Santos phoned Maggie for help. “Fox wants to go to see Patricia over Christmas. Does that sound like a good idea to you?”
“I thought you weren’t listening to my advice.”
“I’m making this an exception.”
“Fine. You better call and talk to my father. If he isn’t as enthusiastic about Fox making the trip as Patricia is, then he’ll veto it.”
“So I can let him take the blame instead of me?” He was well acquainted with that underhanded strategy.
“Yes, Fox has to think you’re the good guy.”
“Then at least one person will,” he admitted softly.
“You sound so discouraged, Santos. Why don’t you make the trip with Fox? It would give you a chance to see Libby again. Maybe she’s gotten over you, and you could just be friends.”
He drew in a deep breath. “And if she hasn’t gotten over me?”
“I doubt your pride will allow you to imagine that, but it’s possible. There are a lot of good-looking men at the university, and she may have found someone new. If not, you can tell her you haven’t gotten over her and finally work out whatever your differences are. That’s if she’s speaking to you. When I drove her to the airport, all she said was, ‘Thanks for the ride.’ I wasn’t going to defend you, so it wasn’t much of a conversation. But whatever the risk, you ought to go.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“That’s how you got into all this trouble. Stop worrying and just go. Minneapolis will be an adventure for you. Have you ever seen it snow?”
“No. I didn’t realize I wanted to.”
Maggie sighed. “Tell yourself you’re going to chaperon Fox and just do it. Call me when you make up your mind.”
“I will,” he promised. Fox really did need a chaperon, but he wasn’t qualified. Still, going with Fox would keep him from being thoroughly humiliated if Libby refused to see him. He thought about it for a long time and finally left the decision to a toss of a coin. He had to toss it several times to get an answer that didn’t make his heartache any worse.
By mid-December, Libby was finished with her classes and exams and had moved out of her sorority house and back home. She’d ended the semester with the highest marks she’d ever earned and had begun sending résumés, but so far she hadn’t received any positive replies. She’d been invited to holiday parties but had sent regrets rather than go and stand in the corner all evening, wishing she hadn’t come.
She’d bought presents for her family, had even gotten Maggie’s and Rafael’s into the mail in November, but it was Christmas Eve before she found enough holiday spirit to wrap her family’s gifts. Her father’s favorite author had a new book out, so he’d been easy to shop for. Her mother had remarked on a new cookbook, so she’d bought it for her. Patricia loved girly things, and she’d found a black nightgown with pink polka dots her sister would love.
She set the gifts on her desk and sorted through the ends of the Christmas wrappings, ribbons and bows. Next year, she hoped to be in her own apartment, where maybe she’d feel like decorating as beautifully as her mother always did. This year, she didn’t have so much as a tiny stuffed reindeer in her room.
When she heard Patricia’s high-pitched shriek, she went to the top of the stairs to see what her sister was up to now. Patricia was jumping up and down and hugging Fox as though they’d been parted for centuries, while Fox blushed so deeply his ears turned a bright red. Libby hadn’t realized the details of Fox’s trip had ever been finalized, but she was happy to see him. She brushed her hair out of her eyes and started down the stairs to say hello when Santos stepped through the front door.
He wore a tweed overcoat, and snowflakes melted in his hair. He looked up at her and flashed the grin that always weakened her knees. Shocked to see him, she collapsed on the stairs with a jarring thump.
Peter grabbed Santos’s overcoat and gloves. “We didn’t tell Libby you were coming.”
“Why was that, Daddy? Did you think I’d leave town?”
“Be nice,” her father warned her. “He’s come a long way to see you.”
Just looking at Santos hurt, and she stayed put, forcing him to come up the stairs to sit on the step below hers. Her father and mother ushered Patricia and Fox into the living room, leaving her alone with Santos in the entryway, which was no favor.
“Fox and I have rooms at the Hotel Minneapolis downtown,” he said, “so if you don’t want to see me again, you won’t have to.”
He had absolutely no right to look that good. Memories of him rolled through her with an anguishing heat. “That’s one of the best hotels. You’ll be comfortable there.”
“Fox and I dropped off our luggage and came here, but it looked nice enough. You promised me a tour of Minneapolis, but if you’d rather I—”
He looked so damn sincere, which left her troubled and confused. “What are you doing here, Santos? Tell me the real reason you came.”
He drew in a deep breath and released it slowly. “I loved every minute we spent together, and I should have told you so. But when you had your future so carefully planned, I didn’t want to involve you in a life you’d soon regret. I just didn’t count on missing you so badly. The mistake was mine, and I made the wrong choice for us both. I should have talked to you until we’d found a compromise to make us both happy or we’d given up with mutual regret. But we should have done it together. I’ve been alone too long to understand that, which is no excuse.”
The sad light in his eyes touched her, but she remained cautious. “Isn’t it rather late for such valuable insights?”