Christmas Wishes and Mistletoe Kisses(101)

Kneeling down, she was eye level with Nick and she could tell that he’d noticed her emotion. “I wouldn’t have missed it,” he said quietly to her in almost a whisper, and she felt like her chest would explode. “I caught the red eye last night and got in very early—it was the best I could do.”

She tipped her head back to try to keep the tears from falling.

“It’s okay,” he said into her ear, causing goose bumps down her arm. “I know by your actions that you’re not used to being able to trust people, and I haven’t given you much opportunity to trust me. But you can. You taught me how important it is to just be there.”

She nodded, trying to calm down and enjoy her complete relief.

Abbey sat next to Nick as they finished their craft—a small birdhouse. Nick had helped Max paint it, his fingers red even after wiping them off. It made her smile. Max had stood with the other students in his class and they all sang a song. Finally, there were refreshments. When it was time to say goodbye, Max hugged Nick a little longer than the other boys and asked Nick when he’d get to see him again. Nick had said that he wasn’t leaving anymore this week. It was Nick, not Abbey, who’d gotten him settled back at his seat. Then, they both said their goodbyes and walked into the hallway.

“What are you doing now?” Nick asked her.

“I was going to go shopping for teacher gifts for Friday, but that can wait. What’s up?”

“Feel like chatting with my mother?”

“Why?” She smiled suspiciously.

“She has… news. She wants us all together to tell us. I’m a little worried about it. We never know with her what she might be up to. I can’t do it alone,” he teased. “And, she said she likes you.” He smiled down at her. “We’re meeting for lunch at Lemaire.” Abbey had never heard of it before. He clarified, “It’s in The Jefferson Hotel.”

She had heard of The Jefferson Hotel. It was a grand hotel, built in the late 1800s and only a mile from the James River. It was breathtakingly beautiful inside with its marble floors and columns and stained-glass domes. There was nothing else like it in the city.

“I might need to change,” she said, worrying already that she didn’t have anything nice enough to wear. “I’m not sure I have anything… clean,” she said as they walked to the door.

“It’s right near Carytown. There are tons of dress shops,” he said, opening the door, the frigid cold hitting her and nearly taking her breath away. They walked until they were at his car. “Let me buy you something. Then you don’t have to worry about anything. It’ll be my treat for your company at a lunch where my mother is going to dominate all conversation.” He smiled.

She looked at him, deciding.

“Please?” he said, opening the passenger side and gesturing for her to sit. “We’ll come back and get your car after lunch.”

She got in.

The Mercedes started with a purr. “I really enjoyed that today,” he said as he backed the car out of its spot. “Max is really a great kid, Abbey. He’s so kind,” he said, pulling out onto the road and merging onto the highway. He smiled at her, the happiness lingering subtly on his lips as he drove.



* * *



Abbey hadn’t even known this shop was here—she’d never been down to Carytown for anything more than an ice cream or a ninety-nine-cent movie. Most of the shops here, while amazing, were completely out of her price range. She stood in the pristine dressing room, staring at the wooden hangers with the brass hooks that held a perfectly tailored pair of navy wool trousers and a matching blazer with a silky white top that Nick had picked out for her.

She slowly slipped off her jeans and sweater and tried them on, still unsure, immediately noticing how they felt against her. They fit like they’d been sewn together to match just her body. She slid on the coordinating high heels and looked in the mirror at the person staring back at her. Her reflection didn’t look a thing like her, and it startled her. Was this the kind of girl Nick dated? Was this what he’d want her to look like if they ever got together? He’d picked it out after all. She tried to imagine a time when she’d feel normal in clothes like these. Would they grow on her like the ballroom had? The trouble was, the ballroom was just a space, whereas how she dressed was a representation of who she was, and this wasn’t who she was at all. She ran her fingers through her hair and then dug around in her handbag for her powder and lip-gloss. She freshened up her makeup and fluffed out her hair.

“Or there’s this,” she heard from the other side, and Nick’s hand appeared above the dressing room door, a green dress in his hand. A shoebox slid toward her on the floor through the open space under the stall.