Christmas Carol

“Cyrus,” I murmur, tears stinging my eyes. I hold onto him even harder, hating that this wonderful man ever felt like that in his life. I know some of those scars because of my mother, but I know any small thing I felt was cushioned by my father. For Cyrus there was no cushion, there was only stark reality.

“It’s okay, mi corazón, you don’t need to cry,” he says, his thumb sliding against the corner of my eye. “You don’t understand what you have done.”

“What did I do?” I ask, trying to calm my heart.

“You showed me that life is good, Carol. You showed me that there are people out there who genuinely care about everyone. That there are people who exist who don’t let anger and hate rule them—”

“You’re making me sound like a Saint, Cyrus and I’m anything but. I mean, I kind of hate your parents.”

“I didn’t have parents, mi corazón. I’m not sure what they were, but parents don’t choose to leave their child as a ward of the state while looking for their next high.”

He’s right about that, but my heart still squeezes in my chest at just the thought of someone doing Cyrus like that.

“Cyrus…”

“You would never do that to our child, Carol,” he adds, and I tremble with his words. The mere thought of carrying Cyrus’s child fills me with a happiness that I can’t describe.

“Never,” I vow, my heart in my words.

“I came to Mistletoe, mad at the world, Carol. I was mad because my dream of playing baseball and being a star was crashing around me. I thought I was losing everything, including my dream of proving to others that I was worthy of respect.”

“Your shoulder is healing though. The team’s doctor told you that. You will be able to play for any team you want. I heard what you and your agent were talking about. You don’t have to live in Mistletoe and play here, Cyrus,” I confess, knowing that now is not the time to hold back. I was going to wait until he told me, but it doesn’t matter.

“But would you go with me, Carol? Would you travel with me as I played?”

Relief flows through me like waves. I had hoped, maybe even dreamed since I heard his phone conversation, but I was bracing myself for losing him. I knew it would kill me, but I wanted him to be happy.

“I would follow you anywhere, Cyrus.”

“You would give up your business? Your career? You would move away from your sister?”

“My sister has found someone she loves probably almost as much as I love you Cyrus. She has her life. We’ll always be close, but we don’t need to live close to each other to keep that relationship. As for my career… I can find a way to live my dream, while you live yours.”

“Carol, you were made for this town. You belong here,” he says, bending down to kiss my forehead.

“I don’t understand. I thought you wanted me with you,” I respond, trying to pull away, coming down off of my high of having the man I love wanting me with him. This sudden shift in reality is abrupt… and painful.

“Shhh…” he groans, refusing to let me go. “I do want you with me, mi corazón. I’m just saying that you are home here in Mistletoe. This place feeds your happiness. You love Christmas and everything the holiday stands for.”

I swallow nervously, because he’s not wrong, but I don’t want Mistletoe if it means I can’t have him.

“Cyrus. I know you hate Christmas and I know why. I do love it here, but I love you more. I can be happy anywhere you are.”

He smiles at me, the kind of smile that brightens his blue eyes and makes the rest of the world disappear.

“Mi corazón, do you not understand? You have changed everything for me. You have given me my very own Christmas miracle.”

“I have?”

“Si. You have given me your love and before you came over here I was watching you laughing and talking to the people of Mistletoe and I realized something.”

“What’s that?”

“You’ve given me the one thing I’ve never had and really the only thing I truly wanted all these years.”

“I don’t understand, Cyrus,” I respond helplessly, not knowing what he’s talking about, but recognizing the importance of it just the same.

“You gave me a home, Carol. I love everything about this town now, because I see it through your eyes. This is where I want our children to grow up.”

“Our children…”

“Definitely, mi corazón.”

With his words he drops down onto a knee and looks up at me. My heart is beating crazily.

I watch as his hand slips down into his pocket and he pulls out a small jewelry box. I gasp, his face blurring as tears begin to well up. I can’t believe this is happening.