Page 37 of Christmas Charms
I busy myself with another gulp of my drink, because I can’t look Aidan in the eye. Gingerbread is one of the only things getting me through the holidays at this point.
“Really? Huh.” Josh shrugs, and then a light bulb seems to go off in his head. “Hey, the Palace Theatre is having a classic movie night the day after tomorrow. You two should go.”
I open my mouth to protest and let Aidan off the hook, but no words come out. Not a single one. Zero. My lips seem to freeze into a perfect, soundless O, like one of those porcelain Victorian carolers in a Dickensian Christmas village display.
Because the truth of the matter is that I want nothing more than to sit in a darkened theater and watch black-and-white Christmas movies with Aidan. I want to share popcorn from a giant bucket and feel a tingle when our fingertips collide. I want to watch shadows move across his handsome face and lose myself in the swell of theatrical music. I want to sink into one of the Palace Theatre’s red velvet seats and feel as if I’m falling back into the past—not simply a grainy, reel-to-reel motion picture past, butmypast, when things were so much simpler between Aidan and me.
I want those things more than I’ve wanted anything in a long, long time.
The bistro is bustling with a steady stream of customers, but an uncomfortable silence falls over our little table. The only discernible sounds are the twins slurping their mugs of hot chocolate and a muffled thud somewhere beneath the table, which is either Fruitcake shifting his position or Susan kicking her husband in the shin for prompting such a painfully awkward moment. My money’s on the latter.
I squirm in my seat. “Um…I don’t think…I mean…”
Aidan graciously interrupts my nonsensical stammering. “We could.”
My gaze flies to his, and all at once, the veil of our shared history seems to slip away and he’s looking at me with such an aching vulnerability in his moody blue eyes that my heart feels like it might break clean in two. Or maybe I’m mistaken, and this is what it feels like when a heart starts to mend itself and come back together, beautifully unbreakable.
My mouth is suddenly bone-dry.
I lick my lips.
“We could?” I say, and my voice is scarcely more than a whisper. I clear my throat and nod furiously. “I mean, yes.Yes.We could.”
“Okay, then.” Aidan nods. I suspect everyone at the table is staring at the both of us, but I can’t say for certain because wild reindeer couldn’t drag my gaze from his. “It’s a date.”
I beam, drunk on gingerbread and happiness. “It’s a date.”
Chapter Eleven
“It’s not a date,” Isay to Maya the following morning when we’ve finally managed to put an end to the incessant game of phone tag we’ve been playing the past few days. “Not a real one, anyway.”
Ever the optimist, Maya disagrees. “Of course it is. Didn’t you just tell me those were Aidan’s exact words?”
“I did, but I doubt that’s truly what he meant. It’s only an expression.”
Fruitcake plops his head into my lap, and I run my free hand over his silky ears. I’m sitting up in bed in my candy-cane pajamas, not quite ready to step out of my room and face the day. I’ve been sleeping like a rock the past couple of nights. It’s amazing how soothing a snowy silence and the soft hoots of owls outside my window can be, almost like a lullaby.
“Right, but given your history, I highly doubt Aidan would toss that word out unless he really meant it,” Maya says.
She’s right, I know she is, but for some reason I can’t let myself think about our movie night as an actual date.
“You know, Ash. It’s okay to wish for things. I know it’s scary, and I know you’re still tender after the whole mess with Jeremy, but you can’t stop dreaming or wishing for good things for yourself, especially at Christmas.”
“Believe me, I have enough Christmas wishes to deal with as it is.” I cast a fleeting glance at the charm bracelet, still anchored to my wrist. I’ve pretty much given up on trying to remove it at this point.
Maya’s words aren’t lost on me, though. Now—more than ever, perhaps—I’m fully aware of the power of Christmas wishes. I still don’t fully understand what’s happening to me or what the charm bracelet is supposed to teach me, but I know better than to wish for something without considering the full implications of the wish coming true.
As much as I’m drawn to Aidan, we can’t just pick up where we left off. Nothing has changed since he proposed to me all those years ago. His life is here in Owl Lake and mine is back in Manhattan. I don’t know why I have to keep reminding myself of this highly significant and extremely obvious detail.
“You have enough Christmas wishes to deal with?” Maya sighs. “What does that even mean?”
Where to start? “Right now, it means that I seriously need to find a way to get back to the city.Today.”
My boss called while I was at the Christmas tree lighting last night, and I didn’t get her voice mail until late in the evening when I got home from The Owl’s Nest. Her terse message put a prompt end to the walking-on-air feeling I’d had after Aidan’s invitation to the classic movie night. The bottom line: if I’m interested in the promotion, I need to come apply in person and tell her exactly why I think I’d make a good manager.
I’m fully aware the demand is a test of my loyalty and determination, and I can’t fail. I’ve worked too long and too hard in the charms department to give up on this chance of advancement now. Still, Manhattan is starting to feel farther and farther away the longer I’m in Owl Lake.
“Are the trains running yet?” Maya asks.
