Chapter 14

fourteen

HARVEY

T here was no part of a Trixie Belden book where, after the mystery was solved, Trixie had to sit around shoving sugar cookies into her face and waiting awkwardly to be told whether the guy she’d slept with under the assumption it was one-night thing would be staying around. Mostly because you’d hope that sort of scenario would never come up for Trixie until she was at least college-aged, but also because everything was nice and neat in Trixie’s world. When Jim was adopted by the Wheelers he just dropped seamlessly into his new life in Sleepyside. Then again, Jim’s family had the good narrative sense to be dead and completely out of the picture before the story began; Sterling’s didn’t. There was no way he was going to walk away from his life in New York just because of a casual hook up and the power of Christmas.

Was there?

It was stupid to want that. Sterling and I liked each other and we had chemistry. But you didn’t throw your life away for a new relationship, let alone a potential one. Not even at Christmas. It felt as though Sterling and I could be something, but we weren’t there yet.

Also, Sterling was in the next room reconnecting with his long-lost uncle and facing some family trauma head on, and I was worried about whether or not he liked me enough to stay? I felt like a selfish, petty asshole for trying to make this all about me.

The couch creaked as Kyle leaned forward to help himself to another sugar cookie. “You look like you’re thinking very hard about something, Harvey.”

I tried for a casual smile and probably missed. “I guess I just thought finding Sterling’s missing uncle would be a lot more dramatic, you know? It’s meant to be the thrilling end of the story.”

“Who says it’s the end?” Kyle shrugged his massive shoulders. “Anyway, life’s not a book. Life’s messy. It’s that shoebox full of receipts and ticket stubs and letters and photographs you keep under your bed.”

“Did you ever think Win would go back to New York?” I asked quietly.

Martha cast Kyle an appraising look.

“No,” he said, and shook his head. “Because Win burned all his bridges with his father the moment he left. Going back to New York, and back into the closet, was never going to happen. So no, I never thought for a second he’d go back there, but there were times I was scared he’d go somewhere else.”

“Where?”

“Anywhere,” Kyle said. “What the hell did Christmas Falls have to offer a guy like that?”

Martha raised her eyebrows and smiled slightly, and Kyle returned the smile, as though they were sharing a private joke, or perhaps the silent answer to a question that had been asked a million times before.

“You,” I said as the realization hit. “Christmas Falls had you .”

“Well, let’s just say I didn’t have a lot of faith when I was a kid that I was enough.” Kyle snorted, and my stomach clenched as I thought of Sterling. “But Win’s a stubborn son of a bitch who decided I was it for him.”

I was happy for him and jealous of him in equal measure. I wanted to ask how he’d known what they had was worth trying to build on. I wanted to ask if he’d asked Win to stay. But I didn’t know how to ask those things without revealing a part of myself I wasn’t ready to show a stranger. My expression probably told him everything he needed to know anyway.

Martha let out a sigh. “We really ought to go back to town, Harvey. What if someone wants to see the museum?”

I tried for another smile. “What are the chances of that though?”

Martha clicked her tongue. “Harvey.”

She was right. That Back in 5 minutes sign I’d left on the door was becoming a bigger lie every moment. But I didn’t want to leave the cabin. I was afraid that if I did, I wouldn’t see Sterling again. And I didn’t know what the hell I was even going to say to him, but I had to say something . One last word salad, maybe, for old times’ sake.

Kyle’s gaze softened. “I reckon Win and Sterling have a lot of catching up to do, Harvey, but we won’t let him leave without telling you.”

His words didn’t melt away the knot of tension in my gut, but it eased the taut strings a fraction and gave me room to breathe, which was more than I had any right to ask for. Sterling and I might have had the potential to be more, but neither of us had made any promises. What we were at the moment—that potential, that chemistry, the way our gazes found each other and my heart beat faster with a thrill of pleased recognition—would fade away to nothing more than a vague sense of nostalgic regret if we let it.

Oh , I’d tell myself ten or twenty years from now, Sterling was a great guy, handsome and fun, and the sex was amazing. My life might have been really different if he ’ d stuck around. I wonder what he ’ s doing these days. I’d Google him, probably, and then forget about him again until something random reminded me. A hot chocolate. A little wooden reindeer. The Twelve Days of Christmas .

Okay, so given that it was Christmas all year round in Christmas Falls, maybe I wouldn’t even have the chance to forget Sterling. Maybe the memory of him would persist, like athlete’s foot, or a wart that wouldn’t go away.

That was a bad analogy. Sterling was much nicer than a wart.

Martha rose to her feet. “Come on, Harvey. He’s not going to leave without saying goodbye.”

Right, but also? I wasn’t sure I could handle another goodbye from Sterling Van Ruyven. The first one had been bad enough. It wasn’t as though I had a choice. It wasn’t as though I could stop him from leaving if that was what he was going to do. And of course that was what he was going to do. We’d only known each other for a few days. Of course it was.

“Okay,” I said, and stood. “Thanks for the cookies.”

Kyle blinked at me. “You brought those with you.”

“Oh. Um, thanks for the use of the couch then, I guess.”

Kyle smiled and shook his head at the same time; I had that effect on a lot of people. “You’re welcome, Harvey. Any time.”

I was so deep in thought as I drove Martha back to Christmas Falls that I’d forgotten about Steven. Also, we’d been gone for an hour and a half, so one might expect Steven to have left the museum. But when I entered and glanced into Festival Hall, he was there with his camera set up on a tripod, grim-faced as he snapped photos of the festival-goers. I wasn’t sure how he could possibly need more photos of Festival Hall, but I counted my blessings and sneaked past the doorway, Martha right behind me.

“I’ll go and make us some tea,” she said, bustling past me.

I’d no sooner taken off my hat and set in on the desk when Steven appeared, lugging his camera and tripod.

“What the hell is going on, Harvey?” he asked, lowering his voice as he crossed to my desk. “First you say you’re coming to see me, and you know you can’t just show up at my house, but I figured it must be important, so I came to see you, and you’re not even here.”

“Hi,” I said, unwinding my scarf as I imagined using it to strangle him. “First of all, thank you for the reminder that I was never anything more than your dirty little secret, and I’m sorry, but that message wasn’t meant for you. It was meant for Sterling.” Then, because he was looking at me blankly, I said, “Because both your names start with S.”

“Sterling, your boyfriend ?” His lip curled up in something that might have been a world-class sneer, if only he thought this conversation, or me, was worth the effort.

“Mm,” I said noncommittally, looping my scarf around itself and putting it on my desk beside my hat.

Steven rolled his eyes, and I wondered why I’d ever thought he was attractive. He was, objectively. But then you spent ten seconds with him and his personality really started to sour the entire experience. “I know he’s not your boyfriend. You’ve been telling everyone he’s just some guy doing a research project on the town.”

Okay, wow.

Steven let out a short, impatient huff of breath. “So which is it? All this shit about how I was keeping you a secret, using you, refusing to be open…if Sterling really is your boyfriend, you’re sure putting a lot of effort into hiding that. God, Harvey. I’m embarrassed for you.”

“Excuse me?” My stomach clenched in anticipation of a sharp blow to my self-confidence. Steven was good at those. “Why would you be embarrassed for me?”

“This whole farce.” Steven shook his head like a disappointed parent, the patronizing asshole. “It’s obvious you still have feelings for me.”

I waited to feel the low burn of humiliation. It didn’t come. What I got instead was sudden cold clarity. The ice bucket challenge for the soul. I folded my arms over my chest. If he wanted to hurt me, he stood a better chance continuing in the ‘you’re keeping your boyfriend a secret, you hypocrite’ vein. Sterling might not actually be my boyfriend, but he was more than some guy I was doing a research project with. But in calling my feelings for Sterling a farce, implying they were only a cover for my feelings for him , Steven brought into focus the image of how pathetic he truly was. “Okay, so just to be clear, the only feeling I have for you is contempt.”

His gaze snapped to mine.

“Sterling likes me,” I said. “And okay, he’s not going to be in Christmas Falls for long, but so what? He likes me, and he thinks I’m interesting, and he listens when I talk. I could know him for an hour , and it would still be a better relationship than the months I was dating you.”

Steven’s jaw dropped.

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Look, maybe you’re not actually a bad guy, but you’re a terrible fucking boyfriend. You cheated on your actual boyfriend with me for months. You made me a part of that, and that’s a really horrible thing to do. And the worst part is, I don’t even think you liked me. You don’t like the books I read, or the movies I watch, or the things I like. You didn’t even like this sweater .” I plucked at it. “So why the hell were you even with me anyway? Was it just because I was there?”

Steven was wearing the expression of a man who’d discovered the milk was a week past its Best By date after he’d taken his first mouthful of cereal.

“It was .” I let out a disbelieving laugh. “Holy shit, I can’t believe I ever let you make me feel bad about myself.”

I couldn’t believe I’d ever twisted myself into an emotional pretzel trying to get Steven’s approval. I’d mentioned my love of Trixie Belden to Steven once , and he’d said, “Aren’t those children ’ s books?” So I’d stopped talking about them, and started trying to talk about things like photography, and wine, and the stock market. I’d even tried drinking coffee instead of hot chocolate, and for what? For some guy who gave even less of a fuck about me than he did about the boyfriend he was cheating on.

When I’d told Sterling about Trixie Belden, he’d downloaded one of the books. He’d never talked to me about the stock market, except for that one time he’d said “shareholder” and I’d nearly died of boredom on the spot. But that was only to explain his family situation. He’d never tried to make me feel bad about myself, not once. And now that I understood what had kept Win in Christmas Falls all these years, I understood how much of my life I’d spend regretting it if I didn’t at least try to tell Sterling how I felt.

“So let’s just be very clear, right now.” There was something new in my voice, a note of strength I hadn’t expected. “We’re done. We never were together, and we never will be, not in any capacity. So just leave me alone . ”

I half expected him to say something like, “ You ’ ll regret this,” and then turn and stalk away with a dramatic flip of his scarf over his shoulder. But he just stared at me, expression inscrutable at first, and then sort of deflated. He gave a short nod. “Okay.” He let out a breath. “Okay.” He took out his phone. “I’m blocking your number.” He said it matter-of-factly. It seemed unfair, like I should have been the one to block his number. But I was so relieved he was doing it, I couldn’t be petty. “We ought to try to be civil. Just, if I have to come to the museum to take pictures or whatever. But I won’t talk to you otherwise.” He looked at me again, as though expecting me to protest.

“Works for me,” I agreed.

He slid his phone into his pocket, his mouth tight. He stared at the floor to his left like he didn’t know what to do next. “I don’t know why I…” he started. Then stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Well.”

It wasn’t an apology. It never would be, with Steven.

He glanced up again. “I hope you’re happy with him.” He gave a quick, nervous sounding laugh. “I’m trying to mean that. Really.”

My heart was still pounding too hard from that little adrenaline burst for me to answer right away. My instinct was to say that Sterling and I weren’t together, as if saying it wasn’t true could push away the all-consuming hope that it was . Steven looked away once more. “Whatever. I should just keep my mouth shut.”

Not a possibility he’d ever seemed to consider before, except when it came to keeping me a secret. But Christmas was a time for miracles.

“Goodbye,” I said firmly, pleased not to feel any guilt or shame.

“Yeah,” he muttered. And then turned and walked out.

Once the front door shut, I slumped down in the desk chair and mentally counted the seconds until Martha emerged from the break room. She lasted a full twelve.

I sighed as she set a mug of tea in front of me. “I’m guessing you heard all that.”

“The noise from Festival Hall is pretty loud,” she said unconvincingly.

“Not loud enough.”

“No,” she agreed.

“I don’t know whether I’m an asshole for sort of hating him, or a wimp for not hating him more. Or an asshole for hating him when I was the one who missed all the signs.”

“I think,” she said briskly, as she perched on the edge of the desk and stirred her tea with a tiny spoon, “that once you call Sterling, you’ll feel better. And you won’t be particularly inclined to think about Steven ever again.”

“Call Sterling?” I said, not sure whether I was more alarmed by the ‘Sterling’ part, or ‘call.’ “On the phone?”

“I don’t know why your generation treats the Call button like it’s the Big Red Button on a nuke, but yes. On the phone.”

“To say what? We just saw each other.”

She stared until even my tepid defiance deserted me.

“Fine,” I said, pushing myself slowly up from the chair. “Okay. Fine.” I grabbed my phone and looked around for a place far enough away from Martha that she wouldn’t hear me make a fool of myself, and far enough away from Festival Hall that I wouldn’t have to shout to be heard. When I saw no such place, I said, “Fine,” again and strode outside.

The town looked magical in the dark—lights twinkling everywhere, garlands with big red bows around all the lampposts. I dialed Sterling before I could second-guess the decision, and then hung up after two rings when I reminded myself he was probably bonding with his long-lost uncle and Kyle, and I shouldn’t interrupt that.

The phone buzzed in my hand almost immediately.

Sterling.

I debated not answering. As if that was going to happen.

“Hi,” I said tentatively.

“Hi,” he said. His voice was soft, low.

“I didn’t want to interrupt, if you were talking with Win.” God. I was going to chicken out before we came anywhere near what I needed to say. “But this is important.” I tried for strength in my tone, which only seemed to translate to volume.

“Yeah,” he said. It wasn’t really a question. It was like he already knew what I was going to say. Even though I sure as hell didn’t.

“I want you to do what’s best for you. But if it were up to me, you’d stay in Christmas Falls, and we’d give this a chance.”

“I know,” he said, softer still. I know. But that ’ s why you ’ re an idiot, Harvey, because I have a life in New York, and we ’ ve only known each other a few days, and you ’ re still smarting from Steven and looking for a reb— “I think we should.”

My hand, already half numb with cold, tightened around the phone. “Really?” But he wouldn’t say it if he didn’t mean it. And the sense that we were having this conversation together, rather than me just spewing my incoherent feelings into the phone, helped immeasurably.

“Yes. I haven’t stopped thinking about you since you left here. I don’t really ever stop thinking about you at all.”

My throat tightened, and the twinkling lights of town blurred. I wiped quickly at my eyes. “Yeah. I don’t stop thinking about you either.”

“Whereas it’s very easy to stop thinking about New York. I’d be fine never thinking about it again.”

I couldn’t deny how glad I was to hear that. But I didn’t want him to burn all his bridges either. “If it doesn’t work out, you can always?—”

“Harvey, shut up.” He said it gently, in a way that warmed me. “One step at a time, okay? I’m staying. And we’re trying this.”

He ’ s staying . My brain repeated it over and over. He ’ s staying. People hurried by on the sidewalk, and a horse-drawn carriage clopped down main street.

“Furthermore,” he said, “I feel strongly that you and your grandma should come to Christmas dinner at Win and Kyle’s in a few weeks. I know it’s early to ask, but they’ve offered, and it would be rude to say no, don’t you think? I mean, it’s Christmas .”

I laughed, swiping my eyes with the side of my hand again. “So rude,” I agreed. “Oh God.” I had to take another second to steady my voice. “I hope Win and Kyle don’t think they’re going to do all the cooking. My grandma’s going to take over their kitchen, fair warning.”

“They’ve probably got enough reindeer aprons for all of us.” Sterling paused. “Martha already RSVPed on your behalf. She said she’d drag you if she had to. But I thought I’d ask, as a courtesy.”

“Kind of you,” I said, realizing suddenly that I was smiling so hard I was afraid my face would get stuck like that in the cold. “Nobody…nobody’s ever going to have to drag me to see you. Just so you know.”

“Good,” he replied, still in that soft, warm voice.

We talked about nothing in particular until I reached a point where I was either going to get frostbite or fired if I didn’t go back into the museum. I hung up feeling like nothing around me was quite real. So I clung to the words currently serving as my anchor, keeping me from floating up past the strands of winking lights and the garlanded lampposts, and off into the cloudy winter sky.

He ’ s staying.