Chapter 14 #2
Of course, he’d seen it. She had no choice but to tell the truth. “It might’ve been an invitation to the Christmas open house.”
“And she pulled it when she saw me?”
“Yes.”
His features shuttered, and he went back to the mantel.
“I don’t care about a stupid party.”
“Yeah, Fee. You do. It’s the whole reason you moved here.”
“Well, it’s not more important than you and Cody.”
“Okay. But now you get why I’m not so excited about moving back here.”
She’d just experienced it, so of course, she got what he was saying. “I’m not sure that should keep you away from your family, though. You’re not friends with anyone in the club anymore, and I think people will come to see you for the man you are.”
“Maybe.” He didn’t sound convinced.
He was being his usual stubborn self. “What happens when your brothers start settling down?”
He glanced over his shoulder, eyebrows raised.
“What? At some point, they’re going to get married and have kids. You’ll want to be here for that, right?”
“We’re not built like that.”
“Like what?”
“The whole domesticity thing. That’s just not who we are.”
She’d heard this nonsense before. If he was still spewing it after twelve years, then there was no point in discussing it.
She focused on the trio of brass stocking holders, pulling them out of a shopping bag and placing them on the mantel.
“Where should we put the tree?” In the corner of the room, sunlight flooded in from adjacent windows. “Maybe there?”
“Sure. Let’s take Cody to the Merry Bright farm this weekend. He can help us chop one down.”
“He’ll love it.” Happiness rushed through her. “I’ve always wanted to do that.”
“Didn’t you have a tree growing up?” he asked.
“My mom kept one in a box under the bed. And my dad always grabbed one from the lot on his way home Christmas Eve.”
“Why’d he wait so long to get one? They were cheaper?”
“They were free. For most of the residents of Wild Wolff Village, those are just vacation homes. They pay an annual fee that covers a full-time concierge who takes care of everything for them—”
“That’s your mom, right?”
She nodded. “Before they show up, they fill out a form to stock their wine cellars, refrigerators, whatever, and around the holidays, they can order a Christmas tree and all the decorations. The team will even go in and set it all up.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” he asked.
“Right? Anyhow, they always get extra trees in case guests come into town at the last minute, and my dad just charms the guy who runs the lot on his way home. Everyone loves my dad, you know? He gets all kinds of gifts.”
“Did you ever ask if you could cut one down instead?”
“Sure, but it’s expensive, and neither of my parents could spend that kind of money for something we’d toss out in a week. I don’t blame them. It wasn’t that big a deal.”
“They didn’t listen to you. That’s the point. It’s not about shelling out cash for a tree. It’s about giving your kid an experience. I’ll bet they spend that much to go out to dinner, right? Or on drinks at the bar. Why not give their daughter the gift of a magical Christmas?”
He didn’t know it, but he’d plugged in the connection between her heart and her mind.
Because she’d had those sentiments as a child, but she’d never really allowed them to take form.
If she had, she’d have wished for more—demanded it—and that would only have driven her parents further away.
So she’d taken whatever she could get and stuffed down her feelings.
“I think I know why I liked you so much.”
His gaze jerked over to her.
“Every time my parents couldn’t be bothered to look at the picture I’d drawn or take off work for the science fair to see my project, it made me feel like I was a burden.
And now that we’re talking about it, I remember showing my mom the Merry Farms website.
” It was covered with photos of happy families on a hayride and kids drinking cocoa, wearing colorful knit hats and gloves.
“When she saw the prices, she rolled her eyes and said it was a ‘racket,’ and I remember shriveling up inside.”
“She’s no fun, but what’s that got to do with me?”
“You listened. You blew off Leia Collins to save me from a raccoon.” She grinned at their shared joke, but it was so true. “And with you, I can feel myself unfurling.”
“Unfurling?”
She laughed, and it felt so good. “There’s no better word to describe it, so I’m standing by it. I don’t shrivel when I’m with you. I unfurl.”
“And with Matt?”
“Oh.” Well, that one was obvious. “With him, I stayed neatly in the box.”
“He didn’t want to see your science projects, either?”
Her gaze dropped to her hands, and she examined the ring she was now stuck with since lying to the judge.
“Our project was building a life together, you know? We looked at houses and couches and vacation packages.” Wait a minute.
A sharp memory hit her. She could smell the lavender as if she held it in her hands.
“Actually, I used to make soap.” She watched him carefully to see if he’d look at her the same way Matt did, when he’d wait for her to finish talking before redirecting her to a topic that mattered to him. “It was a fun little hobby.”
“And you stopped?” Jude asked.
“I did, yeah. But, I mean, he was right. We had a busy life, and it didn’t fit.”
“For him or for you?”
“Good question.” She smiled. “He thought it was a waste of time since you can find handmade, small-batch soaps everywhere you go. There’s nothing different about mine.”
“Is that true?”
“Not really. I created my own scents.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Explain.”
The way she’d caught his attention only confirmed that she did have a unique product. “Okay, so it all started with my cookie-cutter collection.”
He folded his arms across his chest, the hammer dangling. “A collection?”
“That’s right.” She laughed, not even slightly embarrassed.
“A couple of times a year, I make homemade playdough for my kids. It started out as a holiday thing, you know, making ornaments or hearts. But then, on vacation at the beach, I found really cute seahorse and shell shapes. After that, I started noticing them everywhere, and it became a whole obsession. Anyhow, one day, it occurred to me that I could do the same thing with soap. Can you imagine a powder room in Calamity with soap in the shape of a moose? How cute would that be?”
“Very.”
“I started playing with essential oils and making scented soap.”
“What does the moose smell like?”
“It’s pine and cinnamon. I have a flirty line, too, with lips and hearts and high heels. I use sexy perfume for those.”
“That sounds like a good idea.”
“I thought so, but was it the best use of my time? Because we wanted to buy a house and save money for our honeymoon, and all that stuff, so working at a daycare in the summer and tutoring after school made a lot more sense.”
“That’s bullshit.” He stepped around the boxes. “Where’re the molds and essential oils?”
“Matt put them in the attic.”
He set the hammer down and started off.
“Jude, wait.” She laughed. “I’m not making soap right now. I’m your nanny, remember?”
“You’re making holiday soaps. That’s what I want for Christmas. A bar of moose soap.”
A flash of sunlight glinting off metal drew their attention as a car pulled into the driveway. “They’re here. Let’s put the bags away so Cody doesn’t see the mess.” She couldn’t give him magic with store-bought boxes and receipts lying around.
Jude headed to the bottom of the stairs and called, “Ava’s here.” When he came back to the fireplace, instead of cleaning, he cupped her elbows. “Just so we’re clear, you’re not a burden, and there’s nothing sexier than you unfurling.”
“Really?”
“Fuck, yeah. You know, the night you ran from your wedding, you said you weren’t ready to talk to anyone, that you needed to process everything on your own.
” A car door slammed, and he collected the boxes and stomped on them with his boot.
“But it’s probably more that you don’t want to drive people away.
As long as you’re fun and sweet and easy to be around, they’ll stay. ”
His words hit the bull’s-eye, sending a jolt that straightened her spine. “I think you’re right about that.” He’d nailed that one.
He carried the boxes into the kitchen and tossed them in the garage.
On his way back, he said, “I get that you don’t have the most supportive parents, but you have a lot of people who love you.
If someone pulls away because you ask for what you need, then they’re not for you.
” He set the hammer in the toolbox and locked it up.
“The right people will be honored to be there for you.”
“Hello. We’re here.” Ava came into the house, handing Jude a stack of pizza boxes.
But Finlay was still stuck on what he’d said. Honored to be there for you.
She knew it was true because that was how she felt when Eloise lost her husband, and Finlay put together a meal chart for their friends and family.
And when Willa broke her ankle, Finlay didn’t think twice about taking a few days off to fly to New York and help her. She’d wanted to do it. Jude was right.
I felt honored to be the friend who got to do that for her.
“Wow, look at this place,” Ava said.
“I know, right?” It looked like a family had lived there for years, and Finlay loved it. “It’s all Gunnar.”
Ava cocked her head, confused.
“The couch, the TV…” Finlay gestured to the staircase. “The beds and dressers. Pretty much everything you see, the guys brought over.”
“They did that?” Ava’s smile was filled with affection. “That’s so sweet.” She stepped back to reveal Cody, who stood behind her. “And look who I brought with me.”
“Yay. Come on in, sweetie.” Finlay headed for him as Ava unzipped his coat and tugged it off his shoulders.
The boy’s gaze roamed the room. “Is this your house?”
“It is. And while your grandpa’s with the doctor, you and Jude are going to live here with me. Does that sound good?”
“I get to stay here?” His eyes widened in marvel. “With you?”