Christmas Wishes and Mistletoe Kisses(114)

“Because he loved you. He loved you so much. That business was the very best he had to give. It was what he’d spent most of his life working toward. So when it came time to figure out who got what, guess who got what he loved most? But not because he wanted you to run it, because it was the grandest gesture he could make to show his love for you. When parents say they’d give you the world—well, he gave you his. In the best way he knew how.”

Nick sat silently, digesting this information. Abbey reached over and grabbed his hand, hoping he was okay. She wanted to cry for him, to sob for the loss of his father because it was clear how much Nick loved him. What she’d only now realized was that Nick showed his love by how much he worked. Her mind raced to all those things he’d done for her—the pies on Thanksgiving, the trips around town, the scarf, the clothes, the arranged drivers, the nights at his home, Gramps’s money—it was all his way of showing he cared. And with his father’s company—he’d make himself sick with sleepless nights and barely eating just to show his father how much he loved him.

“I’m sorry to have brought the conversation around to this,” Susan said. “Please don’t let it put a damper on this wonderful night. Your music was incredible. I hope you will play it for Caroline tomorrow. I’m sure she’d love to hear it.”

Robin walked around and kissed her brother on the cheek. “I loved it,” she said with a smile. “It’s been a big night in many ways. I think I’ll set out Santa’s gifts and head off to bed.” She grabbed James’s arm and blew a kiss to everyone with her other hand as they made their way to the doorway leading to the stairs.

Susan put her hand on his shoulder. “Thank you for playing it for me,” she said. Then she gave Abbey a little smile and left with Carl.

It was just Abbey and Nick. There they were in the same place they’d first met; it seemed like a million years ago. She got up. He swiveled around still sitting on the piano stool, facing her as she stood in front of him, and wrapped his arms around her waist. As he looked up at her with those gorgeous blue eyes of his, his stubble showing on his face at the end of the night, she thought how different he looked to her now. She felt like she knew him—she knew the way he smiled, the lines at the corners of his eyes, the way his hands felt in hers. She put her arms around his neck and pulled him to her. When she did, she could feel his body relax.

The staff was moving around them, cleaning, the clinking of dishes and the rustling of bags filling the air. “We should probably get Max’s Christmas set out and call it a night,” she said, still holding him.

He squeezed her tighter.

“Can I tempt you with cookies?”

He looked up at her and smiled, his eyes so tired. She wanted to go upstairs with him, to get into comfortable clothes, to curl up beside him and fall asleep, or… something else, but she pushed those thoughts out of her mind. Yes, Nick was a talented composer, but she doubted he would make his millions publishing music. She didn’t live in his world, and she didn’t know how to give him options. He had to decide. So going upstairs with him tonight would only make it more heartbreaking when he left. And she had to face the fact that all of this would be over tomorrow.

She pulled him up and together they left the room.



* * *



“Mama!” Abbey heard through her sleep. “Mama!”

Abbey opened her eyes and took a minute to register where she was. Last night, she’d left Nick with a kiss in the hallway and climbed into bed with Max. With the previous night of not sleeping mixed with the events of Christmas Eve and the bedding she’d bought for the bedroom at Nick’s, she hadn’t had much of a chance to contemplate things, and sleep had consumed her almost immediately. She sat up and rubbed her face.

“Good morning, baby,” she said, rubbing Max’s arm.

“It’s Christmas!” Max said, as if she’d forgotten.

“Yes,” she said with as much excitement as she could muster for him. Sleeping in that bed had made her feel like she hadn’t slept in years, and she could stay right there for days. “Let me quickly get ready so that I’m somewhat presentable and we’ll go downstairs. Put your clothes on and I’ll get your teeth and face in a minute.”

After they’d gotten ready, Abbey and Max headed downstairs—the glorious smells of breakfast wafting toward her—and her tummy rumbled. She’d arranged Max’s two-wheel scooter, his iPad, and his Willie Mays baseball card beside Thomas’s specially made craftsman building kit, his child-sized drivable jeep with working headlights and CD player that took up most of the room, and his collectible train set.