Chapter 15 Derek
DEREK
The sun sets over the mountain as I drive us slowly through the village past the shops, the little church, and the pet shop, whose lot is temporarily being used by Farmer Connelly for Christmas tree sales. Before long we’re winding around the familiar curves of Angel Mountain back up to the lodge.
It was a good day—the kind of day you wish would never end. But I know Grandpa Michael needs a break. After feasting on just about everything we could get our hands on at the Mingle, he was ready to go to the library and admire all the homemade ornaments.
While the solar system J.B. and I worked on is an impressive contraption, there were also beautiful angels, balls, and figures made by our friends and neighbors on the mountain—some hand-crocheted, others sewn or painted, and even a few animals carved from soap.
I know J.B. was hoping to stay to see the tree decorated, but Grandpa Michael was fading by the time we finished up in the library and I was looking for an excuse to get him back to the lodge because I knew he would never ask for himself.
My big-hearted daughter must have noticed. She told her great-grandpa that she was tired and she really wanted to curl up and watch “It’s a Wonderful Life.” He agreed to that right away.
But J.B. also didn’t want the day to be over for everyone. So now once we’ve dropped the two of them off at the lodge, Darcy and I are supposed to go back to the festivities like it’s a date night.
My chest aches and I’m not even sure why anymore. Part of it is guilt for being dishonest with my family. Grandpa Michael is one thing—he won’t be around to see the fallout.
But I never intended for J.B. to get dragged into this mess.
It turns out that she’s more in touch with the people I care about than I knew. Her great-grandfather spoke with her on the phone right after Darcy and I arrived. And according to J.B. she and Darcy have been keeping in touch through email since she went off to school.
It’s nice to think that she has a good support system. It’s an unorthodox one maybe, but I can’t think of better people to have in your corner than Darcy Keller and Michael Lockwood.
And I’m starting to worry that maybe she needs it more than I suspected. My talk with her vice-principal yesterday was more confusing than helpful.
He confirmed that she’d never had behavior issues until what he only referred to as “the incident” and he also told me that she would be allowed back after the holidays, but with the understanding that there would be no second chances for her.
All that was fine, but he had no insight into why she would do what she did.
I reached out to the counselor at her school, and I’m hoping maybe she’ll have more of a sense of what’s going on and how J.B. is really doing. But so far it’s been nothing but phone tag.
And there’s a selfish side of me that keeps whispering to me to just keep her home anyway. I know I can’t—it’s not right to take away an opportunity like this for her. But it’s felt so good having my daughter back that I really don’t want to let her go again.
Of course once she learns what’s really going on here she’ll probably want to be as far away from me as possible.
I’m also aching because all day long I’ve been feeling more and more like Darcy is really my fiancée. People I’ve known since I was a kid kept stopping to congratulate us, and every single time it just felt… right.
And that’s a feeling I can’t afford to get used to.
“Here we are,” J.B. sings out as we take the last curve and sail up the drive to the lodge.
“We’re fine from here,” Grandpa Michael says. “No need to get out. J.B. will help me in.”
That’s not going to happen.
I hop out of the SUV and help him down. Then J.B. takes his other arm and the three of us head up the steps together in the gently falling snow.
“This was a special day,” he tells me, turning to cup my cheek in his hand when we reach the door.
“For me too,” I tell him, meaning it.
“It’s not over yet,” J.B. says. “We’re going to watch a movie and eat room service in bed.”
“She’s a bottomless pit,” Grandpa Michael says approvingly.
I watch them head inside where guests in the lobby call out his name and raise their mugs of cocoa to him like the conquering hero he is.
This place is so solid and good. I didn’t realize how much I missed it.
I head back to the car. Darcy has buckled herself in up front.
“Ready for the Host of Angels?” I ask.
“I had another idea,” she tells me.
“Let’s hear it,” I say, glad to see her speaking her mind, even if it’s just about what she prefers to do on a pretend date night.
“I love the idea of the concert and sing-along,” she tells me. “But I think J.B. was excited about the tree. What do you think about stopping at that little tree lot and grabbing one to set up at the cabin for her?”
“That’s perfect,” I tell her, feeling moved. “Thank you for thinking about her.”
“You don’t have to thank me for that,” she says, smiling. “J.B. is an incredible kid.”
“You two have been in touch more than I realized,” I venture.
She doesn’t answer right away, and I steal a glance at her.
“I hope you don’t mind,” she says, like she’s worried I do. “I just… I remember how lonely I was when Mandy went off to college. I figured she might like a little extra company, even if it’s just an email here and there to let her know someone is thinking about her.”
“That was very kind of you,” I tell her. “I’m glad she has someone to confide in. Apparently telling your dad about stuff stops being cool as soon as you become a teenager.”
“She doesn’t really say much to me either,” Darcy tells me quickly. “But she almost always writes me back at least a little, so I figure she likes getting the messages.”
“I’m surprised she’s not talking about school a lot more,” I admit out loud. “This place was such a big deal for her.”
“She likes her classes a lot,” Darcy tells me right away. “I mean, I’m sure you know that much. But I think it might be hard for her to share a dorm room. You know how she likes her privacy. And she definitely misses you.”
“I miss her too,” I tell Darcy.
She could probably never guess how lonely I am. People tend to think that if you have money you’re happy and you can always have everything you need.
It’s definitely true that not having enough for your needs can make you unhappy.
I remember those times from back when I was making a teacher’s salary.
It’s a whole different world now that I don’t have to worry about keeping a roof over our heads or putting food on the table.
But more and more often the need to run my business to please people that seem to think that there isn’t enough money in the world just makes me feel empty inside.
And I find that the most sincere people I used to know have been exactly the ones who faded away from my life. Maybe they were afraid I would think they wanted something from me. Maybe they didn’t think we had enough in common once we weren’t in the same tax bracket anymore.
Or maybe I was the one that didn’t make the effort once I got swept up in the business. But I miss having people to talk to about how the kids are doing or what’s happening in the non-financial news.
These days the hangers-on all seem to have stuff like bailouts and investments in mind. Or maybe I’ve just gotten jaded. But you don’t have to have someone befriend you only to ask you for a shocking amount of money too many times before you start putting walls up.
Darcy’s been with me for a long time though, and she never complains about her duties or her pay.
Admittedly, she makes twice what most assistants make, which I still think is about half of what the work she does is worth.
But she really seems to enjoy the job. Sometimes I think that unlike the rest of the world, Darcy is at her desk every morning because she wants to be.
She’s always meant a lot to me, but until this trip I never realized just how much light she brings into my dark life.
“What?” she asks when I glance over at her.
The streetlights flicker over her face, showing me those big eyes and I want to pull over and take her in my arms, kiss her until she knows how she makes me feel—until she feels it too—this longing that keeps me up at night.
Maybe I could have survived feeling like this indefinitely in the city, but it’s different out here. Everything seems too possible, like it’s all right in front of us. All we need to do is reach out and grab it.
She’s doing this for a ring, not because she likes playing house.
But even the voice in the back of my head can’t deny the feeling I have every time we look into each other’s eyes, or our hands touch.
I should just tell her.
But before I can say anything stupid, we’re pulling up in the pet store parking lot.
It’s kind of late for buying a tree and the selection looks pretty slim. Back in the city, the housekeeper already set one up for me, like she does the day after Thanksgiving each year. I just have to hope one of the half dozen remaining on the lot here are good enough.
I open Darcy’s door for her and take her hand as she climbs out.
Even though I thought I was ready for it, my pulse still pounds at the touch of her hand.
“Hey there,” Phil Connelly says, heading our way. “Is that Derek Lockwood?”
“Hey, Phil,” I reply with a smile. Phil is my old friend Roan’s dad. “This is my fiancée, Darcy.”
The words get easier every time.
“A pleasure to meet you, Darcy,” Phil says, looking her over with dancing eyes. “I’ll have to tell Roan I saw you both.”
“Is he still in town?” I ask, surprised.
“Sure is,” Phil tells me. “He’s basically running the farm these days. I’m just a gopher.”
“A gopher?” Darcy echoes.
“You know, go for this, go for that,” Phil says and then barks out a laugh at his own goofy joke.
She laughs too, and I find myself chuckling, mostly just because it’s nice to be out here laughing together in the fresh air.