5. Chapter Four
Chapter Four
Jimmy
The weight of a year's worth of guilt settles like an anchor in my stomach as I pull up to Evergreen Inn.
"Time to take a chance," I mutter, trying to summon enough courage to turn off the ignition.
It's been twelve long months since I last set foot in Strawberry Falls—since Bobby threw me a lifeline when I was drowning in remorse. Working at his hotel, fixing what's broken, it's ironic, isn't it? Repairing things when all I've done back home is break them.
Every time I close my eye, I see the flames licking the side of Cornerstone Bakery. I can still taste the ash on my tongue, feel the heat scorching my skin.
I retrieve the bouquet of yellow roses from the passenger seat. Their soft petals a delicate contrast to my rough skin.
"New beginnings," I whisper, cradling the blooms close. It's important that Ella knows they're not just any flowers, but a symbol—an unspoken vow that I'm here to stay. I hope she understands, sees past my absence, and receives the love that never truly left.
I allow myself a few more minutes before facing the music. Snowflakes dance lazily, settling on the welcoming porch. A large wreath of pine boughs, tied with a large red bow, hangs on the front door.
"Okay, Jimmy, this is it." I open the door and step out into the cold.
"Jimmy Callahan, as I live and breathe." Holly's voice slices through the silence like a hot knife through butter.
"Hey, Holly." I try for a smile, but it's more like a grimace. "Good to see you."
"Come on in out of the cold." She opens the door wider, and I step into the embrace of the inn, leaving a trail of snow at the threshold.
"Thanks." I shake the snow off my boots, scanning the Christmas decorations that twine around the banister, the garlands heavy with baubles and candy canes.
"Daddy!" Ella's voice, bright as a bell, cuts through the tension.
I turn, and she's there. My girl, shining with an inner light that warms the space between us. She moves quickly, her arms wrapping around me like vines, squeezing tight enough to push the breath from my lungs.
"Hey, pumpkin," I manage, my throat tight as I hug her back. The familiar scent of her shampoo, a mix of vanilla and strawberry that hasn't changed since she was a child.
"Welcome home," she says, stepping back to look me in the eye, hers filled with hope and something fierce.
Drew stands a careful distance away, his body language a wall I can’t blame him for building. I step toward him, offering my hand–an olive branch, to the man who stood by my daughter when I couldn't.
"Drew." I nod, keeping my grip firm but brief.
"Jimmy." His handshake is just as stiff. His brown eyes hold mine, hinting at conversations we've yet to have—while mine convey a respect that I hope he can return someday.
"Those for me?" Ella gestures to the roses.
"You look... radiant," I say, handing her the bouquet.
Her hands cradle the bump, a protective gesture that speaks volumes of the love woven around her child. The sight grips my heart—squeezes out an aching sorrow for all the moments lost while hiding from my mistakes.
"Thank you, Dad." Ella smiles as she holds the bouquet up to her nose to enjoy their sweet fragrance. She lifts her eyes to meet mine before she glances at someone standing by the fireplace.
Time seems to hold its breath when my gaze locks with Eve’s. Her hazel eyes, wide with surprise, mirror back the whirlwind of emotions churning within me. A gasp parts her lips.
"Jimmy," she breathes.
"Hi, Eve." My voice is strained. "It's, uh, good to see you."
"Good to see you too." Her fingers twist her wedding ring, a habit I know as well as the lines of my own hands.
"You're looking well." It's a feeble attempt at normalcy, but it's all I have.
"Thank you." Her voice catches as she averts her gaze to her feet.
A flicker of light on the mantle catches my eye. I recall the day that photo was taken. Eve and me, sun-kissed and laughing, believing we were invincible. Ella's doing, no doubt.
"Remember that day?" I ask tentatively.
Eve's eyes linger on the picture, a hint of a smile touching her lips. "At the falls."
"Tea?" Holly interjects attempting to lighten the mood.
"Sounds perfect," Ella replies. "I'll help you. Do you have a vase for these roses?"
"I'm sure I can find something, Dear. You all make yourselves comfortable," Holly instructs as Ella follows her into the kitchen.
We shuffle towards the dining room, each step feeling more like a march towards an unknown verdict.
"Enjoy," Holly encourages as she and Ella place steaming cups of tea and scones in front of us. The buttery aroma of freshly baked pastry fills the air.
"No one makes better scones than Holly," Ella enthuses.
"Just like my ma used to bake," Hank adds.
"They do hit the spot on an icy day, if I may say so myself," Holly replies with a wink. "A little butter and jam, and you'll forget all about the chill outside."
My appetite is nowhere to be found. I force myself to take a few nibbles, the usually comforting taste turning to sawdust in my mouth. I pray for the courage to face whatever comes next.
"Mom, Dad?" Ella’s voice is laden with purpose. "I thought it would be nice for us all to be together for Christmas."
"Christmas has always brought miracles to Strawberry Falls," Holly chimes in.
Ella beams, her belief unwavering. "Exactly! Which is why Holly, and I arranged for you both to stay at the inn. Together."
I search Eve's face for a sign of what she's thinking. But she's a master at holding back the storm.
Suddenly, there’s a knock on the door.
"I'll get it," Holly says, moving towards the entrance.
Carolers' voices drift in from outside. The space fills with a chorus of 'Silent Night,' which is ironic given the noise in my head.
As the carolers' voices swell, a single tear escapes Eve's eye. I feel it like a stab to my heart. Unable to sit still any longer, I stand, stuffing my hands into my pockets. I notice the cold metal of the watch she gave me for our tenth anniversary against my skin.
"Excuse me," I mumble, needing to escape before I shatter completely. I turn and head for the door. The fresh layer of snow muffles the sound of my footsteps, each step taking me further from Eve, yet no closer to solace.