Chapter 7 #2
“I don’t know why you would,” Reese said after reading the text exchange.
“Mauve, please, just let yourself be happy. Enjoy every moment, not like they’re fleeting but like you’re building something that lasts.
You’ll be so in love with each other by the end of December, you’ll be ready to make some hard decisions. Both of you.”
Mauve closed her eyes for a moment, an image of Jason on the floor with Ollie playing in her mind. When she opened them, Reese was watching her, a concerned glimmer in her pretty eyes.
“Am I going to be okay?” Mauve asked, teary again.
Reese smiled. “Yes, you’re going to be okay. Trust me.”
Trust. That was all Mauve could do at this point. Trust herself. Trust Jason.
And wear something warm for their outing.
Mauve stood at her front window in a cream cable-knit sweater and jeans, her hair down, parka and mittens already laid out on the bench by the door.
When she saw Jason’s headlights approaching, she pulled on her parka and stepped out onto the porch, stomach fluttering like a school girl going to her first dance.
He climbed out of his car, as she came down the steps, wearing a navy wool peacoat and a gray scarf wound loosely around his neck and a dark knit hat pulled down over his ears. A movie star, she thought. He looks like a movie star.
At the bottom of the stairs he kissed her, his cold nose brushing her cheek.
“Hello, beautiful,” Jason said.
“Hello, yourself.”
He took her gloved hand and opened the passenger car door for her with a little flourish. “Your chariot awaits.”
“Where are we going?” she asked as he took his place behind the wheel.
“It’s a surprise.” Jason grinned, looking about eight years old for a moment. “You’ll never guess it, so don’t bother trying.”
“How intriguing.”
The roads were freshly plowed and salted, with snowbanks high on either side. He turned down Maple Street, then to Rabbit Run Road. Were they heading toward the Hayes family farm?
“Are we going to a cookie decorating night at Grace and Walter’s?” Mauve had heard about the epic cookie nights from Reese. They sounded like sticky chaos. She’d love to go to one, although it wasn’t exactly romantic.
“No, we are not decorating cookies.”
“Did you ever participate when you were a kid? At your aunt’s, I mean.”
“Sure. The tradition started when we were kids. My mom and Aunt Grace used to team up back then. Between my four cousins and Roan and me, it was always a scene. Can you imagine six little boys, all fighting over the red frosting?”
“Who was the best?” Mauve asked.
“Strangely enough, me. I had a knack for precision. The others were too impatient. And they kept eating the cookies before they were finished.”
“That just sounds like so much fun.”
“Did your mom bake cookies at the holidays?” Jason asked.
“She did, yeah. But I don’t remember it ever being an event. My sister and I might have decorated a few gingerbread men every year, but the memories aren’t vivid.”
He was quiet for a moment before saying, “It kind of breaks my heart.”
“What does?”
“Your tone. When you talk about family. Reminds me of myself when I talk about my mom.”
“The Hayes clan is hard to compete with,” Mauve said. “Maybe I over-romanticize it, but I’d love to be part of a big, messy family.”
“We are messy, that’s for sure.”
“What was your mom like?” Mauve asked.
“She was an angel. Sweet. Patient. Super funny. Not only did I love to make her laugh, I lived to make her laugh. She worked full time as a teacher, so she relied on Aunt Grace more often than she liked. She was proud about things. She aimed for independence, but Aunt Grace always wore her down. She’d tell her that we were family and family is there when you need them. ”
“It’s so good Grace was there for your mom. Teaching can be so very time-consuming.”
“True, but Mom still found time on the weekends and summer break to work at the country store. This was before Max bought it, obviously. My mom loved working there, even though she didn’t make much money.
She knew everyone who came in and could remember details about each of them.
She’d ask after someone’s sick mother or how the job hunt was going or whatever they’d mentioned to her the last time they were in the store.
Everyone, and I mean everyone, wanted to talk to her.
Bear their souls. She was a great listener. ”
“Were she and Grace close?”
“Best friends. Grace took it really hard when we lost her. Or that’s what my cousins told me. Roan and I took off right after high school graduation.”
“That must have been so hard.”
“It was. We were both numb with grief. I can’t remember much about the years after she died. I went to college and got my acting degree and everything, but I always felt slightly removed from reality. Almost like I was playing the part of the country boy who wanted to be a Hollywood actor.”
“What got you out of it?”
“Time. Having Roan close by helped a lot too. As long as I had him, I still had part of my family. The three of us—Mom, Roan, and me—as close as we were to Uncle Walter’s family, were a team from the very beginning.
It had never occurred to Roan or me that our beautiful, funny mother wouldn’t live into old age.
She was always healthy and active. No one, including her, knew she had a heart condition.
One day she didn’t wake up. And that was it.
She was just gone. Roan and I were brokenhearted.
Still are, even though time’s lessoned the acuteness of it. ”
“Does it feel strange to be here after all the time that passed since you left?”
“You know, it did last Christmas. A bit of the prodigal son returns type of thing. But this visit feels different.”
“How come?”
“Might have something to do with the prettiest girl in town agreeing to spend time with me.”
She laughed, despite the stab of pain to her chest. “I’m sorry about the other night.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I felt like I said too much—about how much I wished you would stay or whatever it was I confessed to you like an idiot.”
He reached across the console to take her hand. “You’re not alone in this. Every day I’m with you … it seems more and more impossible that you won’t be in my life after this month.”
She nodded, her eyes stinging. “I don’t know if this is a good idea. Spending all this time together. Isn’t it just making it harder?”
“Probably. But I can’t stay away from you. Since you came out to L.A., you occupy more than your share of room in my head and my heart.”
She held her breath, unsure what he would say next.
She needn’t have bothered. His phone, connected to the car’s Bluetooth, pinged with a message. The car’s automated voice, smooth and pleasant and oblivious, read the sender’s name aloud through the speakers.
Message from Frankie Munn.
Hey, just thinking about you and wondering how it’s going out there in the wilds of Vermont. Did you kiss a cow yet?
The voice paused, with that small mechanical chime between messages.
Or just a pretty blonde?
“Um, okay, sorry about that,” Jason said.
“Does she know about me? I mean, how we’re … whatever we are.”
“She knows everything that happens in my life. So yeah.”
Mauve didn’t know how she felt about that. On one hand, it was nice that he’d obviously talked about her. On the other, their closeness brought up all kinds of issues for her. Trust issues. Insecurity issues. All the issues.
“How nice for her,” Mauve said.
“Whoa, we’re just friends,” Jason said. “We grew close working on the show together. But totally platonic, despite the tabloid fodder.”
“Yes, I know. I met her, remember?”
“She loved you,” Jason said.
They were just friends for now. But once he went back to his real life, who knew what might develop? People who spent a lot of time together at work often turned into something else. Just look at Chris and the woman he’d cheated on her with. They’d worked together too.
“Why did she ask if you’d kissed a cow?” Mauve asked, keeping her voice light.
He chuckled, shaking his head. “It’s a running joke on set that I grew up kissing cows in Vermont instead of girls. I don’t even know how it started. They’re all a bunch of idiots.”
“It’s cute, actually,” Mauve said.
The headlights swept past a stretch of dark fields and a stand of bare trees.
A minute later he turned down the long drive that led to the Hayes farmhouse.
Lanterns with small lights inside were set in the snow along both sides of the drive, running all the way to the farmhouse.
Beyond, in the distance, the windows of Grace and Walter’s house glowed amber in the dark.
“What is this?” Mauve asked, sitting forward, so delighted she forgot to be anxious and insecure.
“My uncle and aunt are trying something new to get people out to the farm during the off-season. Sleigh rides out to a gourmet picnic at the sugar shack. We’re their guinea pigs.”
“Oh my goodness, this is amazing,” Mauve said.
He parked near the porch. Grace was standing in the open doorway with a quilted shawl wrapped around her shoulders and her hands clasped in front of her, beaming at them. She lifted one hand in a little wave.
“Aunt Grace is super excited about this,” Jason said, chuckling. “Which is adorable.”
He came around to her side, opened her door, and helped her down. Grace was already moving toward them, arms out, and pulled Mauve into a hug that smelled like cinnamon.
“I’m so glad you’re here to give us feedback on the experience,” Grace said. “I can’t think of a better couple to try out our new offering.”
Couple. If only that were true.
“And my generous nephew offered to post about it on his social,” Grace said. “I’m expecting a lot more guests afterwards.”
“I’m happy to help, Aunt Grace. Think of it as thanks for always taking such good care of us when we were kids.”
“It was my pleasure to help raise you two hooligans,” Grace said. “Your mother and I had such fun with all of you when you were little. I miss her every day.”
“Thanks for telling me that,” Jason said, his voice gruff. “It’s nice to hear you talk about her.”
“Anytime you want to talk about her or anything else, I’m here,” Grace said. “But for now, take your beautiful date out to the sleigh. Dinners waiting in the hut. We have Hank to drive the sleigh,” Grace said. “They’re round behind the barn. Everything’s ready out there.”
They walked together past the farmhouse and down the cleared path that led toward the barn, their boots crunching on packed snow. The light from the lanterns showing them the way. Somewhere a dog barked once and then went quiet.
“Don’t forget to take photos,” Grace called to them from the porch.
They came around the corner of the bar and there it was.
A sleigh. A real, proper, two-horse sleigh, painted dark green with red trim, its runners gleaming in the snow.
Two enormous draft horses stood placidly in the harness, their breath rising in white plumes, bells stitched along the reins making soft jingles whenever one of them shifted.
An older man in a heavy canvas coat and a wool cap stood by the lead horse’s head, one gloved hand on the bridle. He tipped his cap to Mauve.
“Hank,” Jason said. “This is Mauve.”
“Pleased,” Hank said.
“Hank’s been with the family for decades,” Jason said.
“Thirty-two years this June,” Hank said. “I’ve loved every one of them too. But enough about me. Hop on in. Your dinner’s waiting.”
A small lantern hung from a hook at the front, swaying gently and shedding enough light that Mauve could see heavy wool blankets and a faux fur lap thrown across the bench.
She turned and looked at Jason. His expression was soft in the lantern light, half in shadow, but she could still see the warmth in his eyes. She let him hand her up.
He climbed in beside her, pulled the heavy blankets across both of their laps, and tucked the fur throw over the top.
She melted against his side to find the warm place between his arm and his ribs and settled there.
He wrapped his arm around her shoulders.
Hank climbed onto the driver’s bench in front, made a small clucking sound to the horses, and, with a soft jingle of bells and a creak of leather, the sleigh slid forward into the snow.
The barn fell away behind them as the path opened into a long, white meadow. Above, stars shone bright in the dark sky. The bells settled into a steady rhythm, matching the horses’ gait. Mauve tipped her face up to the sky and said a silent prayer.
Please, God, somehow, don’t take him from me.