Page 44 of A Christmas Mystery

I never told you this before, but the first time I saw you was back in middle school. I think you’d recently moved in with your Tee and so you didn’t know anyone yet. You were sitting on the brick wall outside school with your sketch pad all alone. Your hair was loose and falling all over you, and the sun was shining on it. You were the prettiest girl I ever saw in my life. I stood and stared, and maybe you sensed it because you glanced up and saw me. You smiled at me. It didn’t mean anything to you. You started drawing again and forgot about me. But I never forgot it. I never forgot you and your smile and your warm, vibrant heart. I’ve carried them with me through life. And no matter what else happens, I’ll keep carrying them with me always—along with everything we’ve shared this past year.

I’m not telling you this to make you feel guilty but so you’ll understand how much this year has meant to me. I need for you to be happy. You were happy with Chris, and that was enough for me. I want you to be happy again—whatever that looks like and no matter who it’s with. So when life gets hard and it feels like you’re alone with it, please know that you’re not. I’m always going to be here silently holding you in my heart.

I’ve completely fallen apart by the time I’ve read the message twice. I search my memory for the moment he described—me smiling at a boy in middle school—but I simply can’t remember it. So much of that first year after my parents died and I moved in with Tee is a blur. There was too much grief. Too much fear and confusion.

But he must have been in my grade or a couple of years above it if we were in middle school together.

It’s what I suspected, and it’s clear now he’s not going to tell me.

Not unless I’m ready to commit to something beyond an online correspondence. And I’m not. No matter how much these words have moved me, I also have Theo waiting. And he’s known. Real. Warm and strong and solid. He might not be as good with words as my pen pal, but that’s not the most important thing in the long run.

Theo is who I want.

For some reason, this morning has confirmed that realization in my head and in my heart. Maybe it’s a little strange that he was Chris’s best friend, but even that doesn’t matter as much as everything else.

I lost Chris, but I deserve to be happy. And I can see myself being happy with Theo.

When I’ve mopped my face again, I send a text to Theo.Are you busy tonight? You can come to dinner if you want. Or another night if it works better.

He answers immediately.Tonight is great. Just tell me what time.

***

THEO SHOWS UP AT MYfront door that evening at exactly 6:59. He’s wearing jeans and a brown V-neck sweater over a white T-shirt, and he’s giving me a wide, sheepish smile. He’s holding a bottle of red wine and a small red-and-white amaryllis in the cutest pot made to look like a Christmas gift.

I melt a little at the sight of him. And am even more certain that I’ve made the right decision. I can’t imagine wanting anyone else as much as I want this big, shy, warmhearted man.

He’s definitely in a good mood today. I can sense some sort of excitement shuddering beneath the surface of his relaxed, considerate manner.

I’m excited too. And his mood makes me even more so.

My kitchen isn’t large enough for major culinary productions, so I’ve made a variation of Tee’s posole in my slow cooker and baked some corn muffins as well as some simple chocolate cookies for dessert.

We drink the wine with our meal, and everything turns out perfectly. Theo enjoys it so much he has a second helping, and I experience the oddest kind of satisfaction at making him food he loves so much.

When we’re done, he helps me clean up and wash the dishes. Then we lounge together on my small couch and listen to music—one of my playlists of songs I’ve categorized as pleasant but not demanding full attention.

Theo reaches over to put an arm around me and pull me against him. I lean on him, feeling fond and cozy and not nervous at all.

We talked a lot over dinner, but the conversation has sunk into an easy lull. Rubbing my cheek against his soft sweater, I hear myself asking, “Do you remember the first time you saw me?”

I know why I’m asking, and it’s not because I’m trying to make it a competition with the romantic confessions of my pen pal. I simply want to know.

Theo has been idly stroking my hair, which is falling loose all over my back, but his hand grows still at my question. “Why?”

“I don’t know. I was just thinking about it. We’ve known each other a long time.”

“We have. But for a long time you were Chris’s girl, so I couldn’t...”

“I know.” I shift my position so I can peek up at his face. “Did you want to? Do... anything? Back then?”

He meets my eyes. Hesitant but not hiding. “I couldn’t let myself think about it. It would have been a betrayal of Chris.”

“Of course it would. I’m sorry. I wasn’t implying you’d ever have made a play for me or anything. I guess I’m wondering if this is entirely new for you or if you ever had any stray thoughts before.”

He swallows so hard I can see it in his throat. “I did. Have stray thoughts. But when you were with Chris, I didn’t let myself indulge them. But I’ve always thought you were... beautiful and incredibly kind and full of... of life.”

My face works at the surge of emotion. “You did?”

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