Christmas Carol

“And how do you feel about him?” Krissy asks again, and I look at her face and I don’t see judgment there. So, I answer the only way I can. With the truth.

“I think I might love him,” I finally admit. Saying the words out loud was harder than I’d like to admit, but they’re also freeing.

“What are you going to do, sis?” I let out a large heart-felt sigh.

“The only thing I can do.”

“And what’s that?” she laughs.

“I’m going to hide out at your house for a couple of days.”

“He’ll find you.”

“If I’m worth it to him, maybe,” I admit.

“Is that what you’re trying to do? See if you’re worth it?”

“Yeah…”

“Well, then, how about we bake some cookies. That always helps clear my head,” Krissy suggests.

“Sounds good, we need to plan the food for the town’s tree lighting ceremony anyway.”

“Awe work,” Krissy whines.

“No rest for the weary,” I agree, and we walk toward her kitchen. There are days I can almost forgive my mother for the way she treated me and then I’m reminded of all the time me and Krissy lost with each other and I know it’s impossible. Still, I’m really thankful that I have her now…CyrusNothing can humble you like Ida Sue Lucas calling you everything but the kitchen sink and telling you to get your head out of your ass before you lose the best thing that ever happened to you. If that wasn’t enough, she capped it off by blaming me as the reason her and Jansen don’t get to have sex, because Blue showed up with Meadow. Hell, my ears are still ringing.

She needn’t have bothered. I was going after Carol. I was just a punk and needed to work up the courage. I spent the day meeting the coach and some of the players of the Montana Moose. Then, I spent some more of that time yelling at Sam to work on getting me back with a team in the Majors. I have a doctor’s examination next week and it all hinges on how I’m healing. I feel like I’m fine, but who the hell knows. I guess I’m lucky this all happened in the off season. I’m just pissed that they traded me without giving me the chance to heal. I played nice, because I know I can’t afford to burn my bridges, but damn if I didn’t want to.

Sam got the brunt of it. I’m going to owe her big time. Maybe I’ll name my first born after her. The thought of kids should make me want to turn the car around—especially when the Kringle’s Bed and Breakfast comes into view. It doesn’t. For the first time in my life, I could see me settling down with a wife and kids and being happy. Especially if that wife is Carol. It’s happened fast, but I’m drawn to her and together we’re unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. I could be happy the rest of my life, as long as she’s beside me. My biggest problem is trying to convince her of that.

I pull into the driveway and shut off my car. If I’m going to stay in Mistletoe, I’m really going to have to think about giving up Eleanor, my Vette and finding me a SUV with four-wheel-drive.

I grab the flowers I bought off of some lady named Da’Nika downtown. She assured me the Baby’s Breaths and holly mixed in with the red roses would make Carol happy. I hope she’s right, but I’m starting to have my doubts. I walk through the front door easily. For some reason, I thought it would be locked. I guess that can’t happen since it’s a business. As I open the door, a bell jingles from above. I step inside, hoping like hell I can find some way to make Carol forgive me.

“I don’t want turkey for Thanksgiving, Krissy. I know it’s traditional, but we always end up throwing most of it out. You don’t even have that many guests booked so it will just be me and you for the most part. Let’s just do a ham,” Carol, calls over her shoulder as she comes into the room.

“Hey,” I murmur when her gaze comes up and she sees me. I watch her body go stiff and I see the hurt in her eyes.

“What are you doing here?” she asks, averting her gaze.

“I was hoping we could talk,” I respond lamely, walking toward her.

“I think we’ve kind of said everything there is to say, Cyrus.”

“Mi corazón, you through me for a loop. I wasn’t expecting—”

“Me to be a virgin, I get it. You know, although you obviously don’t feel the same, me being a virgin isn’t like some kind of dreaded disease. It just means I’m selective in who I want to be with.”

“And you chose me,” I answer, a feeling of pride in the words and I don’t bother hiding it. It does make me proud.