Twenty-four hours to go.
Twenty-four hours until Misty Point’s annual tradition arrived—from the parade to the hot chocolate stands to the tree lighting.
Sometimes she considered that she had imagined it. After all, Simon had been on her mind far too much these past few months. But no, it was real. Simon had broached the subject of the tree lighting. She had replayed the conversation enough times, while staring at the ceiling, a customer who had just asked a question, or a green stoplight until only the sound of honking horns could snap her back to the present moment. No, she was certain that Simon had suggested it. She had simply nodded, agreed to it, something like that.
Regardless of the murky details no doubt brought on by a complete emotional meltdown that had rendered her unable to fully process what was happening during the conversation in the parking lot, she was certain that Simon was looking forward to seeing her. Tomorrow.
Tomorrow…Her heart began to soar, and just to keep from completely drifting away for the rest of the party, she gave the rubber band on her wrist a particularly hard snap.
She winced. Well, that was a good sign. It meant she hadn’t had to snap it in a while.
More like she had stopped thinking there was anything wrong with thinking about Simon again…
Simon. Just the name made her smile—she couldn’t help it. He wasn’t perfect, and things had certainly unraveled by the end, what with her looking for more of a commitment and him, well, looking for more space.
And space was what he’d had. And now maybe he realized that he didn’t like that space.
She plucked a truffle from the tray. She couldn’t decide which was sweeter—the chocolate or the satisfaction of knowing that Simon had missed her.
She’d wear her red cashmere Christmas scarf and her good black coat that hit just above her knee, right near her best black boots. So she might be a little cold. She’d live! She’d wear that red sweater that everyone always complimented her on, too…Just in case he suggested they go for a drink afterward. Or back to his place…
Flick. Flick.
Now Elizabeth was raising her wineglass—one of the set of ten that Bree had given Elizabeth for her bridal shower last summer—and the room fell quiet. Everyone stared at Elizabeth, positioned in front of her mantel, just to the side of the beautiful fir tree that stood proudly in the bay window, glistening with lights and silver ornaments.
Maybe Bree would get a Christmas tree after all. Maybe Simon would help her decorate it! They’d done that last year. Sort of. She’d been all excited about sharing the experience, but he’d hung one ornament and let her do the rest while he turned on the television and kicked off his socks.
Her mouth thinned. Well. No use thinking like that. He’d grown up a bit. Learned from the errors of his ways.
“I just wanted to make a toast,” Elizabeth was saying. She turned to Kate, smiling proudly, as only a best friend could. “Kate, you made my special day the wedding of my dreams, and I hope that your day is every bit as magical. You deserve it, honey.”
The guests started to clap, and even Bree felt herself begin to tear up, until she noticed Charlotte. Charlotte was not clapping. Charlotte did, however, look like she was blinking back tears, just perhaps not the happy kind.
She scooted down on the couch until she was within earshot of her cousin. Kate was starting to open gifts now, and everyone was oohing and aahing over the loot.
“Everything okay?” she asked.
“What?” Charlotte felt her cheeks heat. “Of course.”
“I liked your cocktail,” Bree offered, even though it was a little hard to drink with those cranberries floating around in it.
“The cranberries were supposed to be sugared. They were supposed to glisten, like they were covered in snow.” Charlotte looked tense.
“Well. They look pretty just as they are.” Bree patted her knee. “Are you sure everything is okay?”
“Of course, it’s my sister’s bridal shower,” Charlotte replied, turning away.
Bree sank back in the couch. Something told her there was a lot more going on than Charlotte was saying. About the shower. And about a whole lot more.
* * *
She had forgotten to call Greg. Imagine that, a mother had clear forgotten to call and check on her child. Whom she had left with a man who seemed to know nothing about babies.
What kind of parent did that make her? One night off duty, and it was like she was single again, without a care in the world!
Charlotte’s hand gripped the steering wheel as she hovered five miles over the speed limit, hugging the winding roads back to the Frost house.
It was the shower. And Kate’s hints about finding a date. And Elizabeth’s speech. And those damn cranberries.
She should have been the one to tap on her glass, make a toast. And she’d considered it. She’d thought she might stand, say something, but then her mind had gone blank and all she could think about was the drink. Her lone contribution to the event.
And then her sister was opening gifts. And then…the moment was lost.
Elizabeth would probably be chosen as maid of honor, and really, Charlotte just needed to accept that. Elizabeth had stood by Kate when Charlotte had failed her. And now Kate and Elizabeth were going to be sisters-in-law.
Kate hadn’t seemed disappointed by Charlotte’s lack of toast, or by the fact that she hadn’t hosted the shower. Had she preferred it this way, that Charlotte take a backseat, hover in the background, where she couldn’t make any more trouble?
Tears wetted her eyes, but she didn’t cry. She was on a mission. To get home. To see her baby. To get her life back under control again.
The snow was picking up, and she flicked on her windshield wipers, grateful when the iron gates appeared just ahead.
She practically ran across the cobblestone path to the back door she now preferred to use, saying a silent prayer that the reason Greg had never called was because everything was under control.
She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Marlene in the kitchen, making herself a cup of tea.
“Oh thank God,” she said, and caught the glimmer of amusement in Marlene’s eye. “Is…everything okay?”
“More than okay, I should say,” Marlene said with a slow smile. “Audrey is sound asleep. She woke up about twenty minutes ago, and I gave her a quick change before she dozed off again.”
“And Greg?” Charlotte frowned.
“I think your little girl won him over,” Marlene said. “And wore him out. He’s been asleep for hours, started snoring in front of the television. I didn’t have the heart to wake him.”
Charlotte could barely believe what she was hearing. “So…it went well. He didn’t mind?”
Marlene took a sip from her mug. “I think he was a little uncertain at first, but if you ask me, I think he enjoyed himself.”
“Well, good!” Charlotte still couldn’t wrap her head around it. Greg had seemed so skittish around Audrey. Competent, yes. But comfortable? No.
“Did you have a good night?” Marlene asked as she slid a plate of cookies over to Charlotte.
Charlotte pushed them away and unwrapped her scarf. “I did have a good night,” she said, though she wasn’t sure that was entirely true.