Page 21 of The Twelve Dates of Christmas
“No,” Matt agreed ruefully. “I didn’t.”
“I never denied it was a mistake,” Kate told him.
“I know.”
“It was the worst mistake I’ve ever made,” said Kate.
“I deserve that,” Matt allowed. “I was in a terrible place and I took it out on you because you were the closest person to me.” He held his hands up in surrender before Kate had a chance to jump in. “I’m not excusing my behavior,” he said quickly. “I’m just explaining it. But we both live in this village and it’s time we buried the hatchet. Preferably not in my head.”
“Are you saying all this just to get your hands on my brownies?” asked Kate.
“No,” said Matt. “I’m sayingall thisbecause I want my friend back.Andbecause I want your brownies in my café.Andbecause I can’t keep pretending not to see you when you hide in the bushes to avoid me!”
He grinned.
“I am sorry,” he added.
His expression was utter sincerity. Kate could see the boy he had been, beneath the man he had become: the boy who had been her best friend in the world, the boy on whom she could never truly turn her back.
“Apology accepted,” said Kate, resigned.
Laura was right; they were real grown-ups now and it served nobody for Kate to hold on to a grudge. That said, she wasn’t about to dive right in and declare him a confidant; they would have to dig back down to the foundations and build up. But their mutual love for Laura, Ben, and Mac was a pretty solid platform to start from.
Kate ushered her disheveled father back into the kitchen for the second time.
“I know we can’t just pick up where we left off,” said Matt, as though reading her mind. “I’ll take the smallest, shallowest friendship you’ve got, as long I’ve got something.”
“I’m going to have a cup of tea,” said Kate. “Stay for one, if you like.”
She turned and walked toward the kitchen, leaving the front door open. She knew that Matt would follow.
“I’ll make brownies for the café,” she called without looking back. She could hear Matt’s footsteps behind her.
“But I don’t come cheap,” she added. “And I’ll expect free coffee for life.”
She turned then and saw Matt smiling at her. Kate smiled back.
•••••
It was a forty-five-minute drive to the ice rink. There was no time to straighten her hair, so she scrunched it up into a loose curly topknot. She wriggled into a pair of jeans and pulled on a red sweater—courtesy of the Knitting Sex Kittens—with silver Christmas trees around the neck, cuffs, and bottom. She applied a slick of red lipstick to complement the jumper, and after a squirt of expensive perfume she was ready to go.
Kate dashed out of the house without a second to spare. It was dark and cold and as the heaters blew furiously to clear the windscreen, she considered blowing off the date for a glass of red and some bad TV. But then she remembered how it had felt to be stood up, and she resigned herself to a night of looking like a tit on the ice.
Kate arrived as an ice hockey session was finishing up. The rep from the Twelve Dates team was slipping through the crowd of love-hopefuls that had converged at the gates and marking people down on her clipboard. Occasionally she would usher a disgruntled dater away from someone they clearly preferred the look of and deliver them to the date they had been assigned.
The rep—a girl young enough to be the daughter of some clients—ticked Kate off her list and pointed her toward Anthony, who looked relieved when he saw her and gestured to the skates he was holding by their laces. Kate smiled as she pushed through the expectant throng, some faces familiar from the cooking night.
“Hi,” said Anthony. “I got you a six and half before they all went.”
He handed the boots to Kate.
“That’s amazing!” she said. “How did you know what size shoe I wear?”
He laughed.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “I’m not a crazy stalker. I guessed you’d bearound a size six from your profile stats and your build in the photo.” He shrugged. “You don’t find many five-foot-five women with size eight feet.”
It was Kate’s turn to laugh.
