She found his scarf and looped it around his neck, her fingers brushing his throat, the intimacy of the motion punching through ten years of distance. “Come on. I’ll walk you.”
She waited while he zipped the suitcase, donned a jacket, and took a final look around the cabin. After all that, he leaned over the crate.
“G’bye, little roommate. Hope Benny gives you a good name.”
They stepped out into a hushed night, lit by the colored lights all over the evergreen trees. The Uber idled in front of the lodge, headlights casting a pale runway down the snow-packed drive.
In the kitchen window, she caught movement—probably MJ doing the dinner clean-up.
A few feet from the car, Jack stopped and put his suitcase down. He wrapped his arms around her and held on. She held her breath for…something. A promise, a date, a confirmation, a kiss.
“Safe flight,” she said into his coat.
“Merry Christmas, Cinnie.”
The old, most intimate nickname that he only used when they were alone, cut deeper than the goodbye.
He turned quickly when they parted, but she could have sworn she saw tears in his eyes.
He stepped to the car, opened the door, lifted a hand, and then climbed in.
A moment later, the taillights slid down toward the road and vanished past the pines. The sound of tires on hardpack faded until there was only the wind and her breath.
The first time he’d left at Christmas, she’d watched in shock, the moment making her heart feel like a glass dropped in slow motion, then shattered.
Tonight, she watched with eyes wide open and felt the sting in her throat that was merely a mix of grief and hope tangled together like knotted Christmas light strings.
As the car lights disappeared, she went back up to his cabin. Once Benny had gone home with Gracie and Red, she’d bring little No Name into the lodge for the night.
Inside, she let the warmth hold her, checking on the sleeping puppy.
Unable to resist, she sat on Jack’s bed again, feeling the sting of tears. Turning, she reached for one of his pillows and put herface in it, inhaling the familiar scent of pine and soap and her husband.
And she cried like the first time he left her, until all the tears were gone.
Much later,Cindy was surprised to find MJ still at the sink and cleaning up when she walked back into the mudroom.
“You sure are slow without me,” she said, kicking off her boots. “Where is everyone?”
MJ eyed her. “Gracie and Red went back up to their house to get Benny in bed, although good luck with that on Christmas Eve. Didn’t you see them?”
She shook her head. “I was with the puppy in Jack’s—in Cabin One. In fact, if everyone’s gone, I’ll go get him now.” She looked down at the boots she’d just shed.
“Wait.” MJ came closer, holding her dishtowel, searching Cindy’s face. “You’ve been crying.”
Cindy smiled. “You know I love a good Christmas goodbye.”
“Oh, hon. C’mere.” She put her arm around Cindy and walked her into the kitchen. “We’ll get the dog in a minute. You need some love.”
“I’m fine.”
MJ rolled her eyes. “There’s a little wine left. Want some?”
Cindy nodded and, a minute later, they were at the table with two glasses of red between them.
“So, how was it?” MJ finally asked.
Cindy shrugged. “He asked if we could maybe try again.”
