Page 50 of 5 Golden Flings

“Watch me.”

“Fine. Go on then!” He shouted at her as the dam seemed to break. “Rush off to the office where you can bury yourself in your work. Go find your Santa and save the day so everyone will love you and you can ignore your personal problems. That’s what you’re best at.”

Alice’s jaw dropped open a moment before she recovered. “Have fun finding some other way to occupy your time until you head back to Nashville.”

She spun on her heel and walked out of his bedroom. He called out her name, but she didn’t turn around. She marched straight out of the house and down the street, refusing to look behind her. She didn’t have the luxury of looking back and living in the past the way Foster did. She had to look to the future and pulling this parade together.

She also didn’t look at anyone else as she made a beeline for her house. Yes, she was wearing a half-zipped cocktail dress with mussed hair and probably raccoon eyes from last night’s mascara. Yes, she had one stocking hanging out of her purse and trailing behind her. People were out and about, getting ready to start their work day, and she was certain she was getting a few odd looks, but it didn’t matter.

Once she got inside her house and slammed the door shut behind her, she felt like she could finally take a deep breath. She dropped her bags to the floor and pressed her back against the hard wood that separated her from Foster and the rest of the town. And with the breath came the tears.

“Foster, why don’t you get dressed and I’ll make you a cup of coffee. You’ve been moping around the house since Alice ran out of here half-dressed yesterday morning.”

Foster looked up at his dad standing in the doorway. He’d avoiding discussing their fight with his father so far. He still wasn’t really ready to talk about it. “Dad, I don’t?—”

“Now. We need to have a talk.”

He sat, stunned as his dad disappeared down the hallway. Leo hadn’t taken that tone with him since he was a teenager. It seemed to be time for another early morning ass chewing. And honestly, he probably deserved this one too. He’d done nothing but brood about it for the last twenty-four hours with no real answers.

As instructed, Foster cleaned up and pulled on a fresh pair of jeans with his favorite Vanderbilt sweatshirt. By the time he stumbled into the kitchen, his father was sitting there with his own cup of coffee and another waiting at the empty seat across from him.

“You know, when your mom left and you said you didn’t want to celebrate Christmas anymore, I thought it would be a phase. You were only nine and your therapist said that supporting this choice would help you process your grief. And frankly, I was struggling enough to deal with my marriage falling apart so suddenly. So I listened to him and let it go even though it felt wrong. But then a year turned into two, into ten, and into twenty years. And it’s gone too damn far.”

“You can’t make me celebrate Christmas, Dad.”

“No, no, you’re right,” Leo said. “And if I thought for one second you actually disliked Christmas, I’d shut my mouth. But I don’t think you do. I think you love Christmas just as much as you did when you were little. But you’re angry and you’ve never been able to confront your mother with your anger. So you focused all your pain and frustration at a holiday that’s really just a stand in for her.”

Foster took a sip of his coffee and considered his father’s words. He was right to a point. He’d tracked down his motherseveral years ago and found her living off the grid in Oregon with some guy. He could’ve gone there, or called her. Said his piece. But he never wanted to give her the satisfaction of knowing how much she’d hurt him. He didn’t think it would make any difference.

“I know how it feels. I’ve imagined dozens of times what I’d say to her if I had the chance. But holding onto the anger this long is like putting the poison into your own glass instead of hers. I’m sorry I screwed up my marriage, Foster. I never meant to do anything that would cause you this much lasting pain. I’ve numbed my own in the only way I knew how, and that didn’t work either, so I don’t have a lot of room to talk when it comes to coping mechanisms. But I can’t sit back and watch you ruin something good. I understand it isn’t that easy to change after all these years, but for the first time you have a real reason to try. Alice is worth the effort, Foster.”

“I don’t know that she wants me to try, Dad. We said some pretty ugly things to each other yesterday. If I were her, I’d tell me to go to hell.”

“That’s because she cares about you and doesn’t think you feel the same way by refusing to help. Words aren’t going to convince her at this point, either. It will take action.”

Foster sighed and sat back into his chair. Could he do it? For her?

“Think on it, son,” Leo said as he got up from his chair and headed into the kitchen. “Just don’t think on it too long. The parade starts at eleven.”

Glancing down at his watch, Foster swallowed the last of his coffee and headed for the door.

Of course, there were people everywhere along the parade route, which ran between his house and the high school where it kicked off. Foster should’ve expected as much and circumvented the town square, but now he was in too deep to turn back.Crowds were perched along every sidewalk and loaded into the back of pickup trucks in the parking lots. There were folding chairs littered across the lawns at the courthouse and the library.

Once he got through the spectators, he had the to fight the people in the parade itself. Fifty-some high schoolers in marching band uniforms were loitering around the high school football field with their instruments. Folks queued up for the parade were tacking up the last bits of sparkly garland and other decorations on their parade floats and cars. The local ladder truck from the fire department had a huge wreath on the grill and a tree mounted to the top of the ladder. There were horses... baton twirlers. Anything and everything but what he was looking for.

He was winding his way through a group of elderly men dressed up as Christmas elves and snowmen when he finally laid eyes on Alice. She was wearing a hunter green wool coat with a reindeer antler headband holding back her auburn hair from her face. She was in full work mode—directing people to one place or another, helping the participants queue up in order, and talking to a mysterious third party through the Bluetooth piece in her ear.

He was just about to shout her name when he saw her turn and make a beeline to hug Santa Claus. Well, it was sort of Santa Claus. Whomever was wearing the costume was tall and skinny and far too young to pull it off. Foster was far from old and jolly, but this kid couldn’t be more than twenty and a hundred and thirty pounds soaking wet. He looked more like a candy cane in the red and white suit.

“Thank you so much, Simon,” he overheard Alice say to him. “I know this isn’t ideal for either of us, but we couldn’t have the parade without you stepping up, so I appreciate it.”

Santa flushed bright red beneath his synthetic white whiskers. “We couldn’t disappoint the kids, Miss Alice. I’ll justwait over by the sleigh,” he said as he spied Foster over Alice’s shoulder.

She turned to look behind her and stopped short when she saw Foster. He wasn’t sure how he expected her to react after the way they had left things, and she didn’t seem to know how she felt either. Her eyes were wide at first, and then her jaw tightened and her mouth clamped shut.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” he asked.

“Sure,” she said, immediately bouncing back into the professionally perky expression that he despised. “I only have a few minutes before the parade starts, though.”

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