Page 32 of The Christmas Ring
From the beginning with Vanessa, Ben hadn’t talked about Laura. Not any more than Vanessa had talked about Alan. But here, lost in the shelves of ancient words and fragile tomes, he seemed to let the past come to life. If only for a few moments.
“Laura was my high school sweetheart. She was there for our shop’s grand opening.” His smile softened. “She always thought our kids would run the place someday.”
Vanessa let that settle. “What happened?”
“She had health issues from the beginning. We found out she couldn’t have children, then a few days before her thirty-fourth birthday, she got her diagnosis.” He sighed. “She was gone ten months later.”
“That’s a lot.”
“I told you about my men’s Bible study. The guy who leads it helped me navigate that time. I never lost hope, but it took time.”
“So... eight years ago.”
“Eight summers. Summer was our season.” He reached out and touched Vanessa’s arm. “I never thought there’d be anyone else. I couldn’t imagine finding... you.”
“Me either.” Vanessa covered his hand with her own and their eyes held. “I never dreamed I’d be—”
“Excuse me.” A fancy woman in her late sixties stepped by them. “I need to see this shelf.”
Vanessa and Ben stepped in opposite directions to make room for her. Ben’s eyes met Vanessa’s and the two covered a laugh. So much for privacy. The woman sorted through a quick handful of books and grabbed an old copy of a Ray Bradbury classic. She held it up with the hint of a smile. “Carry on.”
Vanessa felt like a schoolgirl caught talking in the library. “She must be fun at the holidays.”
“Eccentric is always fun.” Ben chuckled.
Vanessa surveyed the store. No one else seemed to desperately need a vintage book from this section. For now, they were alone again. She couldn’t look away from Ben. She felt completely taken by him. “Where were we?”
Ben kept his distance, but he reached for her hand once more. “Right about here, I believe.”
“Yes. That was it.” She searched his eyes. Suddenly she no longer worried about being too honest with him. “You’re leaving in an hour. Why is that all I can think about?”
“Just for the night.” He never looked away. “I’ll take the treasures home to my dad and be back tomorrow afternoon.” He stepped toward her, almost closing the gap between them. “And tomorrow night...” He ran his thumb over her hand. “Tomorrow, could I take you out on a date?”
She could feel her cheeks blush. Something that happened often when she was with him. “I’d like that very much.”
“Okay then.” He smiled. “It’s settled.”
He bought the Walt Whitman and another one—an American classic poetry collection—for his shop back in Marietta. “It’ll be nice seeing it on the shelves,” he told her as they waited at the register. “As long as it lasts, anyway.”
Vanessa pulled her sweater closer. The bookstore was drafty and today was chillier than yesterday. “How come that one?”
“Because.” His eyes sparkled. “It reminds me of you. An American classic.”
Again, he looked like he wanted to take her in his arms, but Vanessa knew he wouldn’t. This was her hometown and people might catch on to the fact that Vanessa Mayfield wasn’t chumming around with merely a good friend. Anyone could see they were already so much more.
The store owner approached and rang up the sale.
“Mr. Wright.” Vanessa nodded at him. She cast a glance at Ben. Her look told him she knew the man. Vanessa looked at the owner again. “Are you ready for Christmas?”
“I am. My wife’s already cooking.” The man looked at Ben and then Vanessa. Clearly, he knew something was up. He winked at Vanessa. “Seems you found what you were looking for.”
Vanessa’s smile felt as genuine as the Georgia sun. She cast Ben another quick look and then she smiled at the shop owner again. “Yes, sir. I believe I have.”
Once they were out front, Ben handed her the Walt Whitman book. “To the only other person I know who can quote Mr. Whitman.”
Vanessa was touched to the depths of her soul. She took the gift and studied it. “Thank you.”
This time, Ben didn’t seem to care if the shop owner was watching. He drew Vanessa into his arms. She held on to him as tightly as he held on to her. Until the chill in the air disappeared and all she could feel was the warmth of his body against hers.
