Chapter 20
20
Holly
December 25
Hudson Valley, New York
Holly turns left on the North Service Road and drives slowly and carefully, because her vision is blurred by the tears that have not stopped falling since she left Aiden’s family’s home, then pulls over at the side of the road to call her best friend.
“I’m coming,” Ivy had told her. “I’ll be on the next flight out. I’ll be with you as soon as I can.” And while Holly feels terrible for begging her friend to leave her Hawaiian art retreat and come be with her, as she takes another gulping sob, she knows she had no choice. She really can’t be alone right now. The tears she never shed when Matt broke off the wedding have arrived, and they’re a deluge. Her heart is broken. But she knows she’s not crying over Matt—or at least, not directly. And she’s not just crying over Aiden, either. All the emotions that have been pent up inside her have rushed to the surface. She’s crying over ten lost years. She’s crying over fooling herself into thinking Matt could ever be the one. And yes, she’s crying because she ruined things with Aiden—and she really, really likes him.
Out of the corner of a tear-blurred eye, she sees a light swinging around at the side of the road. She slows her car even more and looks into the darkness. Among the trees there’s definitely a light, its beam going back and forth, up and down.
Holly stops and rolls down her window, listens. Eventually, she hears a voice, faint but audible. “Mrs. Claws! Mrs. Claws! Where are you, Mrs. Claws?”
She turns off the car and steps out, her tears abruptly forgotten. “George! Mr. Plaskett? Is that you?”
“Hello?” The light is still swinging in the trees, but then George steps out onto the soft shoulder at the side of the road and Holly gasps.
“George! What are you doing out here at night with no coat on?!”
“Oh, dear, I’m just frantic. The latch on my front door has been finicky lately, and I suppose when I said goodbye to my Christmas visitors tonight, and sent Drew off to spend Christmas with his family, it didn’t close properly. I was heading up to bed, and Mrs. Claws normally follows me—but I felt a terrible draft and then saw the door swinging open. And Mrs. Claws was nowhere to be found! She only goes outside with my direct supervision, and never at night. There are wolves, coyotes about. Oh, dear.”
“How long ago was this, George?”
“I’m not sure…half an hour, maybe more?”
“Come. Get in my car.”
“But please, I can’t, I have to find her—”
“I’ll help you, George. I’ll look for her. But you can’t be outside in the middle of winter like this. We need to get you inside, get you warm.”
“I suppose you’re right,” George says as he reluctantly gets in the car. “But you’ll help me find her?”
“I promise,” Holly says, wishing with all her heart this will be a promise she can keep. She turns her car back on and puts the heat on full blast as she drives toward the old Christmas tree farm and George’s house. They soon pull up out front of the charming old manor. “Why don’t we check and see if she’s come back while you were gone?” Holly says, and follows him inside. George calls out the cat’s name hopefully, but there’s no mew in response, no sound of a bell on a collar as the cat runs to greet him.
“George, does Mrs. Claws have a favorite treat, perhaps?”
“She certainly does. She just loves freeze-dried minnows, and I have a bag in the cupboard. Always makes me think I’m feeding her fishing bait, but she can’t seem to get enough of them.”
“Could I get that bag, please? I’ll take it out with me and start looking around the property. May I use your flashlight? Thank you. And here.” There’s a pad and pen on the kitchen counter; Holly writes down her cell phone number. “Put on an extra sweater, light the fire, and leave the door open for her. We’ll put a few of her treats in the doorway, and perhaps she’ll smell them and come back in while I’m out looking for her. And if she does, you call me right away.”
He takes the piece of paper from her hand and nods, his expression still distraught. “Thank you, Holly, for coming to my rescue.”
“Of course, George. I completely understand—Mrs. Claws is important to you. And I’m going to find her, okay? Cats rarely go far—she’s probably just out exploring a little, maybe chased after a mouse.”
“She used to love to do that, when she was younger,” George says. “But she’s too old to be out at night on her own.”
“I’ll find her,” Holly says firmly. “You wait here.”
Holly turns on the flashlight and holds it in one hand while shaking the bag of treats with the other. Shake, shake. “Mrs. Claws, where are you?”
She shines the flashlight’s beam over the snow and eventually sees tiny paw prints leading around the back of the house. She follows them toward the rows and rows of Christmas trees, but the snow has blown around a bit, and she loses the cat’s tracks. She keeps on walking in the same direction, shining her light in the darkness, shaking the treat bag, calling out in a gentle voice so she doesn’t scare the cat.
After several minutes of fruitless searching, Holly decides to be systematic. She’ll head down one row of trees at a time, checking under some of the bigger ones, with their weighty pine skirts. Mrs. Claws might be hiding there.
An hour passes. Even in her warm winter boots, Holly’s feet are growing numb—but she keeps on searching, row after row. “Mrs. Claws, hello?” Shake, shake. “I have something for you. Come out, pretty girl!”
Holly stops. Was that a faint mew , or was it the wind in the trees? She stands perfectly still, listening, shakes the treat bag again.
Mew.
Shake, shake.
Mew.
Holly checks under one tree, then another, but Mrs. Claws isn’t under any of them. Then she approaches a particularly large tree with heavy branches hanging down to the ground, and as she lifts one up, she catches a glimpse of the little cat, her eyes shining bright blue in the snow her pale coat almost blends into.
“There you are,” Holly says softly. She knows she has to be careful not to scare the cat into running off, especially since Holly is unfamiliar to her. She makes no sudden moves, slowly takes a dried minnow out of the treat bag, kneels down, and holds it out. Mrs. Claws doesn’t hesitate, and steps forward for the treat immediately, then flops down in the snow for a belly rub. Holly laughs softly and gives her one more minnow before gently picking her up and holding her close. Mrs. Claws purrs, pressing herself into the softness of Holly’s parka. “You didn’t mean to run so far, did you? It’s okay, you poor thing. We’ll get you back to George.” Mrs. Claws seems to purr even louder at the mention of her dear owner’s name.
As the house comes into view, Holly can see that the lights inside are all ablaze, and there are cars in the driveway.
“Holly?”
She slows.
“Holly, are you out there? Are you all right?”
It’s Aiden, and when he sees her step out of the Christmas tree forest with the cat in her arms, he gasps with relief. “Oh, thank goodness. You’re okay. And you found Mrs. Claws.”
The rest of Aiden’s family comes tumbling out of the house, all talking at once as usual, calling out to George that Mrs. Claws has been found. There are cries of “Holly found her, Holly found her”—and then Holly is in the warm house again, and Mrs. Claws is rolling happily in front of the fireplace.
“Aiden, my boy, could you check her over and make sure she isn’t hurt in any way? I’m a bit too shaken to stand,” George says, smiling gratefully at Holly, as he has been since she came inside with the cat.
Aiden kneels down and runs his hands over the cat’s body. “Just a little cold, and that’s nothing a few minutes in front of the fire won’t cure. She’s perfectly fine. Thanks to Holly.” He looks at her from across the room, but Holly can’t tell what he’s thinking—the urgency of her sadness is suddenly back, full force.
“Excuse me,” Holly says, and slips from the room to find somewhere she can be alone and collect her thoughts.
“Holly?” She turns. Alexa has followed her out into the hallway. Holly takes a deep breath, willing her tears to stay at bay.
“Please, Alexa. I can’t take any more, okay? I’m a little shaken up. I just need a minute.”
But there’s something different about Alexa’s expression. Her eyes are wide, and she’s clasping her hands together. “I came out here to say I’m sorry. I wasn’t fair to you. Aiden was so upset to find you’d left—and he was going to go out and find you, but then George called to tell him Mrs. Claws was missing, so we all rushed out here to help find her. But you had gotten here first, and were out in the snow, on Christmas night, looking for an old man’s cat.”
“Of course I was. George adores Mrs. Claws.”
“It was really kind of you to go out looking for her. I’m sorry for what I accused you of—finding Aiden on purpose because you knew he was rich and successful now, and therefore more up to your standards. I don’t know what’s been getting into me lately.” She sighs. “Well, actually I do know. But just because some anxiety I thought I had kicked is getting the better of me, it’s no reason for me to treat people the way I have been. People like you. I hope you can forgive me.”
“Of course,” Holly says, then offers a tentative smile. “No grudges allowed at Christmas, right? It’s really okay. And what you’re going through—that’s hard. I’m sorry. But I know everyone in your family loves you a lot.” She can feel the tears rising up again. “Alexa, I think I need to go,” she says.
“Holly, wait, no—”
“I have to, Alexa. I really do.” Alexa looks stricken as Holly turns for the door. “Could you say good night to everyone from me? Thank them for everything? I’m sorry. I really am.”
She fumbles with her boots and coat and is barely out the door before the tears start again almost at once, flowing hot down her cheeks in the cold night air. She breaks into a jog, heading for her car.
“Holly!” In just a few steps, Aiden has caught up to her. “Holly.” He says her name again, gently—the same way she said Mrs. Claws’s name earlier, being careful not to startle her into running away.
“Please, don’t cry,” he says.
“I can’t stop myself. And this isn’t something that you should have to deal with.”
He steps closer. “But why not? I care about you, Holly. A lot.”
“Even after everything? Even after the fact that I was engaged to someone and I didn’t even tell you?”
“I think I understand,” he says. “You came here to heal, and you didn’t want to talk about it. And I promise, I never thought it was what Alexa said—that you had come out here looking for me because you’d heard I was successful, and you never would have given me the time of day before. I know we haven’t seen each other in years, but I just know you would never do that. Back at my parents’ place, I went outside because…” He trails off.
And all at once, Holly finds herself smiling, even through her tears. “Because you needed a minute,” she says. “Because it takes you time to think, and you just wanted to do that, to think. So you went out to the yard.”
He smiles, too, and reaches for her. “Exactly.” They stand like that, holding each other’s hands, but not embracing, not yet. “And then I came back in ten minutes later, and you had gone. I was so upset with Alexa for being that hard on you.”
“It’s okay, really. We talked in the hallway.”
He shakes his head. “It’s nice of you to be understanding, but she and I need to have a big talk, too. Meanwhile, I’m worried about you. It was so great of you to help George. Please, don’t run off.”
“Of course. I’m so glad I found her.”
“I’m so glad I found you ,” he says, his voice hoarse now, full of emotion. “But Holly, I also don’t want to be a rebound for you. I care about you way too much for that. So, as hard as it would be for me, take all the time you need.”
Holly swallows hard over the lump in her throat. “I know. And I don’t want you to be a rebound, either. I like you so much, Aiden. I was with my fiancé for a long time, I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with him—and yet I know already that the way I feel for you is different. Stronger. It’s what I think I’ve always wanted, even though I half convinced myself it didn’t exist.” She pauses. “After tonight, though, I’ve realized that I want to do it right. I can’t rush into anything with you because I’m afraid I’ll ruin it. And the idea that I might have ruined it was completely devastating for me. I think that means we have to slow down a little.” As she says this, she finds herself drawn toward his lips, as if they’re twin magnets, pulling her closer. He seems to feel the same, lowering his head until their lips touch, softly, barely.
“I understand,” he whispers. “I don’t want anything to ruin this, ever.”
They kiss gently in the snowy Christmas night, and then pull away from each other. Every single part of her wants to ask him to come back to the cabin with her, but instead she says, “I’m going to head back alone. But I’ll call you in the morning?”
“Okay,” he says, kissing her one last time. Then he stands and watches as she drives away into the darkness—but when she reaches the end of the driveway, she hits the brakes. She can see the words on his long-ago card in her mind: “Dear Holly, I’m writing to wish you a very Merry Christmas—and to profess my deep affection for you. I think you’re the best girl in the school. You’re pretty, you’re smart, you’re kind, you’re funny, you’re entirely you, and I’ve never met anyone I liked more. I hope we always know each other.”
She held these words in her memory for twelve years. Never forgetting a single one. And the person who wrote them was Aiden.
She puts on the emergency brake and gets out of the car, runs back toward him in the gently falling snow, her steps growing lighter with every one that takes her back to the place where he is standing, waiting. The tears are streaming down her face again, but she knows they aren’t tears of sadness. And when she gets close enough to him, they stop falling.
He looks confused, but cautiously happy. “Did you forget something?”
“Yes!” she says, and now she feels like laughing instead of crying. “I forgot that I actually don’t want to take things slow. I’ve been waiting forever for you. I was with the wrong person—but that has nothing to do with us. I want to be with you , Aiden. I don’t need to think it over, or take my time, or take things slow. I know what I want. And it’s you. Somehow, it’s always been you. And I don’t want to waste another moment.”
The smile on his face lights her up from the inside, causes joy and love to flow through every part of her body. She’s made the right decision, knows it with every fiber of her being. Aiden picks her up by the waist, swings her around, and kisses her like it could be the last time—but she’s certain it won’t be.