Page 71 of Meet Me at Christmas
Stella slipped on her coat and jumped in the car, driving off to the tree lot. The whole way there, she talked to Pop, hoping he could hear her. “Are you here, Pop?” she asked aloud. “I wish you could show me.” She smiled as happiness bubbled up. “I got your letter. It was good to hear you again. You said you’d try to come back to us. Please try harder.”
When she arrived at Christmas, Henry was waiting for her in the parking lot. She cleared her throat and gave him her full attention when he walked over to the car.
“What’s up?” she asked as she got out.
He reached for her hand. “Come with me.”
She took his hand and followed his lead. “What are you up to?”
He led her to a smaller barn at the edge of the property that the town used for weddings and intimate holiday gatherings. When they went inside, a band was playing for no one.
“Are we dancing again?” she asked, a flutter tickling her chest at the idea of having his arms around her once more.
He walked her to the middle of the empty barn and stopped under a ceiling of beams hung with bundles of pine and holly. There were candles along the floor, surrounding them.
“What is this?” she asked.
Henry took both her hands in his, those blue eyes swallowing her. “I don’t know what happened to us, but what I do know is that you are the brightest star in my dark sky. You’re the one person who can turn the light on inside me, and I never want to be without you. When I look at you, I see sunsets on the porch swing, long dinners together in the grass out back, and a house full of kids.”
The air left her lungs, her insecurities surfacing as if to drown her.
He seemed to catch her trepidation immediately. “I mean… I’m not trying to push you into anything. But we were so good together, Stella. I remember it. It was amazing. But even before I remembered, I knew. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted.”
Emotion caught in her throat, but she forced herself to speak. “What if I can’t give you what you want?”
The band continued playing, but the whole scene was awkward.
“What do you think you can’t give me, Stella? I only want you.”
She could barely look at his pleading face. She’d heard Pop’s voice telling her to make things better, and she thought she could, but it was all too difficult. She’d achieved everything in life. She followed her dreams and made them happen. Except for that one dream that, for whatever reason, she wasn’t allowed to live. A part of her hurt too much for everything she’d lost, a part of her that wanted nothing more than to board that plane to Hamburg. She couldn’t face this. Trying to explain would mean she’d have to deal with the reality of what they would face in the future, and their relationship now was too new. Her confession would certainly be too heavy for the two of them to withstand.
“I can’t do this, Henry,” she said, the words barely audible. “I have to go.”
“Don’t run away from me,” he said, tugging her arm gently. “I planned all this to show you how serious I am. I’ll do anything it takes to try again. Iloveyou.”
She pulled out of his grip. The doctor visit confirming the miscarriage, the diagnosis, the loss of their child—whom she’d wanted to name Clara if it was a girl and Dawson if it was a boy—all of it rushed over her. She and Henry could never simply start over because they had too much history. As she ran out of the barn, tears streaming down her face, she could no longer ignore the loss of the little family they’d been trying to start.
Sure, the traveling life wasn’t what she’d wanted to begin with, but it freed her from having to experience all these emotions that still, after so many years, were too much to bear. She stopped down the path from the barn, her hands on her knees, and squeezed her eyes shut, but only succeeded in conjuring up the face their child might have had. The child who would never know how it felt to ride on his or her daddy’s shoulders or spin around while Stella made pottery or gardened behind the farmhouse.
In that moment, she knew. She wasn’t running from Henry only to save him; she was also running from her own devastation. Because what Henry wanted was what she’d wanted as well.
* * *
Stella had spent the last hour in the bathroom, showering to hide her emotional state from Mama. She stood under the hot stream of water praying for relief. She leaned against the side of the shower and let the sobs come, the deluge of hurt and disappointment ravaging her.
Somehow, both she and Henry had been spared Henry’s sadness—he didn’t remember the worst part of their life together, and she hadn’t had to deal with the pain of telling him and seeing how it hurt him. But, in a way, she relived it every time she saw that loving look in his eyes.
She stood in the steamy shower until there were no more tears to cry. When she got out, she wrapped herself in a warm towel, closed her puffy eyes, and breathed in the scent of soap. It was easy to think she could make things better or start over, but, emotionally, she just couldn’t yet. If ever.
She needed to get back to a sense of normalcy if she wanted to survive the holiday. It would already be difficult without Pop and Lily, and she had to be strong for Mama. When she felt as if she’d finally gotten herself together, she left the bathroom, got dressed, and went to Pop’s desk, where she dove straight into her email to keep her mind busy. To her surprise, there was a message from her editor. She opened it.
Stella!
I know it’s the holidays, but I couldn’t help myself and I opened your email. I just read over the article and it’s incredible. I sent it immediately to Steven and it only took him twenty-five minutes to come back to me to tell me that you’re getting the President’s Award. I’m so happy for you! So we’ll need to push back the Hamburg trip a few days and fly you to New York so you can accept the award and the promotion. Start working on that speech!
Congratulations!
A.
