Ethan glanced at his family. Pearl was trying to get Collin to pose with her and Valerie while handing her phone to his mom. She held tight to Collin, and he squirmed, not wanting anything to do with the picture. She said something, her face twisted in frustration, and he settled in.
Valerie’s face had fallen at her comment, and she had to force a smile. When the picture was done, she whispered in Collin’s ear. He leaned into her as if she was his safe space.
Things would be perfect if Ethan could take Pearl out of their lives.
“I wish I’d never met Pearl,” he said out loud. A shiver raced across every inch of his skin–it felt like a slither, and he shook violently.
Lux gasped. She typed furiously as one end of the ribbon began dissolving on the screen and the curls loosened.
“Uh.” Nick tugged on the beard and let it snap back in place. “That was big.”
“So big!” Lux agreed.
Nick fisted his hands. “This doesn’t feel right.” He squeezed his eyes shut.
“Hello, Moose Hollow!” called the Mayor into the microphone.
“I have to go.” Ethan was supposed to be on stage with Valerie. He’d promised he’d be there to hold her hand, and he never wanted to break that promise. He took off at a jog.
“Wait!” Nick called, but Ethan waved him off. He had to get to Valerie before she stepped on stage.
“I have to be there!” He hurried, intent on making it in time and being the man Valerie could count on.
CHAPTERTHIRTEEN
Valerie shivered, and goosebumps broke out on her arms as a cold breeze went down the back of her neck. Strange. The sun was out, and they’d had a calm morning. The sudden wind was vicious, and it made her shiver just once before it moved on. She adjusted her wrap and smiled for another picture with an adoring fan.
Not her fan, mind you; Mom’s and Dad’s fans.
Which was … awesome!
She’d tossed and turned last night in anticipation of this event, going through a lot of worst-case scenarios. When she went to a therapist, he’d told her that she did those things to pre-grieve, pre-mourn, or pre-feel the disappointment that would come. Doing so made it easier for her to deal with a bad situation should it arise. She couldn’t remember doing that before her parents died, and he claimed it was a new defense mechanism she’d created to cope with life.
Was it really coping or making things harder, she’d wondered as she paced the floor at three a.m. Sleep would have been great, especially now that she’d seen her face on screen a hundred-plus times. She had bags under her swollen eyes–swollen because people said the nicest things about her family and made her cry.
What would have happened if she’d reached out to these fans when her parents died? Would they have eased the pain with their memories? Like the woman who said her mom and dad’s duet was the song she danced to with her husband every night–that was the sweetest, best way to remember her parents. They were people who created love, put it to music, and shared it with the world.
Ethan sidled up next to her at the bottom of the stairs to the stage. He was out of breath and grinning like a fool. She lifted one side of her mouth in a lopsided grin. This guy! He was the best. “Did you make your Christmas wish; it’s Christmas Eve, after all,” she asked playfully.
He nodded. “Let’s hope it makes the holidays run smoother.”
She crossed her fingers and held them up for him to see.
“Where’d my family go?” he craned his neck to see around those clustering in for a look at her. So far, everyone had been respectful–shy even.
“Your mom said she was going to try the cocoa line again and see if it had gone down any.” She brushed her hair over her shoulder. She’d decided to wear it in her mother’s signature barrel curls. All afternoon she’d been told she was the spitting image of her mother.
A blessed day if ever there was one.
Ethan eyed the crowd that huddled close. “How are you holding up?”
She lifted her shoulders as she breathed in and dropped them as she breathed out. “I’m doing okay.” She stifled a yawn. “How about after this, we go back to The Christmas Room, and I nap on your shoulder?”
He bobbed his head. “My Christmas wish is already coming true.” He leaned over and brushed a kiss on her cheek. So far, he’d kissed her temple, her hair, her hand, her fingers, and her nose. She'd light the stage on fire if she had to wait much longer for him to find her lips. The man was hot! He had no idea how hot he was, with his work muscles all firm under his coat and his chiseled jaw. And those eyes! They spoke to every part of her.
If she wrote music, she’d dedicate a song to them.
She paused–that wasn’t such a bad idea. Music was in her blood. Gosh, how long had it been since she’d held a guitar? Her mother would be appalled. She smiled at the thought. When her mother was aghast, the whole world held its breath.
