An unexpected rush hits after he leaves, so I end up having to stay past the end of my shift. I hurry home since I still need to shower and shave and get date-ready—and I still have to finish preparing Cal’s anniversary present, too.
Once I’m showered and buffed to perfection, I make quick work of doing my hair and getting dressed. I pick out a cranberry-colored sweater dress with deceptively warm black stockings, then I grab cute ankle boots to pair with it. We’re going to Winterfest tonight, and while it’s not as cold as when we went last year, it’s still chilly, and it’ll be even colder on the ice.
Then again, no matter how cold I get, Cal will warm me up afterward when we go back to the inn where we spent our first night together.
I have his real anniversary present wrapped on the bed, but before I go downstairs for dinner, I need to get his other gift ready.
Dropping onto the chair in front of my desk, I open my laptop and turn it on. While I wait for it to power up, I run my hand across the red leatherbound book I was reading last night. A Christmas Carol. The least naughty gift Cal gave me last year.
I love this book. I keep it around even when it’s not Christmastime, just because it reminds me of the start of our relationship.
In that spirit, I thought this year it would be a fun throwback to write another sexy homework assignment for him. This one I’m not afraid to print off, but it prints without jamming anyway. I staple the pages together and fold them in half, then I slide them into the crimson envelope that already contains an incredibly gushy card about how amazing he is and how much I love him. I put on an extra layer of lipstick, then I seal the envelope with a kiss.
My phone buzzes on the desk beside me. I don’t have to pick it up to see his message: I’m here.
I grin, grabbing my phone and his card and going over to collect his present off the bed. My purse for the night is oversized since I’m also using it as an overnight bag, so I shove in the present and card and head downstairs.
I greet Cal at the door, hoping to hide my nerves, but I can’t hide anything from him. Where I’m worried, he’s calm, as if this can only possibly go well.
Firmly placing a hand at the small of my back, he pulls me in, pressing a reassuring kiss to the side of my face. “Relax.”
“I am,” I insist, even though it’s not true.
He takes my hand and gives it a squeeze, then we walk together to the dining room where Adeline has already set the table for us. My mom is at the foot of the table; she looks up with a bright smile when we enter the room.
“You must be Callan,” my mother says, standing to offer her hand. Cal gives it a good, firm shake and she smiles with approval. “I’ve heard so much about you.”
That’s not true. I mean, I gushed about how smart and wonderful he is in hopes that my praise would make her more inclined to like him, but as far as the important things… no.
They exchange polite greetings and I’m relieved that my mom doesn’t seem to be alarmed by—or even notice—that he’s a tad older than I am. Of course, my mom has always been drawn to men a little older than her too, so that might be why.
Adeline brings in salads as soon as we sit down. Conversation remains light, for the most part, but while the verbal exchange is pleasantly mundane throughout, I notice my mother examining our interactions quite closely. When Cal mindlessly places his hand over mine atop the table, when he tells her a cute story about something I did and he squeezes my thigh under the table, even the way he watches me leave the room when I excuse myself to go pee.
I’m not sure what she’s watching for, but I come back as quickly as possible, not wanting to leave him alone for a potential ambush. When I come back, everything is still pleasant, so I tell myself to relax a bit.
The main course has been served while I was gone. I take my seat beside Cal and grab my fork, but before I take a single bite, my mom begins the line of questioning I’ve been dreading.
“So, what do you do for a living, Callan?”
Neither of us says anything right away. Cal looks over at me, wordlessly checking that I still want to stick as close as possible to the truth.
I know it’s not an easy truth, but I don’t see the point in trying to lie. Things are too serious between us to even fantasize that she’ll never find out where he works. We’re only celebrating our second Christmas together this year, but if it’s up to me, I’ll spend all the rest of them with him, too.
I nod at him subtly, dropping my fork and resting my hand over his before I can think better of it. Lending each other support when things are rough comes so naturally to us, and I’m not used to having our behavior observed by an outsider.
“Cal is actually a teacher at Oak Grove High. English lit.”
My mother holds my gaze, but her expression betrays nothing. I can’t tell if she’s not surprised, or she’s so stunned that she’s trying to remember how to speak.
“A teacher,” she finally says.
My appetite abandons me with a quickness. “Yeah,” I say, hoping I don’t look as uncomfortable as I feel.
“And you never crossed paths when you went to school there?”
I fight the urge to look at Cal again, knowing it would come off as suspicious. This is much harder in the moment than I thought it would be. Curled up naked in Cal’s bed when I came up with this hare-brained idea to be honest, I had at least a dozen arguments to back up why it was the best course of action.
Seeing that I’m clamming up, Cal asserts brazenly, “Noelle was one of my students, actually.”