Page 2 of Under the Mistletoe
“Thank you.”
I rid myself of my bag and outdoor gear, squatting down onthe rug by the fireplace to wait for his return. I take in my surroundings,noting it’s a perfect mix of homey and bachelor pad. My mom told me he’d soldhis dad’s place, but I had no idea this is where he’d moved to.
“You still like it spoiled?”
“Huh?” I glance up at Jake, clueless as to what he means.
“Your coffee.” He raises the mug before handing it to me.“As much sugar and cream you like in it, it’s spoiled.”
With a smile, I wrap my hands around the mug, welcoming theheat.
“Yes, I still like it that way. I assume you still take itblack?”
“Only way to drink it.”
“Whatever.” I take a sip, then quickly swallow as I think ofmy parents. They must be worried sick. “Can I borrow your phone? I need to callMom and Dad.”
“Sure,” he answers, expression still grim as he passes methe cordless landline.
My father picks up on the first ring. “Sydney, is that you?”
“Hey, Dad.”
“Thank God. Where are you?”
“I couldn’t see a thing so I stopped at a neighbor’s house.”I steal a quick glance at Jake. “I’m at Jake’s.”
“Good. He’ll take care of you. You should stay the night andhead out when things calm down.”
Stay the night? I can’t stay here all night! Not withhim!“Um… I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“Okay. Just glad to know you’re safe. See you in themorning. Love you, punkin.”
“Love you, too.”
Hanging up, I pass the phone back to Jake. He accepts it,his eyes boring into me, mind lost in thought. I take him in, comparing him tothe image stored in my mind. It’s been ten years since I’ve seen or spoken tohim, but it hasn’t faded. He’s even more handsome than he was at age twenty.That one lock of his thick, wavy dark hair still curls over his forehead. Henow sports a closely-trimmed mustache and beard, but I’d recognize himanywhere.
Jake Maston was my first… everything. He was my first kiss,my first boyfriend, my first time. He wasn’t the one who got away, and for him,neither was I. I left him behind and I don’t think he’s ever forgiven me forit.
“Sydney George…” He shakes his head in disbelief. “Neverthought I’d see you again.”
“Yeah, well… I got sick of disappointing my folks.”
“They told me you were coming, but I didn’t believe it.”
I’m not surprised to hear he keeps in contact with myparents. My mom makes it her point of duty to give me updates on him.
“Yeah. My mother told me about Sue.” My gaze drops to therug. “I’m sorry. She was a good woman.”
Jake clears his throat. “She was. Damn good wife, too.”
“Again, I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you. What about you? I don’t see a ring on yourfinger.”
“No husband. Never been married either.” Uncomfortable withthe conversation, I fidget with the hem of my sweater.
“I see. You hungry? Your mom sent me some stew.”
