“Is that a good wow, or a bad wow?”
She laughed tremulously, and she gave his fingers another squeeze. “It’s an I-can’t-believe-this-is-happening wow.” She turned in her seat, facing him. “I was so afraid I’d lost you. So afraid I’d missed my opportunity.”
“I wasn’t going anywhere, Rachel.”
“But I rejected you. I ran away.”
“I knew you’d come back.”
“How?”
Fingers still laced together, he placed their joined hands on his thigh, just above his knee. “I just knew you. You were overwhelmed. But you’re tough, and persistent, and you don’t give up.” He glanced at her. “And here you are.”
*
Fresh tears shimmered in her eyes. Her lower lip quivered before she ruthlessly bit into it. “You’re making me cry.”
“That’s okay, as long as I can also make you smile and laugh.”
“You do. You’re the only one who can make me laugh.”
“We’ll have to broaden your circle of acquaintances then.”
She laughed, and they drove the rest of the way to Marietta in silence, but the kind of silence where it felt warm and safe and unbearably good.
“Your apartment is ready for you,” he said, as he turned off Highway 89. “Even managed to stick a few things in the fridge for you for the morning.”
“How did you manage that on Christmas Eve?”
“I know people.”
She grinned and looked out the window, excited to be back. Most of downtown Marietta was dark, with just the holiday lights shining on the turn-of-the-century-style streetlamps. But as they approached Paradise Books, her corner building glowed.
Rachel glanced at Atticus and then back to the bookstore. The window displays had been redone. She couldn’t yet see the details but they were filled with rich jeweled color and sparkling lights.
Atticus parked his SUV in front of the store. She jumped out of her side and went up to the window facing Main. The scene was spectacular, a vision straight from the pages of The Nutcracker. Heavy red velvet curtains framed the large Plateglass windows, the fabric pulled back with golden tassels allowing the rich crimson to ripple and swag. A legion of nutcrackers fought a rat army, while a delicate ballerina pirouetted above. Different versions of the book balanced on glass snowflakes. It was gorgeous and magical.
“This is incredible,” she exclaimed, as Atticus joined her at the window, her travel bag in his hand. “Who did it?”
“Sadie.”
“It’s amazing.”
“She changed the windows out last weekend, too.”
“Why?”
“She wanted people to pay attention, and it’s worked. Even before Lesley arrived, the bookstore was starting to get foot traffic. You’ve sold quite a few books.”
“I didn’t sell them,” she corrected. “So you’re telling me the bookstore stayed open this entire time?”
“Yes. I ran things the first week, and then Lesley and her sister arrived last Sunday, and Lesley took over.”
“She must think I’m awful.”
“No, not at all. She knows you have a career in California, and she had a great time here. She was in her element. And you wouldn’t believe the number of people who came to see her.”
“I’m not surprised. Everyone loves her.”
“People love the books, too. One person bought the entire Mark Twain series you had.”
“I didn’t know there was an entire Twain series here.”
“He paid over six hundred and thirty-five dollars for the set. I probably could have gotten more, but I didn’t want to jeopardize the sale.”
“You did all this for me.”
“I did it for us. I believe in us.”
She didn’t think she’d ever heard anything so lovely in her entire life. “I love the way you say ‘us.’”
“You didn’t a couple weeks ago.”
“I was terrified.”
He reached for her, and wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. “Not terrified anymore?”
“More terrified of missing out on the best thing I’ve ever known.” She stood up on tiptoe to kiss him. “You’re the best thing. You’re kind of amazing.”
“I know.” And then he kissed her, and it was a kiss that went on and on, and by the time he was done, Rachel was warm and tingly from head to toe.
“Merry Christmas,” she said, overwhelmed by the joy she felt. Everything in her was full of hope and light.
“Merry Christmas, Rachel. So glad you came back.” He unlocked the front door, flicked on the overhead light and handed her the key. “So what made you decide this is where you wanted to be?”
“Besides missing you?” she asked, stepping into the store.
He remained on the threshold. “Yes.”
She gestured to the store, and then the street covered in white powdery snow. “I realized I didn’t like my vision board. It wasn’t… me. And when I pictured what I wanted, and what I needed, it wasn’t the big office, or the large corporation. I need people, and love. I need you. I want to have what I lost when my mom died. Family. Traditions. Feelings.” She laughed even as she blinked back tears. “This is crazy. I haven’t cried in years, and now I can’t stop! I have so many feelings and oh, Atticus, I think I love you.”
“Good. Because I know I love you.”
He closed the door behind her and kissed her, and the kiss made her knees weak and her head spin. Rachel clung to his thick jacket, thinking she had to be dreaming. She’d been so alone for so long, locked inside of herself, locked in with her grief and somehow her heart felt wide open, open to love, love to change, open to a future she hadn’t even imagined could exist for her.
It was a miracle.
“Stay,” she whispered.
“We won’t get any sleep if I stay, and we’re going to need sleep if we’re to be in good form for Lesley’s tomorrow. We’ve been invited to Lesley’s for Christmas morning and we can’t not show.”
“You’re not leaving for Texas?”
“I’m going to catch a later flight.”
“Will Lesley mind if I show up uninvited?”
“No. She, like me, was hoping you’d find your way back to Marietta for Christmas. It’s one of the reasons Lesley came home.”
Rachel’s eyes filled with hot tears. “Everyone had such faith in me… faith I didn’t even have.”
“And yet you’re here.”
She felt like she’d swallowed the sun and moon and was full of light. But not just light. She felt a new calm, and strength. “Do you think my mom’s here?” she whispered. “Because I think I feel her.”
He wiped away one of her tears, and then another. “I wouldn’t be surprised. Even though she’s not physically here anymore, her spirit remains.”
“You believe that?”
“I d
o, and I believe she’ll always love you. Your mom wants you happy.” He kissed her gently. “And I do, too. I’ll be back tomorrow at ten. How does that sound?”
“Like I can sleep in.”
“Do you really sleep in?”
She grinned and shook her head. “No.”
“Didn’t think so. Good night, Rachel.”
“Good night, Atticus. Thank you for picking me up.”
“Anytime. Every time.”
*
Rachel’s head was still spinning as she climbed up the stairs to her apartment, stripped off her clothes and tumbled into her bed, which smelled sweet and fresh as if the sheets and pillowcases had just been washed.
She suspected someone had done that for her, too.
It was overwhelming because she wasn’t used to people doing things for her. Ever since her mom got sick, Rachel had been the one to take charge, make plans, get things done. And now people, who were almost still strangers, were doing things for her.
It boggled her mind.
And yet it also felt incredibly good. To think she might actually be important to someone… to think she might belong somewhere…
Rachel fell asleep, humming with warmth, and brimming with gratitude.
*
Lesley lived in a big handsome house with tall white columns on Bramble, just a few blocks from Bramble House Bed and Breakfast, and Lesley was exactly as Rachel remembered—short, slightly round, with a sweet face, smiling eyes, and gray curly hair.
When she spotted Rachel behind Atticus, she gave her the biggest hug. “Oh, my goodness, what a gift this is. So very, very glad to have you with us this Christmas.”
“I almost didn’t make it,” Rachel confessed, following Lesley into the house. “My flight was one of the few that got out last night.”
“So glad you did. I was hoping to see you, and Atticus was so sure you’d come.”
They both shot Atticus a glance, and he shrugged, smiled, and excused himself saying he needed to put the champagne in the refrigerator.
“I tried to call you,” Rachel said. “I left a couple messages so don’t be surprised when you get back to Australia. All is well, I just wanted to talk.”
“And now you’re here. What can I tell you?”
“This is probably not the best time. It’s Christmas and you’re making breakfast—”