Chapter Four

John

This place is exactly as I remember it.

The square in the middle of town is filled with people, all sitting in lawn chairs facing the stage under the pavilion. The streets are lined with vendors, as tonight signifies the official kickoff to the Snowflake Falls Festival. It’s a nearly month-long celebration of all things Christmas, including food vendors, crafters, children’s activities, dances, and a carnival.

I used to love coming here as a kid, and then when I was a teenager, coming to scope out the girls. Now, the familiarity wraps around me like a warm blanket, and I can’t help but think how much I’ve missed this. While I’ve loved traveling the world in the military and for a while, settling down on the East Coast, nothing compares to this.

Home.

My eyes scan the crowd, finding several familiar faces that take me back. Instead of engaging in conversation, I head over to the hot cocoa stand and pull out my wallet. The line is long, but it’ll be worth it. I remember how delicious the church’s cocoa is, complete with a dollop of whipped cream and a few mini marshmallows.

The man in front of me turns around and does a double take. “John Mitchell, is that you?”

I instantly recognize my former football coach and offer him a smile and a handshake. “Coach Crawford, nice to see you.”

“Welcome home, son. I heard you were back for good.”

Nodding, I answer, “I am. Start my new job on Monday at the hospital.” Snowflake Falls doesn’t have its own hospital, but there’s one close by. Edgemere is seven miles away and has a decent-sized hospital with specialty medical care.

“A paramedic, right? Your mom was so proud the day she told me about you becoming a medic in the Army. We’re all proud of you, son, and happy to have you home,” he says, causing a lump to form in my throat.

“Thank you, sir. I’m happy to be home,” I respond.

We chat about the team, the school, and some of the kids as the line slowly moves forward, and when it’s finally our turn to order, he offers me a friendly hug. “See you around, John. Stop by the field sometime. We can throw the ball around for old times’ sake.”

I nod. “Thank you, Coach.”

“Can I help you?” Then, I hear a gasp. “John Mitchell, my goodness! Are you back in town?”

I give the woman who looks familiar a grin, my mind trying to remember her name. “I am,” I reply pleasantly, wishing I could place her.

“Well, I’m happy to hear that. What can I get you?”

“Two cocoas, please.”

She turns and starts to prepare two cups of the hot chocolaty drink. While she adds the whipped cream and marshmallows, she asks, “Do you have someone special in your life?” Clearly, she’s referring to the two drinks I’ve ordered.

I give her a small smile. “For a friend.”

“Ahhh,” she says, placing the two insulated cups on the table. “That’ll be four dollars.”

I pull a ten from my wallet. “Keep the change.”

She beams up at me. “Thank you. The money goes to the church Christmas Eve program.”

“Well, I’m happy to support it,” I tell her, grabbing the cups off the table.

“And if you’re looking for more friends, let me know. I have a daughter who’s about your age. She’s single and a great catch.” She throws me a smile and a wink.

All of a sudden, I realize where I know this woman. Her daughter, Sadie, was a year younger than me in school, and for lack of a better description, had a major crush. Sadie used to follow me around like a little lost puppy dog, and despite doing everything I could in a polite manner, she just never took the hint. She left me notes in my locker, would call and text me all the time, and even showed up at my house on several occasions to help me study. I ended up having to point-blank tell her I wasn’t interested in her, which made her cry. I felt terrible, but it was necessary.

“Thanks for the offer, but I’m good right now. Just got out of a long-term relationship,” I advise, even though the end of that happened two years ago.

“Awww,” she coos, placing her glove-covered hands over her heart. “Bless your heart.”

“Well, I’m going to go find my seat for the pageant. You have a good evening,” I tell the woman, I believe her name to be Janelle.

“You too! If you need my daughter’s phone number, just let me know! She works at the daycare center. She’s great with kids!” she practically hollers as I plaster a smile on my lips and turn to walk away.

“Thank you,” I reply, nodding to the people standing behind me, along with a quick apology for holding up the line.

I let out a sigh of relief and turn my attention to the crowd once more. If I know Eve, I’m certain she’s sitting beneath the big oak tree, just off the center of the square. It gives her a great view of the stage that’s set up under the pavilion and makes you feel like you’re surrounded by Christmas. Lights are strung from the trees and buildings, and the ice-skating rink is full of skaters.

As I make my way to where I expect to see her, I nod and offer greetings to those I pass. I recognize more people than not and get stopped by a handful of residents I haven’t seen in a while. By the time the pageant is about to begin, I’m still nowhere near the tree. Fortunately, I’m saved by the master of ceremonies announcing the start of the competition, and everyone around me turns their attention to the stage. I make a beeline straight for the tree, relieved to find Eve and her family sitting beneath it.

“Good evening,” I greet when I reach where they sit.

Eve turns surprised eyes my way, as her mom jumps up and throws her arms around my shoulders. “John, it’s so good to see you. How have you been?”

“Good, Mrs. Campbell. You?”

She waves off my comment. “It’s Cindy, John, and we’ve been well. Can’t complain anyway. We heard you were back in town, and living right next door to our Eve.” She smiles, and I swear I notice a hint of mischief in the pools of her green eyes.

“Right next door,” I murmur, glancing toward Eve, who’s watching me intently. “Here,” I state, handing over the extra cup of cocoa I picked up. “I remembered how much you love it.”

“Awww,” a chorus of woman sing around us.

Her eyes narrow a bit as her jaw tilts up. “I already have one.” She makes no move to take the cup.

Ariel, Eve’s good friend from school, rolls her eyes and sighs. She reaches over and lifts Eve’s cup out of the holder attached to her chair. “It’s almost empty.” Then, she takes the cocoa I was offering and hands it to her friend. With a huff, she stands up and gives me a big grin. “My word, John Mitchell, look at you. You’re still hot!” she proclaims, throwing her arms around me and giving me a tight squeeze.

I chuckle in her ear. “Good to see you too, Ariel. You look well.”

She bats her eyes at me and gives me a wicked grin. “Why, thank you, kind sir.” She glances over to Eve, who’s watching us intently, sipping on the fresh hot cocoa I brought her. “Man, it’s been a while. I think the last time I saw you was that night up at Penalty Shot. You were home on leave for a short time, and we celebrated all our twenty-first birthdays, even though we were all closer to twenty-two by that point of the year,” she recalls with a chuckle. “We beat your ass in pool, and then you left with—” Her eyes widen as she stops talking, clearly remembering exactly who I went home with that night.

Eve makes a strangled sound and slips lower into her chair, as if using it to hide.

“John, good to see you, son,” Ray Campbell says, offering me a hand to shake.

“You as well, sir. How’s the tree farm?”

He smiles proudly. “It’s growing bigger and better each year,” he informs me.

Just then, the pageant gets underway, and I realize my time here is up. I didn’t bring a chair, and while I’d love to stay with Eve and her family and friends and watch, I didn’t plan for anything more than buying her a cup of cocoa and saying hello.

“Oh, shoot! I almost forgot. I need to go meet Miss Bloomberg over at her food stand.” Ariel jumps up. “Here, John, why don’t you take my seat?”

“I—”

“I insist! I’ll be back in a little while. Hold down my chair for me while I’m gone.”

And just like that, Ariel’s gone, leaving an empty seat directly beside Eve available.

“That was a dirty play,” Eve mutters, taking another drink of the cocoa.

I slip into the chair and wave at Joy, who’s grinning from ear to ear.

“Hi, John. Good to see you again,” she says before returning her attention to the stage.

Sitting beside Eve, we watch as the six contestants vying for the title of Miss Snowflake Falls take the stage. Each one wears an evening gown as they approach the microphone and introduce themselves. Many are wearing fluffy shawls or long sleeves to keep warm during the pageant. It’s unlike any I’ve ever seen, not that I’ve witnessed a bunch of them. The ones they air on television are held indoors, so the attire is a bit different than our annual event.

As the contestants take their last walk down the runway stage, I lean over and whisper, “I remember watching you up there. I was a nervous wreck, but you looked so calm and collected, the most poised one up there. I knew you’d win.”

She glances at me out of the corner of her eye. “You couldn’t have known that.”

“I did. You were breathtakingly beautiful, and that red dress you were wearing only enhanced your natural splendor. I was completely smitten watching you.”

Her cheeks turn a darker shade of pink as she looks my way. When our eyes meet, she quickly averts her gaze. Despite looking away fast, I still feel the burn from the connection.

We watch the rest of the pageant in silence, clapping when each contestant gives their parting speech and takes one last walk across the stage. The first half of the pageant is conducted off-site. The only reason I know this is because of Eve’s participation back when we were seniors in high school. The main interview happens before the contest at a local business, where the judges and contestants can talk in private. They do a photo shoot too before arriving at the park for the rest of the pageant. It starts with their talent bit, followed by a speech, and then answering one final question before the audience.

“And Miss Snowflake Falls is…Cara Burch!”

The crowd cheers as the young woman in a black-and-silver dress steps forward, a beaming smile on her red lips. She has a seat in the coveted chair that’s probably been used by every Miss Snowflake Falls for thirty-five years.

When Eve stands up, clapping, I note the sheen of moisture in her eyes. She’s smiling, obviously proud of the young woman who just won the title. “You know her,” I deduce.

She glances my way before returning her gaze to Cara. “I used to babysit her and her younger sister in high school.”

“She did Cara’s hair and makeup too,” Joy announces as they start to collect their chairs.

Eve blushes again, averting her face as she folds her chair and places it in the bag for easy carrying and storage. I do the same with Ariel’s chair, and happily hand it over when she returns. “Thanks for sharing your seat.”

She waves off my comment. “No problem.” She looks from Eve to me and then back before adding, “So, now that you’re living here again, I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around?”

I flash her a smile. “Most likely. I start work Monday at the hospital in Edgemere.”

“What are you doing there?” Joy asks, stepping forward and into the conversation.

“ER paramedic with an ambulance rotation every other week.”

“That’s great, John,” Mr. Campbell says. “Your mama is very proud of you. She says you did amazing things in the military.”

I feel my own cheeks heat a bit. “It was part of the job, sir.”

“I’m going to head home. See you in the morning, Dad,” Eve states, leaning over and kissing her father on the cheek.

“I’ll be there, sweetheart.” He gives her a hug before taking his wife’s chair and slipping it over his shoulder. “Good to see you again, John.”

“You all as well,” I reply.

After Eve hugs her mom, sister, and whispers something in Ariel’s ear, she turns and starts to head off in the direction of home.

“Eve, wait up. I’ll walk you home,” I holler, making sure to toss my empty cocoa cup in a nearby trash can. I also don’t miss the chuckles of her family behind me.

“You don’t have to,” she insists as I reach her side. “I’m perfectly capable of walking home.”

“I know you are, but we’re practically going to the same place, right?”

She pauses and stares hard. I wish I knew what she was thinking. Or maybe I don’t. With my luck, she’ll tell me off, stomp on my foot, and leave me in the snow, crying over a broken toe. With a sigh, she starts to walk again at a faster, clipped pace. My legs are much longer than hers, so it’s easy for me to keep up.

“I can take your chair if you want,” I offer, hands shoved in my pockets as we round the corner on Main Street and head toward our houses.

“I’ve got it.” There’s a touch of heat in her words, mixed with a healthy dose of annoyance.

“I know you do. I was just being polite,” I reason softly.

She stops again and narrows her eyes at me. “Well, don’t.”

When we start walking again, I ask, “Don’t be polite?”

“Yes!”

I nod, not really understanding, yet getting it a little bit. She’s still hurt from nine years ago, not that I blame her. I owe her a huge apology and explanation, one she’ll receive.

We’re both quiet as we reach our street and turn the corner. Our houses come into view, and as soon as we walk past mine, she sighs and shakes her head. “That’s just sad.”

“What?” I ask, taking in my new home. The place will need a little attention, but it has great bones. My plan for the spring is to remove some of the large, overgrown shrubbery in front and plant smaller, easier to maintain bushes. I’ll also tear out the cracked, uneven sidewalk and steps and pour new.

“That,” she insists, pointing to the single strand of lights I threw across the front shrubs, just to add a touch of color.

Smiling, I take in my work, knowing full well it wouldn’t meet anyone’s approval in Snowflake Falls. This place loves Christmas, and a single strand of colored lights—one I found in the attic of all places—doesn’t qualify for proper holiday decorating. “What’s wrong with it?” I ask, keeping a straight face.

“Half the lights don’t even work!”

I shrug. “I think it adds character. It screams unique.”

“It screams inadequate.”

Chuckling, I glance over to her house, to the amazing display of bright lights. Icicle lights hang from her gutters and windows, her landscaping is covered in more bulbs, and there’s a giant inflatable penguin lit up in the yard. Not to mention the wooden trees adorning her porch and the giant lighted ornaments hanging from the soffit.

We keep walking until we’re standing directly in front of her house. “See? This is a Christmas display.”

“It’s okay. I would have gone for colored lights though.”

Her eyes narrow just a bit. “Colored lights are great and all, but white looks elegant and mesmerizing against the snowy backdrop.”

I watch as her green eyes come alive with excitement. She takes in her Christmas display, and I can feel the pride and enjoyment rolling off her. She truly loves the holidays.

Before I can chicken out, I open my mouth. “Listen, Eve, I need to apologize for what I did nine years ago.”

And just like that, everything changes. The light is snuffed out and her body becomes rigid. She practically folds into herself, as if trying to protect her heart.

“Don’t,” she says, digging keys out of her pocket. “It’s in the past. I’m over it.”

She practically runs up her steps and slips her key into the lock. Before she steps inside, she glances over her shoulder, a guarded look on her beautiful face. “Thank you for walking me home.”

Then, she’s gone, leaving me standing on the sidewalk without saying what I needed to. I remain rooted in place, watching as lights flicker on inside her home. A part of me wants to walk right up to her door, knock, and explain, but I don’t. I’m not sure she’d be receptive and hear me out. So, for now, I’ll keep it to myself, vowing to explain when the time is right.

I return to my home and let myself in through the back door. Once I’ve kicked off my shoes, I head to the living room, where I find Biggie curled up on the couch. “This is your fault, you know.”

It’s not. It’s mine.

He cracks open his eyes and just stares back at me, as if to call me on my bullshit.

“Fine, it’s not your fault,” I mutter, walking over to give him pets.

He starts to purr the moment my hand meets his fur, rolling onto his back to grant me access to his belly.

“You’re too cute to be the monster Eve makes you out to be. You’re just a man, enthralled with a woman. I totally get it,” I state, making my way to my kitchen and retrieving a beer from the fridge.

As I take my first sip, my mind goes to Eve.

Beautiful, captivating Eve.

She’s every bit as spectacular as I remember, maybe even more so now.

Problem is—she’s not happy with me, not that I blame her.

“Just wait, Eve. Our time is coming. You’ll get your apology and an explanation. After that, we’ll see what happens.”

All bets are off.