Chapter Nine
Vaughn
The scarf was coming right along. Bridger suggested I just use one stitch and keep it narrow enough to make counting easy.
But I loved the color. It was a yarn that went from dark blue all the way to a creamy off-white and then back again, including all the gorgeous shades from my snow globe.
I liked that I didn’t have to pick out all the colors because they were there for me and that it was so soft, I kept putting the skeins up to my cheeks just to feel the softness.
It would be the final gift, for Christmas Eve.
If all went well, I planned to Secret Santa the heck out of my Secret Santa.
Still unsure about how much Christmas I could take, I was also unwilling to not let Gunnar enjoy it, so the best date I could come up with was the European-style Christmas market not far from our offices.
We agreed to meet in the lobby at the end of the business day, since neither of our homes were closer than our planned destination, which helped with having to decide what to wear for our very first date as well.
The business casual I generally wore would do fine.
Gunnar wore some very nice suits, I’d had opportunity to notice lately, but my clients would probably be put off if I did.
Being approachable mattered in the counseling business.
After a long day of listening to people whose holiday experiences were anything but jolly, I was wrung out and feared I was too tired to be much good to anyone and almost texted Gunnar to postpone the date. In fact, I had my phone in my hand when it buzzed with a notification.
Running a few minutes late, but I’ll be there! Don’t go without me.
As if I could go on a date, without the date?
No more than I could say what I’d thought would be the more responsible thing.
That I’d had a rough day and was exhausted.
Instead, I stepped into the men’s room and splashed water on my face before patting it dry and grabbing my black leather jacket.
The sweater I’d worn to work was red, my slacks charcoal gray, and my low boots a matte black.
With my dark hair, I thought the colors looked decent and hoped Gunnar would think so too.
I glanced at my phone and startled. I hadn’t replied.
Quickly, I typed, Just heading down myself. I won’t leave without you. Promise.
When I got down to the lobby, I took a seat on one of the benches along the walls and watched people streaming out of the elevators for about ten minutes.
As each door slid open, I tensed, ready to stand up and greet my date, only to sag back in disappointment.
I told myself that I was way too wound up for a first date, but it felt as if we’d known one another longer than we had, which was hardly at all.
My emotions had been shut down for two years, my heart guarded against pain.
So why did this little blow past the walls as if they didn’t exist?
It wasn’t like he was the first person—male or female—to try to connect with me in those months.
He was just the first one who made me think it might be possible to be happy again.
I’d been collecting Secret Santa gifts for him as well, since I learned who he was, and was laying out the strategy for delivering them.
Hudson had been willing to share his likes with me, and I had a box in my trunk filled with small, adorable things.
Not necessarily “little” but fun or funny.
The scarf would be the one thing I hoped he’d appreciate.
I had been crocheting, pulling out my mistakes, crocheting again, and the only limit on the length would be how far I could get before Christmas Eve.
I’d bought twice the amount Bridger recommended with the idea I might mess something up, so there would be no running out of yarn.
“I’m finally here!” Gunnar stood in front of me, grinning. “I almost missed you over here by the wall like that.”
“Oh, sorry. I’ve been watching the elevator, but I guess I got lost in thought. You look very nice.” He had changed from his suit to body-hugging jeans and a thin, tight cashmere sweater in hunter green.
“Thanks, so do you. This is my new Christmas sweater. I was starting to think I wouldn’t have anywhere special to wear it.” He gave a little turn. “It’s very soft.” Extending his arm toward me, he said, “Feel.”
I reached out and skated my fingers down his forearm. “Very nice. I’m afraid mine is just cotton.”
“But it’s a good color on you and the weave is nice.”
“Thank you! I didn’t get to change, so I’m glad you like it. Ready to go? Can I help you on with your jacket?”
“Thank you.” He handed it to me and turned so I could bring it up his arms. “It’s a vintage bomber from the 80s. I like thrifting, do you?”
“I don’t know. But I’d be willing to try if you can find things like this. It is in really good shape for being forty years old.”
We headed out the door and turned right.
The Christmas market lay a few blocks down in the small greenspace surrounded by old apartment buildings with storefronts on the first floor.
Decorations were everywhere. Greenery and Christmas trees and jingle bells and bows.
Stockings, candy canes, all sorts of colored lights.
When we emerged into the open area, I sucked in a breath, expecting to react badly, but Gunnar slipped his hand into mine and waited, standing by my side.
Not saying anything, and I let my breath out and relaxed.
No, I was not the Christmas fan I had been back in the day, but the surroundings, the shoppers, and people lining up with their kids to see Santa, the vendors with booths in the park, the team manning the huge smoker that looked like a huge pig looked okay to me.
“What would you like to do first?” I asked.
We decided to start on the outside and walk around, working our way to the center of the market.
Everyone was so happy, the complete opposite of the people who had sat on my office sofa all day.
In my line of work, it could be hard to remember that not everyone had dread of the holidays.
After all, who scheduled a counseling session to say they were having a great time and wanted lots more of the same?
When Bron was with me, I’d done better about compartmentalizing. Sure, my clients had a lot of trauma to deal with, but I didn’t. So I could listen to them and help them work their way through things, but when I got home, it was all happiness and love.
Now? The sadness just followed me to my lonely home.
But for the first time in two years, I was successfully shaking off the day and turning my attention to my own experience instead of just feeling swamped by the sadness, anger, and other negative emotions.
In a way, having been through something shattering, I felt like I could empathize better, but if I never stepped out of their pain, eventually I’d break.
It was the kind of thing they warned us about in the master’s program in counseling.
“Oh, look at the bear!” Gunnar picked up the most adorable small teddy wearing lederhosen and a little cap. “Isn’t he adorable. Do you make these?” he asked the vendor, an older man with a gentle demeanor and a friendly smile.
“Yes. I took it up after I retired. I’m still an amateur, though.”
“You are not.” Gunnar chatted with him for a few minutes before putting the bear down. “Can you direct me to a restroom?”
The vendor gave him directions and I said I’d wait here for him. Of course, while he was gone, I bought the bear. He wouldn’t be a Secret Santa gift because of course, there would be no secret about it, so I gifted myself the pleasure of presenting it to him when came back.
“I wasn’t hinting,” he said, but his face showed how much he wanted it.
“Of course not, but I thought you should have a souvenir of our first date.”
He tucked the bear carefully in the inside pocket of his jacket and rose on tiptoe to give me a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you. I never will forget, but he’s perfect. I love him.”
And he hadn’t said there wouldn’t be a second date. In fact, when we got back to the parking garage and I walked him to his car, we made plans for cookie decorating. Date number two.