Chapter 27
It’s Monday night. The fifteenth.
At a quarter till seven, I pull into my usual parking spot behind The Memory Bank and … breathe. Being only ten days before Christmas, the park is packed, though the tightness in my chest has nothing to do with facing crowds, but facing Leo. That is, if he shows.
My phone’s been silent all weekend. It’s stupid of me to think he’ll be waiting for me by the turtledoves display.
I shouldn’t expect to see his flirty grin or piercing eyes after I pushed him away.
I’m usually too much, but my actions last week were over the top.
So why am I clinging to this fragile hope?
If I learned anything over these past months, it’s that life is riddled with unknowns, but it’s up to me to keep my heart open to something new.
From being the Secret Santa to cultivating a relationship with my mom to discovering more about myself, I learned that I could face hard things even if it terrifies me.
The anniversary date of Gran’s passing was a dark taunt in the alcoves of my mind all year, but I woke this morning determined to remember her legacy rather than dwell on my missing her.
Yeah, the feelings were there—are here—but being the Secret Santa has taught me to look outward, and I can see her in everything she loved.
Today, I celebrated her life by making her favorite meals and spending time with Pap and Mom.
Pap dug out old photo albums, and we revisited memories, Mom sharing a few I’ve never heard.
With that, I kill the engine, but somehow it feels like I’m turning the ignition to my dreams with the pedal to the floor.
I have no clue what awaits me a hundred yards from here—most likely a Leo-less scene—but I’m stepping out anyway.
Browsing those albums and looking back on Gran’s full life inspired me to think ahead about my own goals and wants.
I’d rather reflect on my days and be able to say more “I trieds” than “What-ifs.” So tonight is me trying, me chasing the moment.
I make my way toward the park. Unlike last year, there’s no snow blanketing the ground.
It had all melted over the course of the week, but the cold temperatures remain.
Is it really December in Ohio if you can’t see your breath in puffy vapors?
I slide my hands into my coat pockets and snake through the throng of people.
I’ve visited this place countless times during the holidays, but the lights seem brighter, and the air’s scented with kettle corn and wonder.
Children’s squeals, the clop of hooves in the distance from a horse-drawn carriage, and the soft strains of “O Holy Night” floating through the speakers are this evening’s soundtrack.
I pass the North Pole Pavilion, complete with a grinning Santa Ned.
He spots me through the window, and I lift my hand in greeting.
I have a whole new appreciation for his role.
Fletcher called me this afternoon, telling me everything’s in place for the Secret Santa recipient reveal on the news next week.
The local news anchors plan on visiting the Springfield residence with one of those giant checks and the Silver Creek High School marching band, which will play carols.
I guess Adelaide and her husband met and fell in love during band camp in tenth grade.
How Fletcher unearthed that detail is beyond me, but I love that he went the extra mile to make the event more special.
Plus, it proves that Fletcher Thomas is a bit of a romantic, something Tilly swears by.
She accompanied him to his company Christmas dinner and, by the end of the evening, was half in love with the man.
I slow my steps.
This is it. One final curve brings me to the turtledoves, the park bench.
The towering street clock reads seven sharp.
With my pulse pounding, I ease through the foot traffic, bumping shoulders with someone and nearly tripping over a divot in the sidewalk.
The crowd clears as if they can sense the importance of this moment.
I draw in the cold air and slide my eyes shut. The surrounding sounds shift and blend into a low hum. What happens in the next ten seconds could devastate me or … not. But I need to know the answer. Slowly I lift my lashes, my heart a wild cadence.
As the world comes into focus, so does Leo.
He came.
Leo stands by Gran and Pap’s light display, wearing the same coat I mended last year.
I bite my bottom lip in response to the rising emotion.
Though my hope remains as delicate as the snowflakes now swirling around me.
We weren’t supposed to get flurries tonight, but it seems this moment is filled with the unexpected.
Though just because he showed up doesn’t guarantee his feelings haven’t dulled toward me.
He could be here only to keep his promise, not wanting me to be alone on this pivotal day. Because he’s that kind of guy.
I force my feet forward, my gaze transfixed on him. The second I’m in reach, he pulls me close, crushing me to his chest.
He breathes me in. “Man, I missed you.”
“You made it,” I say, almost in reassurance to myself that this is real. He is real.
He pulls back, eyes on my face as if memorizing every detail. “You thought I’d ghost you again?”
His incredulous tone, matched with the way his arms tighten around me, softens the rusted edges of my doubts. “When you don’t answer my calls or texts, it causes a girl to wonder.”
“I’m sorry.” His left hand abandons its home on my waist to brush a snowflake from my cheek. His stubble is longer than usual, like he hasn’t shaved in days, and my skin tingles with the urge to run a hand over his jaw. “I lost my phone somewhere in Berlin.”
Surprise lifts my brows. “You went to Amish country?” Berlin is known for Ohio’s largest Amish community.
The town’s rich culture and heritage mark it as a tourist attraction, especially during Christmastime.
There’s also a huge antique mall. Was … he looking for another Garrick?
That’s the only reason I could see him visiting.
It’s such a sweet gesture, but I would’ve told him I already checked with the antique dealers there.
“More like Berlin, Germany.”
“What?” My shocked squeak is loud enough to attract a few glances. “As in—across the Atlantic, thousands of miles away—Berlin?”
He chuckles at my high-pitched inquiry. “That would be the one.”
“Fletcher said you were out of town but neglected to say out of the country. Sheesh.”
He toys with the edge of my coat’s belt, as if he wants to reach for me again but is being patient. “It was a last-minute thing.”
“I’ve got so many questions, but I’ve been rehearsing what I’m going to say, and it’s starting to get hazy.”
He cracks a smile—and oh I missed those dimples—but I can’t get distracted.
“I’m sorry about Monday. You were right to be angry.
I offered the set without thinking because it was a knee-jerk reaction.
I’ve been impulsive like that all my life, feeling as if I had to give up things to keep the rest of the world happy.
I promised you I’d do all I could to get you the Vallerton, though I went about it the wrong way.
” I meet his soft gaze. “It’s a brutal lesson to learn, but I think I’m better for it. ”
He sweeps up my gloved hands in his bare ones. “I wasn’t angry at you. I didn’t want you to give up something you loved. That set is special to you.”
I nod. “It was.”
“After you dropped me off at the station, I let Chief Todd know I was leaving town and drove back to Sugarvale. I remembered what you said about that other antique store.”
“Alice’s Emporium?” I mentioned to Leo at the hotel that we should visit her place, though I hadn’t realized he was paying that much attention. I should’ve known better.
He nods. “I returned to see if she had a Garrick, but the shop was closed. Alice passed away two years ago.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” She was a lot like Midge but with a softer approach to life.
“Around that time, my mom called, and I explained to her about the sets. Turns out, she knows a lot of people who are into antiques. Is it a rich people’s hobby or something?”
I laugh. “Well, antiques do get expensive.”
“Anyway.” He shrugs. “She has a friend in Berlin who’s downsizing her collections. So, I bought you something.” He tugs me toward the bench, and I spot a box, my heart billowing with hope. His slow grin builds as he watches me. “Open it.”
With shaky hands, I lift the flaps. “Cinnamon bears?” Several packages of my favorite childhood candy fill the box. “Um, Leo, you didn’t need to go to foreign lands for these. They have them at Walmart.”
He steps closer with a chuckle. “Look underneath.”
After I pull the bags of bears out and set them on the bench, I see another box inside.
I work free the lid and spot it immediately.
“A Garrick! You found a Garrick!” My eyes sting as I pore over the distinct figures.
The antiquarian in me wants to inspect each piece to ensure the set’s legit, but that can wait.
What can’t wait is me launching into Leo’s arms. “Thank you.”
His hands settle on my back, and he brushes his lips to my temple. “That’s your Garrick, Greta.”
“What? How?” I rear back so fast I nearly knock Leo’s jaw. I make up for it by pressing a quick kiss to it. “My Garrick traveled abroad?”
“Long story short. My mom’s friend had a set that I flew over and got. Then I came back to the States this morning and went to New Castle.”
“And that is?”
“In Pennsylvania. Where Candace and Sal Whitman live.”
My jaw drops. “How’d you know?—”
“When you were talking with Candace Whitman in the ladies’ room, her husband was trying to sell me office equipment. He only came to SugarFest because he heard a rumor that Mrs. Langston needed new copiers. I couldn’t escape the conversation without his card.”
Ah, that’s why—when we were standing outside the hotel—Sal looked pointedly at Leo and told him, “Think about what I said.” I’d thought it was odd then, but now it makes sense.
“This afternoon, I convinced them to trade the Garrick I found with the Garrick you gave. Plus, I’ve got a state-of-the-art printer arriving Friday, so there’s that.”
I laugh even as a tear slides down my cheek.
“No one has ever done something like this for me.” I’m still wrapping my brain around it.
All week I thought he refused my calls and texts, yet he was tracking down a nativity set.
“That was a lot of trouble to go through.” Especially since he lost his phone.
I’d be terrified to be in a foreign place without having all that’s familiar at my fingertips.
He brushes away the tear and gathers me close again. “I remembered what you said.” His voice is soothing as he strokes my hair. “When a man’s in love, he’d do all he could to make her world right again.”
His words are like a slow drip into my heart, steadily filling my soul until my entire being is affected by that single sentence.
Leo crossed oceans to fix the problem I created.
He recovered the treasure I stupidly gave up.
But most importantly, he’s in love with me.
Could anything be equal to that? I wind my arms around his neck. “I can’t even say how much that means.”
He drops a kiss on my lips. “Looks like we’re even because I can’t say how much you mean to me.”
I press against him, my insides ready to explode with happiness. “Now that you brought this set, you have another one to deliver. It seems we’re both playing Santa this Christmas.” That sweet widow will be overjoyed.
“The Vallerton.” He smiles. “I plan on going tomorrow night. Would you like to meet her?”
“I would.” The wind picks up, but I can hardly feel it.
I’m cocooned in the surrealness of it all.
“And to think this started by my skewering you with an elf.” I skim my gloved fingers over my stitchwork on his coat.
It’s strange to think how little things, small decisions, can accumulate, changing the direction of your life.
And sometimes, those moments that seem to tear apart your soul can rebuild your vision.
I didn’t see how much I abandoned myself until Leo challenged me to chase what I want.
Which reminds me. “I have something for you too.” I disentangle from his embrace and reach into my pocket.
My gift seems silly compared to the enormity of his, but it’s time for me to be brave. “I promised you I’d fill this out.”
His brows lift as I hand him the folded paper. The confusion in his gaze clears as he takes in his own handwriting— Greta’s Christmas Wishlist— at the top of the page. Over a week ago, we sat in his living room, and Leo insisted on knowing what I wanted.
I wrote two words:
Leo Mathis
His eyes warm as he points to his name. “You mean this?”
“I do.” I step closer. “You told me it’s okay to speak up for what I want.” I skim my lips over the corner of his mouth. “And I want you.”
Fire burns in his gaze, and I want nothing more than to be warmed by his touch. “Likewise, Greta Carlton.” He pulls me to him and kisses me in the glow of twinkling lights.