Once Upon a December: A Holiday Short Story Collection Read Free Page A

years avoiding everyone I love, thinking that’s what they needed in order to move on with their lives. But in reality, for all of them, time has stood still.
    Have they all been waiting for me?
    We reach the diner, and I park the car. Xander takes my trembling hand in his as he leads me up the gravel path and toward the entrance. The place looks relatively vacant, which isn’t too surprising since it’s late on Christmas Eve.
    “Are we peeking again?” Xander asks.
    “Yes.”
    He sighs and pulls me toward the window. The diner really is empty except for a few coffee drinkers sitting at the counter.
    “She could have gone to community college,” I whisper into the air. “Did she even try?”
    “Nope. She was waiting for you to come back. You’d made plans.”
    We had made plans. We’d planned to move away from Paisley Springs and attend college . . . together.
    I forced myself to move on without her . . . to live without her, and all this time she’s been waiting for me?
    Just then, a waitress appears from the back. She’s holding a coffee pot and smiling at the customers. Her long red hair is pulled into a ponytail. And her eyes . . . her green eyes are still the most beautiful eyes in the world.
    Xander’s hand tightens around mine.
    “She prays for you every night,” he says as we watch her pour coffee into a man’s mug. “She prays that you'll come home, but if you don’t, she hopes that you’re at least happy.”
    Emma wasted her prayers on me. I haven’t been happy in more than ten years.
    “And she never loved another soul.”
    Neither have I.
    “She must hate me,” I whisper, the agony so intense that I think I might collapse under the weight of it. Xander just holds my hand a little tighter.
    “She still loves you. She’ll forgive you.”
    “She doesn't look unhappy .”
    But even as the words slip out of my mouth, I know it’s a lie. Even now, I know every curve of her smile and every sparkle in her eye, and I can tell she’s faking it.
    “It’s almost closing time,” Xander says. “You can’t walk through locked doors, so I suggest you get inside.”
    I look away from the beautiful angel standing behind the glass and down into the eyes of this crazy, green-eyed boy.
    “You'll come with me?”
    He smiles brightly.
    “Don't you understand? I'm already there.”
    I don’t understand, and I tell him so.
    “Don’t you see? I’ve watched over both of you for the past ten years. She prays for you every night and you think about her a thousand times a day. You’re still crazy about each other. I just wanted to see you guys together.”
    “I . . . don’t understand.”
    The child’s bright green eyes meet mine. “My name is Alexander, and I love homemade applesauce. I have my dad’s crazy hair and my mom’s green eyes, and all I want for Christmas is for my mom and dad to be happy.
    A tear trickles down my face.
    It all makes sense now.
    Is he an angel? A ghost? A figment of my heartbroken imagination?
    It doesn’t matter, because behind the glass, his mom is waiting for me.
    But first thing’s first . . .
    I kneel on the ground and place my hands on each side of his face. He really is a beautiful child. The spitting image of her. And of me.
    “I’ve always loved your mother. And you . I didn’t know it then, but I do now. Never doubt that.”
    My son smiles. “I don’t doubt it. We love you, too.”
    I lean close and kiss his forehead.
    “By the way, you should know that Mom isn’t able to have children. She never was.”
    “Never?”
    “The doctors said never. It wasn’t your fault.”
    I wrap my arms around my son and pull him close, hugging him tightly.
    “Mom’s waiting,” he whispers.
    With a nod, I climb to my feet.
    “Are you leaving?”
    “No.” Xander smiles and points toward the window. “I’m peeking.”
    I smile through my tears. “Will I ever see you again?”
    “You'll see me every day.”
    “But how?”
    “Anytime you feel like you’re