Mistletoe Season by Michelle Major

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

GABEWALKEDOUTof the front entrance of the nursing home an hour later, the bright winter sunshine overhead mocking him and his dark mood. Gran was gone, and he hadn’t been there with her or had a chance to say goodbye before she passed.

The whole reason he’d come to Magnolia in the first place was to take care of her, and he’d failed when she needed him most. Just like he hadn’t been able to get to her after her fall and subsequent surgery, although during that time at least he’d had the excuse of his military career.

Today there was no reason he shouldn’t have been available, other than the fact that he’d allowed himself to get distracted from his purpose in this town. His heart ached and his throat felt tight with guilt.

The director of the facility had met him at the door to Gran’s room. He’d failed her. The thought drummed through his mind like rainfall on a tin roof.

He noticed the small sedan parked next to his truck in the lot as he approached, and his pulse gave a now expected leap as Angi climbed out.

His reaction to her might be familiar, but his inability to control it remained a source of frustration. Another distraction and an unwanted pull on his heart.

“I’m sorry,” she said as she came toward him. “I got here as soon as I could. I figured you’d want a few minutes with her.”

“With her body,” he muttered, shame making his gut clench painfully. “She died with no family at her side. She died alone.”

Angi enveloped him in a soft hug. He didn’t deserve anyone’s comfort at this moment, but he greedily took it anyway. Another mark against him.

“She knew you came,” Angi said against his jacket. “Her spirit was still there.”

“I don’t need you to placate me.” He should have pulled away but couldn’t bring himself to release her.

“Can I at least offer support?”

“It won’t help,” he told her, determined to wear his theoretical hair shirt for as long as possible. Other than his own guilt, what could he offer his grandmother as retribution for not being with her?

She leaned back enough to look up at him. “I’m going to give it to you anyway. I can be stubborn like that.”

“She shouldn’t have died alone,” he whispered, and squeezed his eyes shut when a flood of tears pricked the back of them. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d cried.

“Gabe, your grandmother knew how much you loved her. Think about her face that night in the shop. She was surrounded by people who cared about her, and the business she’d dedicated her life to was flourishing again. You did that. You put your life on hold to dedicate yourself to making her happy and taking care of her. She knew she was loved.”

“I don’t want to feel better,” he said, another round of guilt plaguing him. “I need to be sad right now, Ang.”

“Grieving is normal,” she told him. “But you don’t have to do it alone.”

Wasn’t that just the kicker? Here she was offering him comfort and he couldn’t even allow himself to take it.

“I should go,” he said, and forced himself to step away from her. “I need to start with funeral arrangements and call my mom.”

“Will she come to Magnolia for the service?” Angi’s face looked pained as she asked the question.

Gabe could imagine the same emotion reflected in his eyes.

“I don’t know.” He gave a humorless laugh. “Although I’m sure she’ll be here to take over the shop and house once the estate is settled.”

“What will you do?”

“Move on, I guess.” He shrugged. “This was always temporary.”

He refused to acknowledge the disappointment in her chocolate-colored eyes. He refused to consider that he didn’t have to walk away. There was no possibility Gabe could live in the same town as his mother, or watch as she sold the shop and house he loved.

And he couldn’t ask Angi for something more than a pretend relationship when he had nothing to give her other than himself. He didn’t deserve her.

A part of him wanted her to argue, to fight for their connection. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

She nodded. “If there’s anything you need, please let me know. And thank you again for taking Andrew today. I’m so sorry that it meant not being there for your grandmother.”

His insides felt raw, scraped out with a dull knife until there was nothing left but empty space. “Me, too,” he told her, and then turned toward his truck.

“THISISAbad idea,” Angi said as she followed her mother up the front walk to Gabe’s grandmother’s house later that night. Andrew followed behind them pulling a wagon that held an assortment of holiday decorations.

“Why?” her mother asked. “He shouldn’t be alone tonight, and you said he doesn’t have Christmas decorations. There are so many memories in Iris’s house for him. It should be a festive place.”

“But he wants to be sad,” Angi argued weakly.

“We’ll be sad with him,” Andrew offered, and her heart melted at the sweetness in her son’s tone.

Angi had returned to her mother’s after Gabe walked away, feeling both helpless and hollow. Bianca and Andrew were already home, and he took great pride and pleasure in regaling her with stories of his adventures with Gabe from the morning. Apparently, Johnny Rotten, as Andrew now referred to his tormentor, had come to the event with another dad and son, which he’d expressly told Andrew was forbidden by troop rules.

She would have called the little bully out on that but hadn’t needed to since Gabe had offered to be Drew’s stand-in. Johnny’s dad had left town because he and Johnny’s mom, one of Angi’s former friends, were in the midst of a nasty divorce. She had a feeling the kid hadn’t wanted Andrew to see him without a dad at his side after making such a big deal about the lack of masculine influence in Drew’s life. As if that would have mattered to her son.

The more Andrew talked, the more she realized what a huge debt she owed Gabe. Her dad had taken his grandson to the event for the past three years, but Andrew never had the kind of fun he did with Gabe.

It was a toss-up whether she felt guiltier that taking care of her son meant Gabe hadn’t had those last moments with his grandmother or that she’d put Andrew in the situation of not having a father in the first place by picking such an absolute loser for a boyfriend years earlier.

Andrew had been the one to suggest they come to Gabe’s tonight, bringing dinner and as much holiday cheer as they could manage with only a week until Christmas. As much as he’d clearly loved the event, she could tell he hated that Gabe had gotten the news about his grandmother that afternoon.

The idea had resonated with Angi’s mother, as well. It was obvious Bianca still harbored tremendous anger and disappointment in Angi for lying about her work at the inn but she had a soft spot for Gabe Carlyle.

For better or worse, Bianca didn’t seem to realize that her daughter’s biggest deception involved the relationship with Gabe.

How was Angi supposed to admit to that now when her mother already had so many reasons to be upset? Maybe she should feel relieved that at least Bianca hadn’t done more heart clutching in the wake of discovering Angi had been lying. That felt like progress.

As Angi’s palms went sweaty, Bianca knocked on the door. Gabe opened it a second later, as if he’d been standing on the other side or watching them approach from the front window.

Then Angi noticed that he wore a jacket like he was on his way out. Where would he be heading on a night like this?

“Your grandmother was a wonderful woman and will be dearly missed by everyone who knew her.” Bianca wrapped Gabe in a tight hug, rocking back and forth with her arms around him like she was comforting a small child.

He met Angi’s gaze over her mother’s shoulder, his eyes both stunned and strangely shiny with emotion.

Not for the first time, she’d wished he had grown up with a mom like hers. Angi might have issues with how overwhelming her family was, but she’d never once doubted her mother’s love or dedication.

Every child—young or adult—should have that.

“We brought dinner,” she told him, somehow understanding that he needed her to lighten the moment.

“And Christmas decorations,” Andrew added from behind her.

Angi nodded as Bianca released Gabe. “But it looks like you were headed out? We can just leave—”

“I was coming to see you,” he said, scrubbing a hand over his jaw. “To apologize for being rude earlier.”

Angi’s heart seemed to skip a beat, and she couldn’t quite form a response.

Her mother had no such trouble. “Don’t be silly,” Bianca told him, patting his arm. “You’re grieving. When we’re at our lowest, the people who care about us are the ones who hold us up. Without question or apologies. You and my daughter are in a relationship. She’s your person, and we’re here for you as well, Gabriel. Now you should invite us in.”

He stared at Bianca for a long second, and Angi had the fleeting fear that he might divulge the truth. Instead, he gave a small nod and stepped back to let Angi’s mother pass.

“Thank you,” he said quietly. “I guess it’s good not to be alone right now.”

THENEXTSEVERALdays went by in a whirl of activity. Gabe had felt paralyzed as far as making arrangements for his grandmother’s service. It was still inconceivable to him that she was gone. No matter where in the world his career had taken him, knowing his beloved grandma was sending her love to him was like a tether to a version of home.

Without her he felt like a million snowflakes floating through the air with no place to truly land.

In the months he’d been in Magnolia, the town had come to feel like home. But the shop and Gran’s house didn’t belong to him. His mother had shown little sadness at losing Gran; nor had she given any inkling about her plans now that she stood to receive her inheritance. It might take a few weeks or months to work out the details, but his mom would come for what was now hers.

Leaving Gabe with nothing.

Except that his life in this small town didn’t feel like nothing, even without a purpose. Angi’s mother had slipped into an easy maternal role with him, and he took more solace than was right from Angi given the temporary nature of their arrangement. She, Emma and Mariella had stepped in to help him make arrangements, even hosting a reception at the inn after the funeral.

He stood in the Wildflower’s dining room, which was laden with food that Angi had made, receiving sympathetic hugs and words of kindness from people he knew, as well as complete strangers.

“Since when have you become a hugger?” Mariella asked as she came to stand at his side.

“I’m not,” he muttered under his breath. He took a long drink of the rum and Coke he’d been nursing since the function started.

“Seems to me you’re getting reinvented in this town.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her throw a glare at one more well-meaning neighbor who approached, causing the older woman to veer off in another direction.

“Thanks.” He gave Mariella a gentle elbow to the arm. “Pretty sure you’re the queen of reinvention around here.”

“Not anymore,” she said with a bitter sigh. “I can’t exactly continue with my fresh start when the past has followed me here.”

“That sounds dramatic, like some sort of made-for-TV movie.”

“Reality is often stranger than fiction. What are the chances that a man I never wanted to see again decides to move to Magnolia?”

“In Alex’s defense, I think he needs a fresh start even more than you.”

“Why?” She turned to face him fully. “He’s the sympathetic scorned groom. I’m sure everyone he knows feels terrible for him.”

“Quite a desirable situation for most men.”

“He’s rich, smart and handsome as sin.” She rolled her eyes. “If you’re into smoldering gazes and chiseled jawlines.”

“My favorites,” Gabe answered, feeling his lips pull into a small grin despite his grief. It was the first time he’d managed a smile all day. “What are you going to do? Start over someplace else?”

Her winged brows lowered. “Hell, no. I’m not giving up my life here. If he wants to tangle with me, then so be it. I’ve atoned for my mistakes. As much as I’d like to not have the reminder of the past, I’m done running away. I like it here.”

“Me, too,” he whispered before he thought better of it. Then he shook his head. “But sometimes that’s not enough.”

“It is if you make it enough.”

He glanced toward the swinging door that led to the kitchen. “Have you told that to your friend Angi?”

Mariella’s gaze followed his, then tracked to Bianca, who stood with Dominic in the corner, glaring at the spread of food on the table.

“She told me her mother found out that she was still working here. I thought Mrs. Guilardi might realize how much it means to Ang. That it would make her see she doesn’t belong at the restaurant. This is where she needs to be.”

“Because she likes it?” Gabe asked, not bothering to hide the skepticism in his tone.

“It’s more than that. It makes her happy. Having something that she’s created on her own fulfills her in a way the restaurant never will. That’s important.”

“I’m not arguing.”

“You’re important to her, too.”

He blinked.

“Only until the new year,” he said, ignoring the ache in his chest at the thought.

“Only if you screw it up.”

“I screwed up by agreeing to it from the start. We are what we are now.”

“Change it,” Mariella told him.

“Make peace with Alex Ralsten.”

“There’s a difference. I don’t care about him.”

“You care more than you let on. Unfortunately, we have that in common.”

Bianca approached at that moment, giving Mariella a glaring once-over, as if she were the ringleader of a biker gang that had led unsuspecting, innocent Angi astray.

“That’s my cue,” Mariella said under her breath. “Nice to see you again, Mrs. Guilardi.”

Angi’s mother only sniffed and looked away.

“We are what we make ourselves,” Mariella said to Gabe, and she moved toward where Emma and Cam stood near the head of the table.

“I don’t like that girl,” Bianca said as she glared after Mariella. “She has bad energy.”

Gabe shrugged. “She’s had some tough breaks in life, but she’s a talented designer and a good friend to your daughter.”

Another derisive sniff. “If those two were true friends of my daughter, they wouldn’t ask her to continue working when she’s needed at the restaurant.”

Gabe placed his drink on the buffet situated to his left. “She likes her work at the inn.”

“It’s a distraction,” Bianca insisted. “One she has no time for.”

He was a distraction as well, but he didn’t bother to bring that up.

“Thank you for everything you’ve done this week, Mrs. Guilardi. It’s meant a lot to me.”

“You’re like family, Gabriel.”

He inwardly cringed.

“I’m sorry your mother wasn’t able to make it to the service.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, his gut churning. “Mom works retail, so it’s difficult to take off right before the holidays. We’ll do something to honor Gran’s memory when she arrives.”

He assumed she’d show up once the contents of the will were made public. In truth, he had no idea what his mother was thinking about the future. She’d been terse and defensive when he’d called to tell her about Gran’s passing. The bit about her working retail wasn’t a lie, but he had no idea if she could have gotten time off or not. She’d simply told him she couldn’t make the trip, and he hadn’t questioned her.

He didn’t want her there anyway.

The point of the service was to honor his grandmother’s memory, not to entertain his mother’s stories about how awful her childhood had been because of so many made-up infractions.

He wouldn’t claim his grandparents had been perfect. No family was perfect, but his mother lived in a house made entirely of glass, so she was the last person who should be throwing stones.

“If there’s anything you need, please let us know. Of course you’ll spend Christmas at our home.”

“I don’t know—”

“I insist,” Bianca told him. “We have a traditional Italian feast, and my Angela makes the best panettone you’ve ever tried.”

“I don’t even know what that is,” he admitted, smiling at the affronted look he received. “But I know Angi is amazing in the kitchen.” He gestured to the table. “Have you tried the chicken samosas? I think they’re becoming one of her signature items at the inn. Emma told me guests request them when booking events.”

“I haven’t taken a bite of anything here.” Bianca said the words almost proudly or like a challenge. “Angi will soon be done with this place. Perhaps we’ll add panettone—which is a traditional Christmas bread—to Il Rigatone’s menu.”

“I’m going to check on her,” Gabe said, taking a step away from Bianca. “You should try some of the food. Give it a chance. One thing I learned from this week is not to let any moment pass you by.”

Bianca eyed the table like it was covered with slithering snakes. “Thank you for the suggestion,” she said, not sounding appreciative in the least. “I’m simply not hungry.”

Why did families have to be so complicated? Gabe wondered about the dynamics he’d never noticed before as he made his way past sympathetic guests toward the kitchen. His mom had been negligent bordering on abusive, and as a kid he’d thought he had it worse than anyone else he knew.

But maybe that was just an immature perspective. A lot of kids didn’t have anyone to give them unconditional love the way his grandmother had. And other children had expectations placed on their shoulders by well-meaning parents like Bianca.

In some ways that was almost worse. At least he could do his best to cut his mother out of his life and certainly out of his heart.

Angi loved her mom, even though their relationship taxed her nerves and heart.

“You’ve outdone yourself once again,” he said as he came through the swinging door into the kitchen. The smell of garlic and fresh herbs was heavy in the air. “I think you can take a break. The guests are starting to leave, and there’s still plenty of food left on the table.”

“I’m prepping for an office holiday party Emma’s hosting early next week. They want heavy hors d’oeuvres and a variety of cookies. I’ve been researching recipes that can be made and frozen ahead of time.” She placed a tray of something in the oven and then wiped her sleeve across her forehead. “If my mom forbids me to come over here again after today, I want to make sure Emma has what she needs.”

“Angi, your mom shouldn’t be able to forbid you to do whatever makes you happy.”

“I’m too tired to even think about happy at the moment,” she shot back, and then grimaced. “I’m sorry, Gabe. Today isn’t about me or my problems. How are you holding up?”

He swallowed. “It’s easier because of you.”

Her features gentled, as if she could hear all the things he wasn’t saying. “Who would have thought we’d end up as friends in all this?”

Friends. A simple word but more powerful than Gabe could have imagined. He might want more from Angi than friendship, but he wouldn’t deny how much it meant to have that from her.

He went to the prep sink and started to wash his hands. “Put me to work,” he said over his shoulder. “How can I help?”

“You still have guests,” she reminded him, pointing to the swinging kitchen door.

“They’ll entertain themselves.” He grabbed a towel that hung from the oven door and turned. “I want to be here with you, Ang.”