Chapter 18
Eighteen
HOLLY
Ladies’ Room Confessions
The ladies’ room in the Everdale Falls Community Center had never been my intended destination for having an emotional crisis, but it was the only place I could think of where three hundred people wouldn’t be staring at me with knowing smiles and making comments about “what a lovely couple” Declan and I made.
I locked myself in a stall and put my head in my hands, trying to process what had just happened in the town square. I’d kissed Declan Hayes. In public. Under strategic mistletoe. In front of every person I’d known since childhood, plus their visiting relatives and probably their dogs.
And it had been amazing.
Which was precisely the problem.
The bathroom door opened with a rush of cold air, followed by the voices of several women who were clearly still discussing the evening’s entertainment.
“Did you see that kiss?” Mrs. Patterson was saying with obvious delight. “I thought poor Holly was going to melt right into the snow!”
“It was like something out of a movie,” agreed a voice I recognized as Sandra from the bakery. “So romantic! And they make such a beautiful couple.”
Beautiful couple. I stared at the bathroom stall door and tried to decide if I felt flattered or terrified by the designation. Probably both.
“I always thought Holly would end up with someone handsome,” added Sandra. “She’s got such a lovely figure, and that red dress tonight—stunning! She knows how to show off her assets.”
I looked down at my red dress, which did indeed show off my assets quite nicely.
I’d chosen it specifically because it made me feel confident and attractive, because I wanted to look good whether or not Declan noticed.
The problem was that Declan had definitely noticed, and now everyone else had noticed him noticing, and suddenly my personal confidence choices had become public entertainment.
“Declan’s smitten,” Mrs. Patterson continued with the authority of someone who’d been observing romantic developments in Everdale Falls for approximately sixty years. “You can tell by the way he looks at her—like she’s the only person in the room.”
“Well, she is gorgeous,” Sandra said matter-of-factly. “Some women just know how to carry themselves, you know?”
I did know how to carry myself. I’d always been confident in my appearance, comfortable in my own skin in ways that Derek had tried to undermine.
The problem wasn’t how I looked or how I felt about how I looked—the problem was that I’d just kissed someone in front of the entire community and now everyone was going to expect us to be together.
“I heard he’s on some kind of sabbatical from his fancy law job,” Sandra said, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “Rebecca at the bank mentioned he’s been asking about local real estate.”
Local real estate. As if Declan was planning to stay permanently, as if our public kiss was part of some grand romantic gesture rather than a moment of temporary insanity brought on by mistletoe and winter weather.
“Oh,” Mrs. Patterson drew it out as if this was news to her. “Holiday home?”
Silence.
Either Sandra was ignoring Mrs. Patterson, or she shrugged because she didn’t know.
Stall doors banged shut, and the sounds of peeing women surrounded me. I made a fuss of making a noise, unzipping my coat and zipping it back up so it didn’t sound like I was standing here eavesdropping, or like a deer in headlights after that kiss.
That kiss.
Fuck.
Derek had kissed me like that once. In public, at a work party, making a show of claiming me in front of our colleagues while privately making me feel like I should be grateful for his attention.
The memory made the sweetness of Declan’s kiss feel complicated, tainted by the possibility that I was once again misreading someone’s motivations.
Flushes occurred, and I drew in a breath of relief as the sounds of washing hands and hand dryers blasted out.
The bathroom door opened again, and I heard the click of high heels on tile.
“Holly?” It was Mrs. Hall’s voice, warm with maternal concern. “Honey, are you in here?”
I considered pretending I wasn’t there, but Mrs. Hall had supernatural abilities when it came to locating people who were hiding from social situations.
“I’m here,” I said, with a mental curse, unlocking the stall door and emerging to face the assembled group of women who were all looking at me with expressions ranging from maternal pride to romantic satisfaction.
“We wanted to check on you,” Mrs. Hall said gently. “That was quite a public moment out there.”
“It was mistletoe,” I said weakly, as if that explained everything about my temporary loss of sanity.
“It was beautiful,” Mrs. Patterson corrected firmly, not in the least bit embarrassed to have been caught gossiping. “And that young man looks at you like you hung the moon, dear. Nothing wrong with a little public romance, especially at Christmas.”
“But what if it’s not...” I started, then stopped, because I wasn’t sure how to articulate my fears to women who were all looking at me like I’d just fulfilled their collective romantic fantasies.
“What if it’s not what?” Sandra asked kindly.
“What if it’s not real?” I said finally. “What if I’m just... convenient? Or grateful? Or making the same mistakes I made before?”
The women exchanged looks, and I realized I’d just voiced my deepest insecurities to the Everdale Falls gossip network, which meant everyone in town would know about my relationship anxieties by morning.
“Holly,” Mrs. Hall said gently, “honey, have you seen the way that man looks at you?”
“I’ve seen the way men look at me when they want something,” I said, probably more bitterly than I intended.
“No,” Sandra said firmly. “You’ve seen the way terrible men looked at you when they were using you.
Declan Hayes isn’t them, and you know the difference even if you’re scared to trust it.
” The way she said this made me wonder if she knew about Derek.
Had my mom been telling the whole town about my woes?
Probably.
The words hit me with uncomfortable accuracy.
Because I did know the difference, at least intellectually.
Declan had been nothing but respectful, kind, and genuinely interested in what I had to say.
He’d never made me feel like I should be grateful for his attention or like I needed to earn his interest through usefulness.
But knowing something intellectually and trusting it emotionally were apparently two different things.
“But what if he’s just nostalgic?” I asked. “What if he’s just trying to recapture some old fantasy while he figures out his life?”
“What if he’s not?” Mrs. Hall countered gently. “What if he’s a good man who sees how wonderful you are and wants to be part of your life?”
The possibility that Declan’s interest was genuine, that his kindness wasn’t calculated, that his attraction to me was real rather than convenient—it was both hopeful and terrifying in ways I wasn’t sure I was ready to handle.
“Holly,” Sandra said quietly, “you’re allowed to be happy. You’re allowed to trust someone who treats you well. You’re allowed to believe that you deserve good things.”
“I know I deserve good things,” I said, which was mostly true. “I just don’t know if I’m good at recognizing them when they happen.”
“Then maybe start with this,” Sandra said practically. “That man spent his evening hanging mistletoe in a snowstorm and kissed you like you were the only woman in the world. If that’s not good treatment, I don’t know what is.”
She was right. Declan had been consistently kind, helpful, and genuinely interested in my thoughts and feelings.
He’d never made me feel like I was too much or not enough, never suggested I should be grateful for his attention or that I needed to change anything about myself to be worthy of his interest.
“Plus,” Mrs. Patterson added with obvious satisfaction, “you two have enough chemistry to power the Christmas lights. Sometimes physical attraction is just the universe’s way of pointing you toward someone worth paying attention to.
It’s the same with Mr. Patterson and me.
He knows how to light my fire,” she said dreamily.
Eww.
I did not need that thought slamming into my brain right now.
But she’s not wrong about the chemistry. We definitely had chemistry, and not just the almost-kiss moments in storage rooms and basement. There was something electric about being near Declan, something that made me feel more alive and confident and interesting than I’d felt in months.
“The question is,” Mrs. Hall said gently, “what are you going to do about it?”
What was I going to do about it? I could keep retreating behind my walls, pretending that our public kiss hadn’t changed anything between us. I could let fear of making another mistake keep me from exploring what might be the best thing to happen to me in years.
Or I could be brave enough to trust my own judgment, to believe that I was smart enough to tell the difference between someone who wanted to use me and someone who genuinely cared about me.
“I’m going to stop hiding in the bathroom,” I said finally, smoothing down my red dress and checking my reflection in the mirror. “And I’m going to figure out if Declan Hayes is as wonderful as he seems or if I’m just really bad at reading people.”
“Smart girl,” Mrs. Patterson said approvingly. “Though, for what it’s worth, his parents raised a wonderful man. He’s exactly as lovely as he seems.”
“Okay,” I said, taking a deep breath and checking my lipstick one more time. “I’m going back out there.”
“Good,” Mrs. Hall said with satisfaction. “And Holly? That young man is still standing exactly where you left him, watching the bathroom door like he’s hoping you’ll come back soon.”
The information sent a flutter of something warm and hopeful through my chest, because waiting for someone was the kind of thing you did when you cared about them, not when you were just being polite or looking for convenient holiday romance.
Right?
As I walked back into the winter wonderland of the community center, I realized I had a choice to make. I could let Derek’s betrayal dictate how I approached every future relationship, or I could trust that I was smart enough and strong enough to recognize genuine kindness when I encountered it.
Declan was indeed standing exactly where I’d left him, and when he saw me approaching, his face lit up with relief and something that looked remarkably like genuine affection.
Maybe Mrs. Patterson was right. Maybe some feelings didn’t disappear just because you grew up and moved away.
And maybe some people really were as wonderful as they seemed, especially when they spent winter evenings solving heating crises and hanging mistletoe in snowstorms just to make community festivals successful.
The festival was close, but suddenly, that felt like plenty of time to figure out if Declan Hayes was worth risking my carefully protected heart for.
Especially when he was looking at me like I really had hung the moon, red dress and all.