“Jace,” I say breathlessly at his tentative smile. I feel a piece of my fear break off just at the warmth of seeing him so casually. “Fancy seeing you twice in a day.”
“Starlight,” he murmurs in a low tone, a hint of smokiness and promise within his voice. It causes me to shiver from more than the outside temperature. “I can’t stay long; Emmy was having trouble getting out the door so I could go to work. And I just remembered . . .”
At his remorseful expression, I reach for his forearm beneath his black coat. “It’s okay. I just wanted to say hi.”
“And I just thought I’d take the opportunity to give you this.” In his large, callused hand is clutched a piece of antique-looking paper. He extends it to me, and at his encouraging nod, I take and open it. I’m met with what must be Jace’s handwriting. It’s precise, the words on the paper clear: Twelve days. Twelve hours.
“I’m not sure I understand.”
“Have you been hearing the clock that seems to chime whenever we are around each other—that one time we kissed years ago, and again at the tree outside Town Hall, and again at In the Ring when you stopped by?”
I think back and nod my head in agreement. It’s odd, but he’s right. And every time I’ve heard a clock chime since the first time we met, I’ve thought of him. It’s not common to hear sounds coming from actual watches or clocks these days, unless it’s text notifications or alarms. Musing on the coincidence, my eyes trail a path to his hand, studying the clock tattoo that etched itself inmy mind long ago, the newly added vine work imprinting itself in my memory as well.
“I might have gotten a job,” Jace says, the words coming out in a rush.
I smile for him, a flash of hope bursting in my chest.
“In Florida,” he adds. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “There’s a company out there that wants me to design a collection of furniture pieces for them. My designs could end up in stores across the country. We’re still working out the contract, and I’ve been planning to go no matter what, but lately . . .”
“Jace, that’s wonderful!” What else am I supposed to say? My heart cracks, but my voice remains steady.
“Yeah. It should be what I’ve wanted for years.”
The words hit home. His amber eyes search mine, and I remember sitting across from each other in Four Leaf Cookies with crumbs between us. That night, I felt like dancing should have been everything I wanted. But it wasn’t. Everything changed when I saw Jace.
“Are you going to accept?” I ask.
The silence in the air reminds me of the frigid wind swirling between us. There have been moments since we reconnected when I’ve seen Jace slowly opening up to me. It’s made me nearly overwhelmed with the hope of it all. And now his decision to leave Birch Borough or make his home here just got an added layer of difficulty.
“I don’t . . . I’m not sure.” Jace looks at his watch again and sighs with frustration. “I really have to go. I’m late for a class.” His eyes lift to mine. “But you should know that I’m tired of fighting this, Starlight.”
“This?” I question, unsure if he means what I think he does.
“Yes, this. There’s something about the way we are with each other . . . The fact that you’re in my life again in and of itself feels like a miracle.” He nods slightly, as if bracing himself for what’snext. “There are twelve days left before Christmas Eve. That’s the day of our departure. We may not return. I want to make the best decision for Emmy, and growing up with her grandparents in Florida might be it. But for the next twelve days, I want to spend time with you, however much you have available. I know it isn’t fair to ask you to sacrifice your time for a guy who might be moving permanently to another state . . . And honestly, I’m terrified. But I still want to know you . . . as more than friends.”
In my frozen silence, Jace takes a deep breath, gathering strength. “I’m asking . . . if you can find twelve hours—or more; I’ll take every minute—over the next twelve days, I’d be grateful. I’m not sure I trust time to be on our side yet, but I want to believe there’s something magical in this reunion. Even if we’re only meant to be for this Christmas.”
His words sink deep as I take them in. Is Jace actually saying he wants to spend time with me? That he wants to linger with me in this strange time warp in which we’ve found ourselves? As my mind tries to comprehend what I’m hearing, I think of all the stories affected by time. The Nutcracker itself is influenced by the movement of the clock. At some point, Clara had to wake up. And maybe I will have to wake up from this daydream, too, and return to my regular life. But I’m willing to risk it because I need a Christmas miracle this year, not only for my studio but also for my heart.
“What do you think, Ivy?” Jace prompts me. His eyes are gleaming, a playfulness in them I haven’t seen since he returned to town.
I make up my mind in that instant. “You’ve got it.” I extend my hand for him to shake. “You’ve got the twelve days of Christmas—or in this case, the day before Christmas Eve—but in hours.”
Jace’s expression warms. Reaching out, his large hand wraps around my own. He bends closer, bringing his face toward mine.For a moment, I think he’s going to kiss me. He’s close enough that if I just lifted onto my toes, my lips would collide with his. For a moment, we linger in each other’s space. But then Jace straightens, a curl bouncing in front of his forehead.
“I need to go. Don’t want to be late.”
“Right, of course, time and all that,” I say with a smile, still reeling at how just the touch of his hand seems to change my perspective on how it feels to be close to him.
With a final gentle press of his hand over mine, he turns and walks away, heading in the direction of In the Ring. With his note clutched in my other hand, I hop-dance back into Marlee’s Books. I realize how cold I am as I spot Grey, her expression making it evident that she was a witness to my exchange with Jace. Her arms are crossed, and her grin is sweet, despite the hint of smugness in it.
“Let the record show that I believe this go-around is different.” She grabs one of the books on the counter next to her with a Post-it sticking out from the pages and holds it close to her chest. “We never know how much time we have, Ivy. Don’t waste it.”
Walking around the counter, I wrap her in a hug, despite her protests that I’m freezing, before grabbing my coat and dance bag and heading to the door. It jingles again.
“Bye, Ivy girl!” Luke yells from the back just as the door shuts. I wonder if he was listening the whole time and was waiting for his moment to speak up. I laugh and look toward In the Ring, viewing the building without apprehension for the first time in weeks. As I walk toward my own studio, I treasure the knowledge that the man I met ages ago is still in the present version of Jace somewhere. It feels like he’s been buried within a shadow of what he once was, but I see a hint of him returning.
Perhaps I’m only one woman, but there’s a magic that flows through this town, following the same path as the river that runsthrough it. If Jace is willing to try, and if we can get the support of all the townspeople who thrive at making everyone feel like they matter, I just might be able to remind Jace of who he is and what we could be, and maybe it’ll happen just in time for Christmas.
