Page 2 of Christmas Replay
It was the strangest thing, but I didn’t want him to leave. We’d been pretty slow after six, so I hadn’t seen anyone in a couple hours. And I found that I wanted to know a little more about him. Travelers fascinated me, and if he were hungry, the least I could do was share a turkey sandwich in exchange for his story.
“I insist,” I assured him. “Go have a seat, and I’ll bring it over.”
He settled into a table by the electric fireplace while I retrieved my lunch from the fridge, and I met him there, with plates and napkins.
“You’re very kind,” he said, accepting half of the sandwich.
“I’m nosy,” I told him. “Where are you headed?”
“My parents’ house,” he admitted. “They live up in up near the falls—past them, near the ridge—but with the way it’s snowing, it’ll take me forever to get up there.”
The falls.Only people who lived around here, or had visited here often, would call the actual Majestic Falls that. The town was named after them.
“Oh, it’s beautiful up there,” I said with a smile. “How long will you be staying with them?”
“Just through tomorrow,” he told me. “Then I’ll head back to the city—New York City.”
“That’s a long hike for just one night,” I said, surprised.
“Yeah,” he agreed with a shrug. “But you know, it’s family. My mom wanted me there for Christmas morning. Only my dad knows I’m coming, and it’s a surprise for her.”
“I bet she’ll be thrilled.”
He grimaced comically. “I hope so. So what are your plans for Christmas, since we’re being nosy.”
“Nothing, and that’s perfect,” I said with a laugh. “I’m going to curl up in a chair with a book, some hot tea and an electric blanket. Then I’m not moving until I reopen the shop.”
“That sounds really nice,” he said, his tone almost wistful. “I can’t remember the last time I relaxed.”
“What do you do?” I asked him.
“I’m a lawyer,” he admitted. “But please, don’t hold it against me.”
I laughed, then we both fell silent as we ate. It was more companionable than some meals I’d shared with friends. Something about this man comforted me, and I was very glad he’d stopped in.
The radio station changed songs then, and Taylor Swift’s version ofLast Christmasplayed softly through the speakers.
“I love this song,” he said. “Is that weird? For a guy to be a Swiftie?”
“No,” I replied. “I like this song, too. Though, I personally thinkWham’sversion is better.”
He stood and held out his hand to me. I smiled and took it, then suddenly, I was in his arms and we were dancing. We swayed together, our gazes locked as the twinkle lights I’d decorated with flashed and Taylor Swift serenaded our strange situation.
“I’m Cliff,” he whispered.
“Alissa,” I responded, my voice soft, as well.
“It’s been lovely to meet you,” he said.
“You, too,” I admitted. “I suppose this is where you tell me you have to get going?”
“I do,” he said sadly. “I’ve still got navigate up the side of a snowy mountain, and it’s already almost nine. I should have gone already, but something urged me to stop. I’m glad I did.”
“Nine? Is it?” I felt my eyes widen in surprise.
“Time flies when you’re having fun,” he said.
The song changed, and we stayed there, standing in each other’s arms, staring into each other’s eyes, as if neither of us knew what to do now.
