Chapter Twelve
Tandy
When I finally got into bed after hours spent lost in Cookies and Holiday Tales event prep and the event itself, news awaited me. The Johnsons texted me that the pipe was fixed. I could come back home.
When I woke up, startled, I couldn’t go back to sleep. So I quietly packed up my things and decided to go home before work. Gray wasn’t on the couch, so he must have already been out for a run. I just figured I’d talk to him later today, like we always do.
Fingers still shaky, I pull my mail out of my mailbox and tuck it under my arm. I unlock the door and step inside. I’m…home.
Except it doesn’t feel like home anymore.
Something has shifted. It feels empty, devoid of warmth, devoid of life.
I crumble onto the couch, a sigh escaping my lips.
Was I expecting streams of sun filtering through my curtains to welcome me back?
It’s four in the morning, of course not.
But I didn’t expect it to feel so different.
I sort through the mail pile, and one envelope catches my attention.
A cream colored one with red ribbon with an “Operation Mistletoe Match” stamp on the front.
On the back, it has a wax seal with “MC” on it.
I wonder who it’s from? Maybe the Johnsons left me a Christmas card.
They are “Mark and Carol” after all. But this feels so fancy for them.
Unraveling the red ribbon, I break the wax seal and open the envelope. Inside is a handwritten note on paper that smells of gingerbread cookies.
Dear Tandy,
A sweet little elf has told me about you. You’ve wandered from place to place, forever seeking, yet never finding. Looking for a sense of home, perhaps? Maybe you’ve been searching for something concrete, but what if home is not a place, but a person?
A person who makes you feel safe, cherished, and loved. The one who steadies your restless heart. The one who makes you want to stay, not run away.
This Christmas, I encourage you to take a chance, my dear, to make a leap of faith. Santa isn’t the only one who delivers surprises. And a little mistletoe magic never hurt anyone.
With mistletoe kisses and a heart full of hope,
Mrs. Claus
Mrs. Claus? Really?
I scoff. It has to be some joke. If Nonna is trying to play matchmaker, I wouldn’t be surprised. Especially after the mistletoe incident.
But reading this letter, the words touch something inside me. Could Mrs. Claus, whoever she is, actually be right?
All this time, I have been running from place to place.
This town does feel like home, but even more so, it’s Grayson.
It’s not a new revelation, but maybe this time I actually admit the full truth to myself.
Instead of keeping him at arm’s length in the friend zone, what if I allow myself to say the truth?
The way his strong arms hold me, his blue eyes light up when he laughs, and the sound of his laughter.
The way he cares for me in big and small ways, making sure I eat or don’t freeze to death in Wanderer.
The way he looked at me yesterday under the mistletoe.
The way sparks coursed through my entire body when I kissed him.
And the longing I’ve felt to do it again.
Longing for more. More of Grayson. More of us. Us as more.
I let out a shaky breath, setting the letter back onto the coffee table.
It’s always been him. Grayson, my best friend, my safe haven, my home. The one man who’s been a constant in my life, and the one man I can’t imagine my life without.
But is he ready for me? Does he feel the same? I’m terrified of being left behind, being rejected, being unwanted.
Maybe he’s just as scared as I am. Scared about what will happen next. Scared about the possibility of losing what we already have.
Take a chance, my dear, make a leap of faith.
This is ridiculous. How do adults handle these kinds of situations? How do they juggle their feelings without them turning into a hurricane of emotions that threatens their very sanity?
The one person I would dare to even ask that question is Grayson. The thought of revealing my feelings to him twists my stomach into knots. The fear of rejection is too overwhelming; the stakes are too high.
Maybe I should run first. Run before I have to watch him leave. Run before I get hurt.
Leaving is what I do best anyway. Even if he reciprocated my feelings for him, that doesn’t mean we wouldn’t hurt each other in the future. I don’t even know what a healthy relationship looks like. I wouldn’t even know what to do, how to start, how to keep his love.
When things don’t work out, when he realizes I’m too much to handle, when he realizes he doesn’t want me forever, I would need to leave. So I might as well leave now.
I give in to the gnawing feeling inside me, the desire to escape. I pack the few remaining things and leave them by the door. After a few hours of sleep, I’ll leave later this morning.
Is it a cowardly move? I know it is. But Grayson’s the brave one, not me.
I drop into bed, pulling the covers over my head, trying to shut out the world. But the memories of us flood my brain. I squeeze my eyes shut, willing the tears not to fall, but they do.
Sleep doesn’t come easily because my thoughts are loud and intrusive.
And waking up feels even worse, like I’m coming out of a trance.
My body feels heavy and sluggish, my head aches, my eyes are swollen from crying, and my chest feels like it’s being crushed under a weight.
I force myself into the shower, hoping the hot water will burn these ill feelings out of me.
I grab my bags and shut the front door behind me. I don’t look back. I can’t, because if I do, I might not leave. I take a deep breath and turn the key as the engine purrs to life.
I drive down Main Street, past the bookstore and Mr. Bradford’s corner store.
Past the town square, where the tree lighting ceremony will be tonight, of all nights.
I stop right on the edge of town and type out a text message to Jane.
I can’t even message Grayson. Instead of facing him and confessing my feelings, I’m running away.
Grayson, the man who’s been there for me since the beginning. The man who sees through me more than anyone. The man I have been falling for, without even realizing it. The man I’m desperately in love with.
No, Tandy. You can’t think like this. Not now. Not when you’re leaving.
Tears roll down my cheeks, and my heart pounds so hard it feels like it’s beating its way out of my chest. My throat has a lump that’s been lodged in there since early this morning.
Before I can send the message to Jane, I throw my phone on the passenger seat.
The further I drive, the more real the hurt becomes.
The more my heart aches. The more tears that stream down my face as I grip the steering wheel tighter.
I press my foot harder against the pedal, trying to outrun the pain. But it doesn’t work.
The thought of Gray discovering my absence, without an explanation, twists like a sharp knife of regret in my gut. Crushing guilt seeps into every inch of me.
I wipe away the tears that blur my vision. It’s for the best, I tell myself.
But is it? Or is this the easy way out?
He doesn’t deserve a vanishing act.
Time seems to halt as I make a U-turn back into town. I’m done running.