Chapter 15
Toby
What do you do when you spend practically your whole life dreaming of something…
And then the dream comes true?
People always spend all their focus on the dream. On getting that thing they want above everything else. No one ever talks about what happens when you get it.
Maybe because it’s assumed you just live happily ever after. The end.
But it’s not the end.
It’s the beginning of something new.
I spent over ten years pining for Archer, first in secret, then from afar. I never actually thought about what it would be like to have him because I never thought I would.
But then he kissed me under the mistletoe.
Best kiss of my life.
The entire way to Bab’s the next morning, I thought maybe it had all been a literal dream, that I’d walk into the kitchen and he’d be there scowling and hurling insults.
But he flirted. Fed me a cream puff.
God, he is good at flirting. The butterflies in my stomach were still bouncing around.
I couldn’t believe the man I’d been in love with half my life was looking at me the way I always wished. My head was whirling, trying to merge my dream and reality.
That had to be the only explanation.
The sole reason that, when I opened my mouth, a whole lot of imprudent, foolish words fell out.
Because what was I thinking, saying I couldn’t change my whole life for one kiss?
Yes, I could! I wanted to.
It wasn’t just one kiss anyway. It was everything. My dream served up on a silver platter.
Hell, even when the foolery tumbled right from my lips, Archer doubled down and didn’t retaliate, proving he really had learned from our past.
“I guess it wasn’t just a kiss to me.”
Groaning, I leaned over the counter to press my forehead to the cool countertop. “Stupid,” I scolded myself.
“Toby? What on earth are you doing?” Mom asked on her way into the kitchen.
Teacup followed right behind her, the little bells on her sweater jingling with every step she took. She stopped long enough to sniff my pant leg and then continued on after Mom, a hopeful look on her face.
“Do you want a snack?” Mom asked her, and all the bells on her sweater rang anew.
I turned as she grabbed a snowman cookie jar off the counter and reached in to pull out a small dog treat. “Here you go,” she cooed, handing it over.
Teacup took the treat and ran into the living room where she lay down on the oversized red dog bed with candy canes all over it.
“Did something happen at the clinic today?” she asked.
“No,” I replied. Snatching a Christmas tree-shaped cookie off the platter on the counter and biting off the star on the top. “Everything at the clinic is good.”
After finishing the gingerbread gazebo this morning, I put in a full day at the clinic—well, a full day for my father’s clinic. I was still trying to get used to the lighter hours. I barely knew what to do with myself, completely unaccustomed to getting off before dinner.
Everything is different here.
But not in a bad way, so what the heck was my problem?
I crunched through half the cookie while Mom pulled two mugs decorated with Christmas wreaths and red-ribbon handles out of the cabinet and then a container of hot cocoa mix.
“Don’t forget the marshmallows,” I said, chomping on the rest of the cookie.
What? I was eating my feelings.
She added extra marshmallows to my mug, along with a chocolate-dipped peppermint stick for stirring, and handed it over, the warmth of the ceramic in my hands making me sigh.
“Sit,” she invited, pointing to a stool beside the one she sat on at the island.
I sat, plopping my chin in my hand while absentmindedly stirring the peppermint stick into the hot cocoa.
“What’s bothering you, Toby?”
“I messed up.”
“Is it something that can be fixed?” she asked.
“I said something I shouldn’t have. Something I didn’t really even mean…” I trailed off and sighed. “You can’t really take back words.”
“No. But you can apologize for them. Did you do that?”
“Not yet,” I murmured, wrapping both hands around the mug. I should have done it the minute we were finished at Bab’s. By then, I’d been running late for work and used it as an excuse to rush away. I’d made him promise we’d talk, and then I was the one who put it off.
What is wrong with me?
“Honey, is this about Archer?”
My eyes shot up to hers. “How did you know that?”
“Bab called me earlier.”
I let out a long, low groan.
“Don’t be so dramatic,” Mom chastised with a laugh.
“My mother is gossiping about me.”
“It’s only gossip if it’s not the truth.”
“Mooommm…”
“Are you saying that there is nothing between you and Archer?” she questioned.
“No.” I was quick to deny. “That’s not what—” Wait.
I eyed her skeptically as she sipped her hot cocoa like some kind of Christmas angel. “Why don’t you seem surprised there could be anything at all between me and Archer?”
She laughed. Laughed at her only son. “As if anyone in this entire town would be surprised to learn of anything between you and Archer.”
That’s exactly what Bab had said this morning.
Scowling, I tried to make my voice firm. “Mom. I’m not talking about the way we argue.”
Mom’s eyes twinkled. “I’m not either.”
Shocked and frankly a little embarrassed, I grabbed the cocoa to take a fortifying sip. The chocolate was comforting, and the peppermint added a little bit of bite.
“But really, only two people with very strong feelings could argue like that,” she mused.
I nearly choked. “Hate is a strong emotion!”
Completely calm, she sipped her drink. “Do you hate Archer, Toby?”
“Of course not!”
She didn’t bother to point out that we’d just come full circle. I mean, it was glaringly obvious. I went back to groaning with my forehead on the counter.
“Why don’t you tell me what happened?”
“He kissed me.”
“Ooooh.” She tutted. “How was it?”
I sighed. “Better than I ever imagined.”
“So what’s got you eating copious amounts of sugar and groaning in my kitchen like the world is ending?”
“Have you ever dreamed of something for so long and suddenly it came true?” I asked.
“Ahh,” she said, a knowing hum in her voice.
I shot up. “What’s ahh?”
“It can be very scary to suddenly have something so important.”
“You think I’m scared?” I asked.
“Maybe not scared but overwhelmed. You spent a long time loving Archer from afar. Of course it’s going to be an adjustment to love him up close.”
Oh, I liked the sound of that. Love him up close. But also… “You really knew I was in love with Archer all this time?”
She smiled. “Of course.”
“How?” I demanded.
“A mother always knows.”
Ugh, mother wisdom. “But you never said anything.”
“You weren’t ready to talk about it.”
“I always was,” I refuted. “It was him who wasn’t.”
Her head tilted to the side. “Are you sure?”
My immediate reaction was to argue. Of course I’m sure! It was all Archer. He rejected me!
But with this morning so fresh in my mind, it was hard not to see that for the fabrication it was.
In truth, I spent the last ten years blaming Archer for pushing me away, but I was the one who’d left town and never came back. Yeah, okay, I came back a few times (not at Christmas), but I avoided him and Hodge Farm like the plague.
Maybe it wasn’t all Archer’s fault but mine too.
Maybe I’d been so hurt all those years ago, not just because he rejected me but because, deep down, I knew he was probably right to do it.
“We hadn’t been ready,” I whispered to myself.
Mom made a humming sound. “You were both very young.”
“But I knew what I wanted.”
“But he wasn’t all you wanted.” Mom’s tone was gentle. “You wanted to be a veterinarian. You wanted to see a place outside of Winterbury. And Archer…” Her voice faded.
“What about Archer?” I said, wanting her to keep going.
“That boy has a lot of responsibility on his shoulders. Always has. And when his father got sick, it was that much more on him. He’s a good man. A hard-working man. And he’s sacrificed a lot in his young life to make sure the farm is successful and also contributes to the town.”
“I thought he was straight,” I murmured.
She giggled. “I think gender is just an afterthought when it comes to what is between you two.”
I looked up. My parents had always known I was gay, and they always accepted me, but this was the first time I’d ever really talked about relationships with my mom. “Really?”
“I believe you two have the kind of true love the mistletoe was made for.”
“When he kissed me,” I confessed, “it was under the mistletoe.”
“Then what are you so worried about?” she admonished. “You know what happens when true love kisses under the Winterbury mistletoe.”
“He wants me to quit my job and move back here,” I said.
“That’s a big leap of faith after just one kiss,” she allowed.
“It wasn’t just one kiss,” I refuted instantly, the stark denial basically like a boomerang coming back to slap me in the forehead.
Apparently, it wasn’t just a kiss to me either.
I stood abruptly, the stool scraping against the floor. “I have to apologize. I need to see Archer.”
“Now?”
“Yes, now.” I was insistent. I couldn’t let him think for one more second that our kiss wasn’t everything. That I’d just been scared.
“But the auction starts soon,” Mom protested. “You have to bring the gingerbread.”
I glanced at the clock, restless and suddenly feeling caged. I couldn’t drive out to the farm now. I wouldn’t even get there before he was already on his way to the bistro.
But I couldn’t just do nothing. I had to do something.
“Why didn’t anyone tell me it was hot cocoa time?” Dad said, walking into the kitchen and eyeing our mugs.
“I was having a talk with Toby, George,” Mom said, standing. “But I’ll make you some now.”
And just like that, I knew what I needed to do. After all, an apology was only as good as the actions that backed it up.
“Dad, can we talk?”
Dad’s eyebrows arched up his forehead. “Of course, son. What’s on your mind?”