Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

Even though Foster had delivered on his promise not to keep her up past midnight, the alarm on Alice’s phone rang far too early. Rolling over, she silenced it and glanced at the half dozen pop up messages on her screen. She’d silenced it at dinner the night before, but the minute she read the first text, she wished she hadn’t. She needed every hour she’d lost.

“Oh no,” she said aloud as she flipped through the rest of the message. “No, no, no, no. Damn it!”

Foster grumbled and pushed himself up in bed. “What is it?” he said with a loud yawn.

“Red has the flu.”

“Red who?” He ran his fingers through his wild hair, but it didn’t help. The sheets pooled around his waist, displaying the broad shoulders and hard, hair-covered chest she’d clung to only hours ago. It was a shame she didn’t have more time to appreciate it. But it was all-go emergency mode right now.

“Red Everett—my volunteer Santa. He got the diagnosis from Doc Owens last night after going in with a 102-degree fever. He has to isolate himself for 72 hours, so that means the sleigh is empty once again.”

“I’m sure you can find someone.”

Alice dropped her phone into her lap and buried her face in her hands. “It’s Friday morning, Foster. I have just over twenty-four hours before I have to have someone in the suit, at the high school, and ready to ride in the parade. This is a disaster.”

“Come here.” Foster wrapped his arm around her waist and coaxed her back down into the bed.

She let herself sink into the comfort of the pillows and the warmth of his arms, if just for a moment. She took a deep breath and turned onto her side, burying her face in his chest. “What am I going to do?”

“I’m sure there’s someone out there that owes you a favor or would want to help out. You’ve just got to find him.”

She wasn’t so sure about that. Alice pulled dozens of strings and called in favors pretty regularly to keep events in town rolling. Leo had been an ideal Santa because he was one of the few men in town that didn’t already have a role to play in the parade. The same could be said for his son.

He’d said no. He’d said no more than once. But that was before. Maybe now, seeing her in a bind... She might regret it, but she had to ask one last time. “Foster?”

“Yeah?” He brushed the hair from her face and kissed her forehead.

“Would you please, please fill in for Santa this one time? I know you don’t like Christmas but I’m truly desperate.” She looked up at him, hoping her coy glance through her lashes would work some kind of magic.

“You don’t need me,” he said dismissively. “You’re the Amazing Alice Jordan. You can find someone else.”

In that moment, his optimistic tone—meant to be supportive—landed wrong because it was just glazing over the truth. Romantic dates didn’t change it. Sex didn’t change it. Emotional talks where they bonded over their pasts didn’t change it. When she was in a bind, he refused to budge one inch to help her when it came to Christmas.

“You know what? Just forget it.”

Alice flung back the blankets and leapt out of bed. She furiously went around the room, collecting her bits of clothing and tugging them on.

Foster sat back up, his face visibly surprised by the sudden turn of events. “Come on, Alice, don’t be that way. You know I?—”

“Please, don’t,” she interrupted. Alice stepped into her dress and pulled it up over her hips. “Don’t give me the same sad song and dance about how you can’t help me because you don’t do Christmas.”

“Well, I don’t. And you know why.”

Alice shook her head and slipped on a high heel. “It’s just an excuse.”

“An excuse?” Foster bolted upright, his own anger seemingly catching up with hers.

“Yes!” She shouted, turning to face him. “It’s been over twenty years since your mother left. If you wanted to move past it and enjoy the holidays like everyone else, you would. And I’m not even asking you to do that. I just want you to spend one afternoon wearing a costume and pretending not to be a miserable sad sack. But you can’t—no—you won’t. If you gave a damn about me and the mess I’m in, you would help me.”

He didn’t respond. She expected him to shout back, but apparently, her words had cut too deeply. She didn’t have time to worry about his hurt feelings right now. She finished dressing, grabbed her overnight bag and her purse, and turned to go.

“Let me at least zip up your dress for you,” Foster said at last.

“No thank you.”

“You can’t walk home half-dressed, Alice.”

“Watch me.”

“Fine. Go on then!” He shouted at her as the dam seemed to break. “Rush off to the office where you can bury yourself in your work. Go find your Santa and save the day so everyone will love you and you can ignore your personal problems. That’s what you’re best at.”

Alice’s jaw dropped open a moment before she recovered. “Have fun finding some other way to occupy your time until you head back to Nashville.”

She spun on her heel and walked out of his bedroom. He called out her name, but she didn’t turn around. She marched straight out of the house and down the street, refusing to look behind her. She didn’t have the luxury of looking back and living in the past the way Foster did. She had to look to the future and pulling this parade together.

She also didn’t look at anyone else as she made a beeline for her house. Yes, she was wearing a half-zipped cocktail dress with mussed hair and probably raccoon eyes from last night’s mascara. Yes, she had one stocking hanging out of her purse and trailing behind her. People were out and about, getting ready to start their work day, and she was certain she was getting a few odd looks, but it didn’t matter.

Once she got inside her house and slammed the door shut behind her, she felt like she could finally take a deep breath. She dropped her bags to the floor and pressed her back against the hard wood that separated her from Foster and the rest of the town. And with the breath came the tears.

“Foster, why don’t you get dressed and I’ll make you a cup of coffee. You’ve been moping around the house since Alice ran out of here half-dressed yesterday morning.”

Foster looked up at his dad standing in the doorway. He’d avoiding discussing their fight with his father so far. He still wasn’t really ready to talk about it. “Dad, I don’t?—”

“ Now . We need to have a talk.”

He sat, stunned as his dad disappeared down the hallway. Leo hadn’t taken that tone with him since he was a teenager. It seemed to be time for another early morning ass chewing. And honestly, he probably deserved this one too. He’d done nothing but brood about it for the last twenty-four hours with no real answers.

As instructed, Foster cleaned up and pulled on a fresh pair of jeans with his favorite Vanderbilt sweatshirt. By the time he stumbled into the kitchen, his father was sitting there with his own cup of coffee and another waiting at the empty seat across from him.

“You know, when your mom left and you said you didn’t want to celebrate Christmas anymore, I thought it would be a phase. You were only nine and your therapist said that supporting this choice would help you process your grief. And frankly, I was struggling enough to deal with my marriage falling apart so suddenly. So I listened to him and let it go even though it felt wrong. But then a year turned into two, into ten, and into twenty years. And it’s gone too damn far.”

“You can’t make me celebrate Christmas, Dad.”

“No, no, you’re right,” Leo said. “And if I thought for one second you actually disliked Christmas, I’d shut my mouth. But I don’t think you do. I think you love Christmas just as much as you did when you were little. But you’re angry and you’ve never been able to confront your mother with your anger. So you focused all your pain and frustration at a holiday that’s really just a stand in for her.”

Foster took a sip of his coffee and considered his father’s words. He was right to a point. He’d tracked down his mother several years ago and found her living off the grid in Oregon with some guy. He could’ve gone there, or called her. Said his piece. But he never wanted to give her the satisfaction of knowing how much she’d hurt him. He didn’t think it would make any difference.

“I know how it feels. I’ve imagined dozens of times what I’d say to her if I had the chance. But holding onto the anger this long is like putting the poison into your own glass instead of hers. I’m sorry I screwed up my marriage, Foster. I never meant to do anything that would cause you this much lasting pain. I’ve numbed my own in the only way I knew how, and that didn’t work either, so I don’t have a lot of room to talk when it comes to coping mechanisms. But I can’t sit back and watch you ruin something good. I understand it isn’t that easy to change after all these years, but for the first time you have a real reason to try. Alice is worth the effort, Foster.”

“I don’t know that she wants me to try, Dad. We said some pretty ugly things to each other yesterday. If I were her, I’d tell me to go to hell.”

“That’s because she cares about you and doesn’t think you feel the same way by refusing to help. Words aren’t going to convince her at this point, either. It will take action.”

Foster sighed and sat back into his chair. Could he do it? For her?

“Think on it, son,” Leo said as he got up from his chair and headed into the kitchen. “Just don’t think on it too long. The parade starts at eleven.”

Glancing down at his watch, Foster swallowed the last of his coffee and headed for the door.

Of course, there were people everywhere along the parade route, which ran between his house and the high school where it kicked off. Foster should’ve expected as much and circumvented the town square, but now he was in too deep to turn back. Crowds were perched along every sidewalk and loaded into the back of pickup trucks in the parking lots. There were folding chairs littered across the lawns at the courthouse and the library.

Once he got through the spectators, he had the to fight the people in the parade itself. Fifty-some high schoolers in marching band uniforms were loitering around the high school football field with their instruments. Folks queued up for the parade were tacking up the last bits of sparkly garland and other decorations on their parade floats and cars. The local ladder truck from the fire department had a huge wreath on the grill and a tree mounted to the top of the ladder. There were horses... baton twirlers. Anything and everything but what he was looking for.

He was winding his way through a group of elderly men dressed up as Christmas elves and snowmen when he finally laid eyes on Alice. She was wearing a hunter green wool coat with a reindeer antler headband holding back her auburn hair from her face. She was in full work mode—directing people to one place or another, helping the participants queue up in order, and talking to a mysterious third party through the Bluetooth piece in her ear.

He was just about to shout her name when he saw her turn and make a beeline to hug Santa Claus. Well, it was sort of Santa Claus. Whomever was wearing the costume was tall and skinny and far too young to pull it off. Foster was far from old and jolly, but this kid couldn’t be more than twenty and a hundred and thirty pounds soaking wet. He looked more like a candy cane in the red and white suit.

“Thank you so much, Simon,” he overheard Alice say to him. “I know this isn’t ideal for either of us, but we couldn’t have the parade without you stepping up, so I appreciate it.”

Santa flushed bright red beneath his synthetic white whiskers. “We couldn’t disappoint the kids, Miss Alice. I’ll just wait over by the sleigh,” he said as he spied Foster over Alice’s shoulder.

She turned to look behind her and stopped short when she saw Foster. He wasn’t sure how he expected her to react after the way they had left things, and she didn’t seem to know how she felt either. Her eyes were wide at first, and then her jaw tightened and her mouth clamped shut.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” he asked.

“Sure,” she said, immediately bouncing back into the professionally perky expression that he despised. “I only have a few minutes before the parade starts, though.”

“I know. And I apologize for waiting until the last possible minute to say this. But I have a confession to make.” Foster swallowed hard and tried to force out the words that clung to his throat. “I love Christmas,” he said, rushing the words out at last.

Alice blinked a few times, her wide eyes confused. That didn’t seem to be what she was expecting him to say, and he understood. He never expected to say it aloud either. “You don’t hate Christmas?”

“No. I... I was angry with my mother and I hated what she did to my Christmas memories by leaving. As a kid, it was my favorite time of the year. I wished away my summers waiting for the lights and the familiar music to come back. I loved it so much that when she left, it was never the same. I blamed the holidays for falling short when I was really just mad at her. But deep inside, I still loved it. I just couldn’t let myself enjoy it. Until now.”

Foster reached out and took Alice’s hands. “I have been thinking about you non-stop since we argued. And I realize now that when I was with you, some of the magic of the holidays I’d lost, came back. This week with you had been special and different, and it has brought the joy of the season back to me in a way I never expected to ever feel again. I don’t want to miss out on another Christmas. And I don’t want to spend another Christmas without you, Alice.”

The fake smile faded away as her jaw fell open. Her mouth moved a few times without any words coming out. Finally, she shook her head. “The parade is about to start. I’ll be happy to finish this conversation with you later.”

“No.” Foster reached out and grabbed her upper arms before she could pull away. “We’ve got to talk about this right now. There won’t be another time better than this moment.”

“I don’t understand. What are you saying, Foster?”

Foster took a deep breath and smiled. “I’m saying that I don’t just love Christmas, Alice. I think I may be falling in love with you too. And if you’ll take me, I’ll happily be your Santa Claus in the parade.”

Jingle bells.

Alice heard them again, and this time there was no mistaking what it meant. That lady with the Airstream camper hadn’t been lying when she said the ornament she was buying was special. Her Christmas wish had been granted in more ways than one.

She rushed forward and kissed him, hoping that would suffice for all the words they didn’t have time to say. “Let’s go,” she murmured against his lips as she grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the sleigh. “We don’t have a lot of time.”

“Simon!” she shouted.

The skinny Santa popped up from behind the sleigh. “Yes, ma’am?”

“Thank you for volunteering, but you’re off the hook. Get out of that suit and go man your patrol car, Officer Chamberlain.”

With a relieved grin, the young man peeled off the suit and handed it over to Foster, who tugged on each piece as he received it. Underneath, Simon was in his full uniform, and made a run for it.

“Simon!” Foster shouted.

He stopped and turned, realizing he still had on his fake beard. He snatched it off his face, ran it back over to Foster, waved, and headed off to his car.

“That was the best Santa you could find?” Foster asked once his whiskers were in place and he was fully attired as Saint Nick.

Alice laughed. “Bless his heart, he’s too sweet to say no. But we both knew he was just a warm body. As for you,” she said, fully looking Foster over. “I think this is a great improvement.”

Foster nodded and inspected his outfit. “Next year, I think I might want to upgrade the outfit a little bit. This is just a step up from the costume store. I think we could do better than mall Santa. Maybe I could grow my beard out a little, too.”

Alice smiled to try and hide how surprised she was. Not only was he volunteering to be her Santa Claus this year, he was planning for next year. That meant he was really serious about Christmas, his change of heart, and about his growing feelings for her.

Thoughts began spinning through her mind. Did that mean he was moving back here to Rosewood? Would they live together? Should she tell him how she felt about him now or wait until later? It had only been a week! Were they both crazy?

“Stop,” Foster said, his white-gloved hands resting on her shoulders. “I can see your brain working overtime. Nothing matters right now but putting on the best Christmas parade in the history of Rosewood. We’ll figure the rest out later. We have all the time in the world.”

Foster leaned down and kissed her. His fake whiskers tickled her face in a way his real ones hadn’t, making her giggle. “Somehow I feel naughty kissing Santa Claus.”

“I think once you’ve officially taken on the role of Mrs. Claus, kissing the big man will feel as natural as baking Christmas cookies. Speaking of which,” Foster hesitated, “do you know how to bake Christmas cookies?”

Alice shrugged. She hadn’t in years, but she had her mother’s old recipe book. “I have a few I used to make for the boys. Why?”

“Because I haven’t had a good snickerdoodle in over twenty years. I’ve got a lot of Christmas merriment to catch up on. And I can’t wait to do it. With you. Merry Christmas, Alice.”

“Merry Christmas, Foster.”