Page 47 of Christmas Charms
“One more thing.” I rest my mittened hand on Fruitcake’s smooth head and he gazes up at me with his melting brown eyes. “I’m keeping the dog.”
After talking to Maya, I have just enough time to get home and change for classic movie night at the Palace. I’m glad it turned out this way because too much time on my hands would have given me time to debate the “date or non-date” quality of this evening’s plans.
The whole thing was Josh’s idea, so I’m certain it falls into the non-date category. But the more time I spend with Aidan, the more confused I am about my feelings for him. Because I’mdefinitelyfeeling something, and anything more than simple friendship is far too worrisome to consider. Once the holidays are over, I’ll be right back in Manhattan, at Windsor Fine Jewelry, selling silver charms. As nice as this holiday is, it’s just that—a holiday. Thanks to the magic of the bracelet, it barely even feels like real life anymore. Somewhere deep down, I’m not so sure it is. Maybe once all the wishes come true, I’ll wake up back on the train beside Betty and find out it was all a dream.
The thought makes my stomach churn, so I push it out of my mind and give Fruitcake a goodbye kiss on the head. It leaves a faint lipstick mark behind, just between his ears, and I leave it instead of trying to wipe it away. He looks ridiculously cute, like Cupid in canine form.
No Cupid necessary,I remind myself.This is simply a friendly movie outing.
But when I make my way to the living room, I find Aidan already there, chatting with my mom and dad as casually as if the past eight years never happened. And when he turns his gaze on me, his attention snags immediately on the vintage heart brooch pinned to the lapel of my coat.
“Pretty.” He reaches to give the Victorian charm hanging from the center of the pin a little tap. The heart swivels, catching the light from my mom and dad’s Christmas tree, and something swells deep in the center in my chest.
“It’s one of mine,” I say, and when he looks confused, I elaborate. “I designed it.”
“Wow, that’s incredible.” He angles his head to get a closer look. “It’s beautiful.”
All my emotions seem to bottle up inside my chest. I’m not sure why it means so much to me that he’s noticed and admired the brooch, but it does. “Thank you. The original piece was vintage. I like taking old things and making them new.”
“Ashley does lovely work.” My mom gestures to the necklace she’s wearing. It’s a rose gold locket I made for her last year for Mother’s Day. “I hope the executives in charge of Windsor realize what a great jewelry designer they have in the charms department.”
I shake my head. “It’s not like that, Mom. I help customers choose which charms to put on their bracelets and other pieces. I don’t do any real jewelry design.”
“That’s a shame.” My mom looks disappointed, even though I’m certain we’ve had this conversation before.
“It’s only a hobby,” I remind her.
“If you say so, dear. But something tells me it’s a little bit more than that.” Mom gives her locket a reverent pat.
“Shall we go?” I say to Aidan. I’m ready to leave before this conversation turns into a deep dive into my career.
Windsor Fine Jewelry oozes prestige. If I want to work with jewelry, it’s the place to be. Of course, I just willingly walked away from a chance at a promotion, but that’s okay. So what if I’m not a manager? I still have a job at one of the most legendary jewelry stores in the world. The necklace I made for my mom is just a little trinket.
Still, a warm glow of pride wraps itself around me as Aidan and I head toward the Palace. I like that he’s noticed my charm pin, and I love how much my mother’s locket means to her. I can’t help it. If I think really hard about it, I can’t remember the last time my actual paying job gave me the same feeling of creative satisfaction. As much as I love helping customers choose their charms, it’s just not the same as designing something myself.
Windsor is the last thing on my mind when we get to the movie theatre and load up on popcorn, Junior Mints and whipped eggnogs topped with a generous sprinkling of nutmeg. The showing is a double feature of classic Christmas movies—White ChristmasandHoliday Inn. From the moment I nestle into my plush red velvet seat, I feel like time is moving backward. The fashion onscreen is absolutely dreamy, all full swishy skirts with nipped-in waists and glamorous, feminine silhouettes. Just the sort of retro elegance I love.
And the jewelry! There are brooches, delicate watches and intricately designed hair ornaments. I’m in heaven. I turn a smile toward Aidan, but when I do, I find him watching me instead of paying attention to the screen.
My breath catches in my throat. “What is it?”
“I’m just glad we’re doing this, that’s all,” he says, and the wistfulness in his tone makes my stomach flip.
“It’s been a long time,” I whisper.
“Too long.” His expression turns serious while a song and dance number begins on the big, flickering screen in front of us. In the periphery of my vision, Bing Crosby and Danny Kaye are singing about falling in love at Christmastime, but Aidan’s gaze holds me in a way that makes it impossible to look away.
And then, in a voice that’s scarcely more than a tremulous whisper, he says, “I should have fought for you, Ash.”
I swallow hard. “Aiden…”
But he’s not finished, and I’m not sure I want to hear the rest. I’m not sure I can stand it. Dancing around our past is much easier than facing it head-on, because the more time I spend with Aidan, the more I’m beginning to wonder if I made a mistake all those years ago.
“I could have asked you to stay…or I could have waited, but I didn’t do either of those things,” he says, and his smile is suddenly so sad that I’m furiously blinking away tears.
I shake my head.Don’t say any more. Please don’t.“It wasn’t your fault. It was mine.”
“That’s not true, no matter what I tried to tell myself after you left.” He reaches to cup my face in the dark theatre. “It was easier to just close myself off. So easy that I didn’t quite realize that was the choice I’d made until you came back. Being here with you again makes me wish I’d done things differently.”
