Chapter Twenty-One
A llie’s lips were pink again, her body warmed deep into the core for more reasons than just the bath, the hot cocoa, and her seat closest to the fire. Mama was busy cooking in the kitchen and a plate of salami, cheese, grapes, nuts, honey, crackers, and chocolate was beautifully arranged on a red Christmas platter and set on the coffee table. John was hunched over the kitchen counter chopping vegetables next to her mother, something Allie’s father never did, and Sam was sound asleep on the couch with Cuppie, who snored softly.
Allie had on her softest sweatshirt and fuzzy socks, her hair freshly washed and dried, when she snuck her way into the middle of the sleeping pile on the couch. Sam lifted his arm and welcomed her in.
“You know what I realized on the beach today?” she whispered.
“Hmm?”
“You and I might seem really different, but Cuppie deals with us in the same way.”
“She knows stuff.” He chuckled, his eyes still closed.
“Are you actually awake? Or do you need to sleep more?”
“I’m awake if you’re ready to talk,” he said, stretching.
“How long have you known that John’s girlfriend is my mom?” Her voice held no anger. She just genuinely wanted to know.
He pulled himself into a sitting position, and she did the same. Cuppie gave them both a look of annoyance for waking her up. “Can I hold your hands while I tell you this?” Sam asked. “I really need for you to believe me.”
She turned and offered her hands to him.
“John was the person who told me about Goose Island.”
Allie’s eyes went to the man in the kitchen working alongside her mother. “Wait a minute. Have you met my mother before?”
He nodded.
She started to pull her hand away, but he held tighter. “So”—she started to put the pieces together—“did you know who I was when you moved in?”
“I didn’t know it was you when I signed the lease. I only knew your mother as Susie and you as Allie. The name on your lease said Allison.”
She tugged her hand away from him. “Wait a minute. You’re on Goose Island because John told you what? That there was a single girl out here living alone?”
“That’s not what happened at all. Yes, I figured it out pretty fast. But, no, I didn’t move here for you. I moved here for me and for Cuppie. We’d been searching for a place just like this: a small town near the water with neighbors who cared enough to know our names. I didn’t come here looking for a girlfriend. I didn’t even want a girlfriend.”
Allie noticed that the kitchen was suddenly empty. Her mother and John must’ve recognized the tone of the conversation and made themselves scarce.
“Here’s what I know,” he went on. “I’ve met a lot of people. I’ve dated plenty. Too many, probably. I’ve looked around enough, and I’ve never met someone like you. Ever. And yes, I knew things about you before I met you. I knew that you’d just been through some terrible losses. I knew that you were independent and smart and hardworking. I knew that you were beautiful.” He rubbed his hand through his short hair. “Look, I would never purposefully move in with someone I thought I might be interested in dating. That would be stupid.”
She relaxed. He was right. Moving in with someone you hoped to date would be a sure-fire recipe for disaster. She exhaled and placed her hand palm up on his knee. He took it, and his little grin was back.
“I’m pushing for my house to be finished as soon as possible,” he said. “There’s plenty of room for you there. But it will be your choice, okay? When the time comes.”
She nodded, a tingly feeling of relief flowing through her. He had room in his house for her?
“For now, though, I would really like to try this, here, with you.”
“Try what?” She smirked. “You’re gonna try me on and if I don’t fit, you’ll return me? Am I your new Christmas sweater?”
“You know that’s not what I’m saying.”
She did know. The whole reason for dating was to try a person on and see if they fit. But she needed him to be clear.
“I don’t want to be a secret anymore, and I don’t want you to see Joey,” he said plainly. “I don’t want you to go out with anyone but me.”
“And who will you be going out with?” She scoffed. If they were going to date each other, she wanted a commitment.
“Just you, ya dingbat.” He laughed and tried to kiss her, but she giggled and pushed him away.
“Dingbat, huh? Well, this dingbat likes to ensure that both parties are on the same page before she makes life-altering decisions.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said. “I hear you loud and clear.” He slipped off the couch and got down on one knee. Taking her other hand, he said, “Allie Westley, will you please be my girlfriend?” His eyes twinkled and she thought her heart might jump from her chest. “To clarify,” he said, “that means that I will be the sole owner of the title Allie’s boyfriend , and I am free to call myself that in public to everyone. You will not have romantic relationships with any other people, especially people named Joey. I will also commit to kissing only you and having romantic feelings only toward you. I’ll do my best to meet your wants and needs, I will treat you as my respected partner, and…what else?”
“Well, if we’re making a list, I like foot rubs.”
“I will occasionally rub your feet,” he added, taking his seat on the hearth. “But only when they’re not stinky.”
“That’s fair.” She pretended to contemplate further. “And you will not enter my room when the door is locked.”
“Of course. Unless you yell for help, in which case, I will break that damned door down.”
“Yes, I accept that term.”
“And you will make your mama’s cookies at Christmas,” he said.
“Yes, I will. And I’ll keep milk on hand to go with them.”
The back porch door opened, and her mother and John walked in. “It’s cold out there,” Susie said. “Sorry, y’all, we were trying to give you some privacy, but I couldn’t make it any longer. Plus, I’ve got to get the roast in the oven.”
“Mama, John,” Allie said, squeezing Sam’s hands. “I’d like to introduce you to my boyfriend, Sam.”
*
Christmas morning, Allie and Sam ate cinnamon rolls and opened presents. Thanks to Fred, there was something in each of their stockings. And thanks to her mother, Allie’s old stuffed bear peeked out from the top of hers. She wrapped a bottle of her best wine and tied a ribbon around the neck for John. Her mother seemed happy with him, and why would Allie wish unhappiness on anyone? Maybe it was just that simple. A new love didn’t mean the old love was diminished. Her mother could love her dad and still have room to love John. If it was true that there would never be the same love twice, what was wrong with allowing a new love in?
Sam was wearing a new black beanie Tulip had knitted just for him, and Cuppie chewed noisily on her new beef bone by the fire when the news broke in on the televised Christmas Day parade. The young man who had been rescued on Christmas Eve after a fishing trip gone wrong was recovering in a local hospital. Paul Easton, fifteen, had been fishing for sheepshead from the rocks when a rogue wave pulled him in. Using his Boy Scout survival knowledge, he inflated the Camelbak water bladder he wore like a backpack and used it as a flotation device. Searchers had been working round the clock in shifts, but it was a Goose Island local and her dog who rescued him from the water.
Happiness enveloped Allie like a warm blanket. “I can’t believe his name is Paul Easton,” she said, squeezing Sam’s knee a little too hard. “My dad’s name is Paul Westley. Am I the only one who thinks that’s strange?”
Sam, in his plaid pajama bottoms and red Gingerbread House Construction Team T-shirt, stopped before putting a bite of cinnamon roll in his mouth. “Dottie would say it’s a sign.”
“Dottie would say that God switched the flip on the names,” Allie laughed. The woman couldn’t get a phrase right if her life depended on it.
Susie and John were coming back by that day, and Allie invited everyone for ham and pickle sandwiches on the beach. She could hardly wait. Now that she had family again, she wasn’t as pent-up and anxious. She hadn’t even tapped her toe on the line between the carpet and the hardwood as she left her bedroom that morning. She felt giddy as she recognized that her compulsions were beginning to relax. Thank God. It was up and down with them depending on what was happening in her life, so she knew to appreciate the reprieve. She stared at the Christmas tree, and an overwhelming sense of peace overtook her. The lights blurred together.
Merry Christmas, Dad .
There was a moment of darkness, then the lights came back on.
“Did you see that?” Sam asked. “I think we lost power for a second.”
She leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder. “No need to check the breaker,” she said. “Everything’s fine.”
“Maybe it was Santa landing on the roof,” he said. “One of his reindeer stepped on a power line.”
“You know what?” she said, unwrapping a candy cane. “It was definitely Santa. I am absolutely positive that he exists. As a matter of fact, it had to be Santa who messed up my rental application by magically making me click male instead of female .”
“Ah,” Sam scoffed. “So, it was you. The truth finally comes out.”
“No, it wasn’t me. It was Santa .” She giggled. “The truth shall help you see.” Allie did her best Dottie impression with a candy cane poking out of her mouth.
“I think the saying is, the truth shall set you free,” Sam corrected.
“The truth shall be the key,” she declared, giggling.
“The truth is where I want to be.” His voice lowered as he moved the candy cane from her mouth and his lips near hers. “The truth is you and me.” He kissed her sweetly. “Merry Christmas, Allie.”
“Merry Christmas, Sam.”
The End