Chapter Six
REX
“I ’ve got your tea here,” Sylvie says as she places a plate with a metal teapot and a tea bag in front of Holly. “What else can I get ya?”
“I’ll get the Gingerbread Pancakes with a side of bacon, please,” I say as I hand Sylvie the menu, not taking my eyes off Holly.
“Just a bagel with cream cheese and fruit for me.” Holly hands over her menu, avoiding my eyes, as if she didn’t just drop a North Pole sized bomb right before getting her tea.
“Coming right up!” Sylvie says cheerfully as she scoops up the menus and rushes off to the next table.
“Sorry, repeat that again. You were stood up at your wedding on Christmas Day?”
“Yup,” Holly answers, dropping her tea bag into the pot.
“How long ago?” I ask, wrapping my hands around my coffee. Half of the candy cane had already melted, leaving only the hook hanging from the rim.
“Five years ago.”
“Did you like Christmas before that?”
Holly’s shoulders drop. Gone is the light and carefree woman from the shelter earlier. In its place is a sullen, sad woman, and here I am asking her to bring up what had to be her most painful memory.
Lord help me, I can’t stop.
I want to know everything about Holly Day. I want to know what I can do to make her love Christmas again. Find love again.
Wait, find love? Is that what I want? Is that what I’m ready for?
“Yes.” She takes a deep breath before she continues. “I loved Christmas growing up. I was the one that pushed for a Christmas Day wedding. I thought it would be romantic and magical.”
“What happened?”
She closes her eyes for a moment before opening them and steeling her gaze. Unshed tears fill her eyes as she speaks. “He left a note saying he was sorry, but he couldn’t get married. The pressure for a ‘perfect day’ and a ‘perfect wedding’ was too much. Last I heard, he left for Alberta and hasn’t been home since.”
“Why would he think that any of that has to be perfect?”
“I don’t know. Maybe it was me. I wanted things a certain way. I wasn’t quite a ‘bridezilla,’ but I knew what I wanted and how I wanted it done. Josh wanted a fall wedding and something small. Out of the city. I insisted on this lavish wedding with Christmas trees lining the chapel and twinkling lights everywhere.”
“It sounds beautiful.” I’m not lying when I tell her this. Lauren and I had a winter wedding. The snow fell outside the chapel windows as we exchanged vows. Mistletoe and holly were tucked with fragrant greenery on all the tables. The menu was holiday themed with festive food and desserts for all the guests to enjoy.
“It was. Sadly, we didn’t get to enjoy it. Apparently, he showed up, saw everything, and panicked.”
I reach across the table, taking her hand in mine. Her cold hand feels so small. So fragile. Much like how she looks right now. “I’m so sorry. Holly. You didn’t deserve to go through that.”
“Thanks,” she says timidly, letting me hold her hand for a moment more before withdrawing and pouring her tea into a mug. “After that, I haven’t wanted anything to do with the holiday. Or relationships.”
I bring my mug to my lips and take a sip, letting the bitterness of the coffee and sticky sweetness of the candy cane wash over my tongue. “Have you talked to him since?”
“No.” She pours some milk into her tea and takes a sip. I don’t think she’s going to say anything else for a moment until she sighs and proceeds. “He sent his friends to collect his things. Couldn’t even face me. Can you believe that? He left me to deal with all the guests, food, venue, and he didn’t even have the decency to face me to get his things from my apartment.”
“That’s horrible.” I don’t know what else to say as I sit stunned, listening to what Holly had been through. No wonder she’s been keen to avoid anything to do with the season. Even less so with relationships.
Not that I’m looking for that either.
“Yeah. Anyway, since then I haven’t celebrated the holiday. I don’t see the point in it, and I definitely don’t believe in Christmas magic.”
“I don’t blame you, but I hope you can see that there’s still joy to be had with the season.”
“Maybe for others, but not for me,” she says into her mug.
“We’ll see about that.”
“Here are your orders.” Sylvie expertly slides our plates in front of us. My mouth immediately begins to water at the smell of the large stack of gingerbread pancakes.
“Thanks, Sylvie,” I unwrap my cutlery from the paper napkin, giving her a smile as I prepare to dig in.
“That’s a lot of pancakes,” Holly says, eyeing up my breakfast.
“It is.” I pick up the little container of syrup and start pouring it over the top.
“And you’re going to eat all that?”
“I’m going to try.” I put the syrup down and start cutting into the delicious stack of holiday joy. “Why? Would you like some?”
“No,” Holly gasps before straightening and clearing her throat. “I mean, no, thank you. I’m fine with my bagel and fruit.”
“Alright. Your loss,” I say, cutting into the stack.
“Can I get you anything else?” Sylvie asks with a smirk on her face. I don’t know what’s given her that look, but she seems very pleased at whatever she thinks she saw.
“I think we’re good. Thank you, Sylvie.” I look across at Holly, who is currently pushing fruit around her bowl with her fork.
“Do you have something against pancakes, too?” I put a piece of the offending food in my mouth and close my eyes in unwavering joy, letting the warm spices and sugar wash over my tongue. I’ve always been a sucker for holiday foods, gingerbread being at the top of the list. Lauren would laugh when I would spend the whole month of December completely unable to deny any holiday treat that came my way, but refused most desserts and sweet foods the other eleven months of the year.
“Other than it’s just a stack of sugar for breakfast?” She narrows her eyes at me as I take another forkful of delicious, syrup-soaked pancake.
“Yes, other than that.”
“No, nothing against pancakes.” She puts down her fork and takes a bite of her bagel.
The rest of our breakfast is eaten in silence. Sylvie comes back to check on us once more and refills my coffee, but we’re left with an awkward silence that fills the booth like a heavy cloud.
Once we finish our meals and no longer have our food to occupy us, I wipe my mouth with the paper napkin and stand. “I’ll be right back.”
Walking over to the counter, I wave to get Sylvia’s attention.
“What can I help you with, Rex?” she asks with a smile as she walks over.
“Just the bill, please.” I pull out my wallet and glance over at Holly, who’s frantically typing on her phone.
“I could have brought it over to you. Unless your date isn’t doing well.” She raises an eyebrow as she asks.
“No, no. This isn’t a date. Holly’s car broke down yesterday, the inn was full—”
“And you thought you’d take in a stranded, beautiful woman?”
“Sylvie, you have this all wrong. I’m just helping her out. She’s also writing a blog on Candy Cane Creek, and I want to make sure she has the right experience. That’s all.”
“Mm-hmm,” she responds, handing me the bill with a gleam in her eye.
“It’s true. This isn’t a date. I have no ulterior motive. You know there isn’t any room at the Mistletoe Inn right now. What was I supposed to do? Leave her with nowhere to sleep?”
“No, of course not.” Her gaze softens. “You’re a good man, Rex. We all just want you to be happy. Especially after what happened with Lauren.”
“Which was only a year ago, remember? It’s too soon.” I thumb through my wallet and take out more than enough to cover the bill plus tip.
“It’s not—” Sylvie starts, but I cut her off.
“Thank you, Sylvie. For everything. I really appreciate it, and I know how much you and everyone in this town have been looking out for me. But please, don’t make more of this than it is.”
She takes in a deep breath and sighs. “Fine.”
“Thank you.” I nod and head back over to the table. “Ready to go?”
“Don’t we have to pay first?” Holly asks, looking past me.
“Already taken care of.”
“Rex, you can’t keep paying for things and…” She waves her hand in my direction. “Doing whatever you’re doing. I can take care of myself.”
“I know you can.” I shrug.
“And pay for my own food.”
“I’m sure you can.”
“And open my own door.” Her cheeks get pink, frustration lacing her words.
“Mm-Hmm,” I half-smile as I reach across her, grabbing my jacket and holding it open for her.
“And I can put on my own jacket,” she huffs.
“I’m sure you can.” I shake the jacket a little, letting her know I’m waiting for her to stand up and put it on.
“So then, why don’t you let me?” She stays in her seat, looking up at me defiantly.
“Because there’s a difference between ‘can’ and ‘should.’”
She scoffs but stands and turns, putting her arms into the jacket. “So, what’s next on the Christmas adventure?”
“I thought I would take you around town a bit, show you the sights a little before I need to go back and check on the dogs.” I steer her out of the diner and instead of going back to my truck, I lead her down the sidewalk.
We stroll past the town square with people setting up the booths for the Hot Cocoa Walk later today. Kids run through the workers, giggling and chasing each other while the parents try to set up. Others stand in a sectioned off area, building elaborate snowmen.
“What’s going on over there?” Holly asks, pointing at the group.
“The snowman competition. People take it very seriously. Probably the most competitive event we have. The people that enter spend days building and carving their entries.”
“Hmm.” She whips out her phone and starts typing again before snapping photos. “Have there been any other competitions already?”
“Yes. We’ve had gingerbread houses, and the Big Cookie Bake-Off.”
“Those sound intense,” she says as she holds up her camera to take another picture of the builders.
“It can be.”
“Are the prizes really big?” She places her phone in the back pocket of her jeans and turns to me.
“No,” I laugh and shake my head, rubbing my finger along my lower lip. “Mostly bragging rights and gift cards to stores in town.”
We begin walking on the path when a group of kids rush past us, one knocking into Holly by accident and sending her skidding on the snow. I reach out and grab her arm to steady her, but it only causes her to lose her balance even more.
Slamming into me, she knocks me backwards, sending me flying into the snowbank behind me. Holly lands on me with a ‘ whoosh, ’ both of us having the wind knocked out of us. Laying on top of me, with her hands braced on my chest, she looks down with wide eyes. Seeing her with her wild auburn hair and big green eyes makes me realize that I am falling. And I don’t mean in the snow.