A Wright Christmas

Even though Aly had lost her mother, it had happened when she was a newborn. In some way, she never really knew the loss of Abby. She’d never really known loss at all. And in her stubborn five-year-old mind, she just didn’t want Peyton to go.

And neither did I.

But how in the hell could I fix this—for me and for Aly?26Peyton“Great show tonight, Peyton,” my dance partner, André, told me as we came offstage from the final bow.

“Thanks! You too.”

My knee twinged slightly, but I couldn’t deny the incredible feeling of being back in Lincoln Center performing on stage at the Koch Theater before an enormous, enthusiastic, full audience. And dancing with André was way better than the last few performances with Serge. He really couldn’t take a hint.

“I think some of us are going to get drinks out if you want to come with,” he offered.

“Sure. I’m down,” I told him with a smile.

Anything to get me out of my apartment. All I’d done in the eight days since being back was dance and obsess over leaving Lubbock. Going out with my friends would hopefully help me to stop thinking so damn much.

I popped a few ibuprofens before changing into jeans and a sweater to combat the cold. New York was in one of those fluke freezing temperatures. It was all supposed to clear up for New Year’s and be something like seventy-five degrees when the ball dropped. So confusing.

But right now, it was chilly.

André waited near the back entrance with his boyfriend, a group of flowers, and a few snow soloists, who all gushed over my performance. André slung an arm around his boyfriend’s shoulders and winked at me as we departed as a group. I get lost in the cluster of people as they all discussed the show as only ballerinas could.

A handful of people hung out at the exit, mingling with other dancers and waiting for significant others. André invited a few more of the performers out with us, and we lingered in a gaggle as they decided who was going.

I rubbed my hands together and blew into them to try to keep them warm. Hanging around outside was a bad idea for my knee. As soon as it got cold, I knew it would get stiff, and I’d pay for it tomorrow. I should probably go home and ice it. But the thought of being alone in my apartment was just not appealing.

“Come on. We need to get moving,” I told André.

He waved at me and continued his conversation with one of the other dancers. I rolled my eyes and pranced up and down on the balls of my feet to keep the warmth in.

Just then, I felt a tug on my peacoat. I turned around in confusion.

“Miss Peyton! Miss Peyton! You did beautiful!”

I gaped at Aly Donoghue standing before me, holding an enormous bouquet of roses.

“Aly?” I gasped. “What are you doing here?” My gaze shifted over the crowd. “Where is your dad?”

“We wanted to surprise you!” she said, stuffing the flowers in my arms. “Did it work?”

I pulled her tight against me. “Yes! It absolutely worked. I cannot believe that you’re here.”

“But you’re glad, right? Daddy said that you might not be happy to see him.”

“What? Of course I am. And I’m so glad to see you, too,” I told her truthfully.

“Aww, Peyton, who is your admirer?” a flower asked. “She’s adorable.”

“This is Aly,” I told her with a smile. “Could you tell André that I had to bail?”

“Sure thing. No problem.” The flower fluttered her fingers at Aly. “Have a good night, cutie!”

“Night!” Aly said. She took my hand in hers and then tugged me away from my group of friends. “Come on. This way. Dad was right over here.”

“He let you wander off alone?” I asked in disbelief.

“No, he could see me the whole time. He’s not far. Remember, it was a surprise!”

And I was surprised. Oh my God, what was even happening? Aly could not be here right now. Isaac most certainly couldn’t be here right now either. Not after how I’d left and what I’d said.

Then, I saw him. I stopped in my tracks. Isaac was here. He was standing right before me with Aly still trying to yank my arm out of the socket to move us closer.

“It’s okay, kiddo,” Isaac said, ruffling her hair. “You did a good job.”

Aly dropped my arm. “I did it just like you’d said, Daddy! I surprised her!”

“Good girl.” He kissed the top of her head, but then his eyes moved back up to mine. “Hi, Peyton.”

“Isaac, I can’t believe you’re here.”

God, I couldn’t stop staring at him. How was he here? How was this happening?

“It was a little last minute,” he conceded.

“But…what are you doing here?”

He grinned sheepishly, but then his confidence returned, and he stepped closer to me. “Aly wanted to bake cookies.”