’m a little…overheated.” Graham pulled at his coat collar. The bus heater was cranked up full blast and blowing loudly, the wipers click-clicking back and forth. The driver checked his watch. They must be waiting on someone.
Why couldn’t the damn bus get going already?
“Forgive me if I’m intruding,” the buttinsky woman said, “but you look a little upset. Can I help? I haven’t got any kids of my own, but three strapping young men consider me their adoptive mother. And they’re all around your age. I’m very intuitive. I can practically guess what’s bothering you.”
“I’m fine, ma’am,” Graham said, uttering a silent prayer that this woman would simply stick to reading her book. Or fall asleep once the bus started moving. “Just having a crazy day.”
“I bet you had to leave your sweetheart behind. I can tell by how restless you are that you don’t want to leave Mirror Lake.”
“How on earth do you know that?”
She gave a soft chuckle. “Everyone knows about the reindeer that went through your windshield. Where’s your girl?”
Geez. Small towns. “She’s not—” Maybe it was his exhaustion that made him tell her the truth. “She’s my ex-wife, and she stayed behind. And it was just a regular deer.”
“Well, that’s awful. All of it. But it sounds like you’re running away, then. That’s never a solution, dear.”
“Actually, she told me to leave. She doesn’t want to take another chance on us.”
“Why not? Did you cheat on her? My ex cheated on me, and I’d never take that stinker back.”
“No, nothing like that. Our…our baby came early. Really early. We lost him. Things were never the same after that.” He’d suddenly developed diarrhea of the mouth. Maybe the concussion had altered his personality.
“What do you wish you could tell her?”
“Oh, we’ve pretty much said it all. It’s been a few years.”
“No, I mean, if you had a chance to tell her anything right now, what would you say?”
Graham looked out the window. It was nearly dark, the little square aglow from the lights hung on a giant pine, and all the old-fashioned lampposts wound with red and green lights. A perfectly tranquil holiday scene. Too bad nothing in his life was anywhere close to tranquil. “I’d say she’s the love of my life and I can’t live without her. And she shouldn’t be afraid to take another chance on me, because I’ve changed.”
“You can still make it better.”
“No, you don’t understand. We’re divorced.”
“Is she remarried? Are you?” She reached down between them and pulled up his hand. “I don’t see a ring on your finger.” This woman was touching him. Touching his hand. These Mirror Lake people!
“Okay, folks, we found our last passenger,” the bus driver said, settling in his seat and taking a sip of steaming coffee from a travel mug. “Everyone hold tight while she boards.”
A college kid stepped on board with a single book bag, wearing headphones to shut out the world. He envied her the carefree time of life.
Grace had told him to go, so he’d gone. Why did that feel so…wrong?
Now his seatmate was shaking his wrist. “What’s your name?” she asked.
“Graham,” he said.
“Well, Graham, sounds like you two had a rocky start, and a bad thing happened. But that you’ve somehow managed to reconnect.”
“It was a mistake,” he said. “We got…carried away.”
She laughed. Laughed. “Do you still love her?” Alethea asked.
“I’ll always love her,” Graham said without hesitation.
“Well, when you imagine your life, is it better or worse without her?”
The loud whoosh of the hydraulic doors clattering shut punctuated her question, but before Grant could blink, the driver rolled the wheel and pulled out of the bus stop.
Grant thought about this morning, how he’d awakened tangled up with Grace, her sweet-smelling hair against his cheek, her familiar body curved into his. How perfect that had been, how peaceful. How right, and he could swear she’d felt it too.
Something kept tugging at him. When they’d been arguing and she’d been standing by the window, Grace had looked frightened.
He’d never been very good at reading between the lines. And Grace was a complicated woman. Maybe too complex for a face-value kind of guy like him.
But maybe he’d be frightened to take a chance too, if the people who were supposed to love him the most—his parents—had never showed him unconditional love. Grace’s parents had moved on, built new lives, and left her behind. Why would she believe him to be any different?
He slumped down a little in his seat and shoved his hands hard into his jacket pockets. His right hand hit an edge of cardboard.
It was the lottery ticket from the gas station that he’d bought at the beginning of their trip.
Once upon a time, they hadn’t been afraid to take a chance with each other. But life had gotten hard and they’d both made mistakes.
Now, on Christmas Eve, fate was dangling a second chance right in front of him. He could show Grace what unconditional love was. He understood her terror and her fright, but he believed their love could overcome that. How to make her believe it too?
Suddenly, an idea hit him. All he had to do was be a little crazy. A little out of the box. Not his usual forte for sure.
His seat partner was smiling at him. “True love always finds a way,” she said solemnly, shaking a finger for emphasis. “Especially at Christmas.”
Graham looked around at the passengers. Many were reading or scrolling through their phones—college-aged kids, grandmas, middle-aged men. A man had pulled a baseball cap down over his face and was snoring softly. A young woman was trying to soothe her crying baby.
He didn’t belong here, on this bus; he felt that clear through his bones. Nothing in his life was right without Grace. He just needed to summon the courage to do something about it.
Graham stood up, energized by a sudden burst of adrenaline coursing through his body, along with equal bursts of terror and bravado. “Stop the bus!” he shouted.
The passengers hushed their conversations. Even the baby stopped crying. The driver checked him out in the big mirror. “Sit down, son. You have too much to drink before you got on board?”
Graham walked forward, clutching the silver metal poles in the center aisle.
“You don’t understand. Please stop. I need to get off.”
“I’m not permitted to let out any passengers except at a designated stop. You’re going to have to sit down, buddy.”
He was officially causing trouble, which he’d never done before, and it was…exhilarating. “Please…it…it’s Christmas. I have to go back.”
“Oh, come on, Ed,” Alethea said. “We’re just ten minutes out. Let the guy go after his sweetheart.”
The driver’s eyes narrowed in the mirror. “No stops, Alethea. Not even for you. I can’t go turning the bus around when I’m on a tight holiday schedule like this.”
“Hey, come on,” a woman from across the aisle said. “It’s Christmas. You heard her, he has a sweetheart.”
“Yeah,” said a father with a toddler on his lap. “C’mon. It’s Christmas.”
Graham rummaged through his pockets. “I can pay you a hundred bucks.”
Ralph braked, threw the bus in park, and swiveled around in his seat. “Where do you need dropped off at?”
“The bar—I forget the name. The one tourists don’t know about.”
“Take him to MacNamara’s,” Alethea said.
“I’ll do it,” the driver said, “if he’ll buy everyone a drink.”
“Fine. Anything,” Graham said, handing over all his cash. Now he was finally getting somewhere. If only Grace would have him back.