First Kiss at Christmas by Lee Tobin McClain

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

THEMORNINGOFDecember 24, Kayla slept in and woke up feeling marginally better than she had since Tony had left.

She’d spent a day wallowing in misery. Almost two days, really, but then she’d been dragged to the Gusty Gull last night and she’d figured some things out.

It was true that she was a decent person who deserved love. That her scoliosis didn’t define her, and neither did her lack of experience with men. She might have made a mistake posting pictures of the kids, and she’d taken them down, but Mom had checked and Tony had definitely signed the release form.

All the logic in the world didn’t erase her sadness, though.

She’d thought she and Tony had something. She’d put herself out there with him and he’d totally bailed.

Which meant, as Amber and Erica had said last night, that he wasn’t worth it. It might even be the case that she’d find someone better, someday.

For now, she had to acknowledge that she was in for a rough holiday. She didn’t get over things quickly; they didn’t roll off her back. She was sensitive.

She also knew that she had to get her mind off Tony. She’d already checked her email, but there was nothing except last minute sale information; everyone was busy with their own holiday preparations. That was clear from all the mock-irritated social media posts: so much food to cook! So many relatives to host! So many gifts to wrap for the kids!

Kayla had already wrapped all her Christmas gifts. They sat in a cheery stack beside her little tabletop tree.

Including...

She picked up the big plastic dump truck she’d gotten for Jax, lovingly wrapped in truck paper. It was from a recent kids’ movie featuring trucks that talked and had feelings, and all the kids were obsessed with it.

He would have really, really liked that gift. But because she and his uncle hadn’t been able to make things work between them, Jax wouldn’t get it.

Oh, he’d be fine. Plenty of people would love him, buy him gifts.

Plenty of women, she thought, and then shook her head. Not her business, not her problem.

She’d return the gift to the store where she’d bought it. It wasn’t like a preschool teacher had vast amounts of extra money. Buying it had been a stretch for her. Plus she’d heard that the gift was scarce now, hard to find. Let it make some other kid happy.

She ripped the pretty paper off, crumpled it into a ball, and stuffed it in the trash. Wiped her eyes and blew her nose, put the truck in a shopping bag, and walked toward downtown and the little toy store.

It was chilly and brisk, but people were out. Christmas Eve day was big for shopping, even when it fell on a Sunday. Some shoppers looked cheery, stuffing bills into the Salvation Army kettle on their way into the hardware store. Others, bundled against the wind, looked tired and frazzled, especially the parents tugging little kids by the hand.

Kayla stuck a bill in the kettle herself—after all, she was about to get a nice refund—and then marched into the toy store. She made her way through the crowd of frenzied shoppers, unzipping her coat as she started to sweat. The store seemed too small and too warm.

Maybe coming here today hadn’t been her brightest idea.

Kids begged and whined and shouted, and Kayla could see in their parents’ eyes that they were having similar thoughts: coming to the toy store with kids in tow, at this time of year, was a bad idea.

One of the whining voices rose over the others. Rhianna.

And that meant Norleen was here. Even more, coming to the store seemed like a bad idea. She did not want to see Norleen today.

She heard Rhianna again, closer this time.

“I told you, if you fuss we have to leave,” Norleen said. From the sound of it, she was just on the other side of a shelf from Kayla.

“But I want a Daniel Dump Truck!”

“They’re all out of those. C’mon, let’s look at the dolls.”

“Can we get one?” Rhianna’s voice was hopeful.

“No, I told you, your father didn’t send money like he was supposed to. You’ll get a couple of things, but not the big stuff like they have in here. We’re just looking, remember?”

“I want more toys!” Rhianna’s voice rose in a wail. “Other kids have more toys!”

A surprise wave of sympathy washed over Kayla. People were looking at each other and then in the direction of Norleen and Rhianna, who had a really loud voice. It was hard when your kid melted down in front of others, no question. Even for Norleen.

“Come on. We’re leaving.” Norleen’s voice sounded strained.

Kayla stepped to the end of the aisle in time to see Norleen and Rhianna head for the door. Norleen took a swipe at her own eyes with a tissue before reaching down to hug Rhianna and wipe her face.

That was surprising to Kayla, but it shouldn’t be. Of course Norleen loved her daughter, and it would be hard not to have enough money to treat your child at Christmas. Norleen hadn’t been in town long enough to connect with the organizations that bought toys for disadvantaged kids, apparently. Not that Norleen had ever seemed disadvantaged; she and Rhianna both had pretty, new-looking clothes.

But Kayla knew that appearances weren’t everything. If there was a deadbeat dad in question, Norleen and her daughter could be wearing clothes they’d bought when she and her husband were still together. A lot of times, families plunged into poverty after a divorce.

She thought about what Mom had told her. How she and Norleen had been friends and played together when they were small, but had been put in different classes. How Norleen had struggled with school, had fallen behind.

When she’d become such a beauty in middle school, it had been a way for her to get the attention and positive strokes she’d lacked before, and she’d ridden that wave all the way to an early pregnancy and marriage, one that hadn’t worked out.

Like any mother, she loved her daughter and wanted the best for her. How hard it would be to walk through a toy store with your child and not be able to buy them what they wanted.

Norleen had been cruel to Kayla years ago, but she’d had her reasons. Now, Kayla had a good life, a job she loved, great friends. She was attractive enough, and was healed from her scoliosis.

Norleen’s healing might well take longer, coming from a deeper ill.

Kayla’s heart went out to the other woman and she almost called out a greeting, but she wasn’t sure she was up to an interaction with Norleen. And then she lost the choice, because Rhianna spotted her and tugged her mother’s arm. “Miss Kayla is here!”

Norleen turned back, blinking rapidly. “Hi, Kayla,” she called, obviously trying to conceal her teary feelings. “Good heavens, what are you wearing?”

Kayla glanced down at her old sweater and jeans. “Um...clothes? I didn’t actually give my outfit a thought when I came out today.”

“I can tell, girlfriend.” Norleen’s voice sounded a little croaky, but she cleared her throat and lifted her chin. “How are you gonna find yourself a man?”

Kayla studied the woman. It was like she was speaking Klingon. “Why would I look for a man in a toy store?” And why would you talk that way in front of your impressionable daughter?

Norleen smiled. “Single dads, you know?” She flashed a smile and stuck out her chest as a man walked by. He smiled back, and the woman with him gave him and Norleen a dirty look.

“Mommy, I want my truck!”

“We don’t have the money for it!” Norleen snapped.

Kayla wavered. Should she hand the truck she was returning to Rhianna? Wouldn’t that undermine Norleen as a mother?

Norleen winked at another man passing by, and he raised an eyebrow and looked her up and down. “See?” Norleen said to Kayla as the man continued on, looking back over his shoulder a couple of times. “That’s how it’s done. You should try harder next time.”

Kayla sighed. Norleen was Norleen. She knelt to hug Rhianna. “Merry Christmas, honey,” she said. “Be nice to your mom,” she added in a whisper.

She turned back into the store and made her way to the counter. She put the item down. “Return?” the tired-sounding clerk asked.

Kayla nodded, then shook her head. “Actually,” she said, “I changed my mind.”

It took less than an hour to go home, rewrap the gift, and find Norleen’s address. She put a “from Santa” label on it and dropped it off secretly in the woman’s front door.

She still felt miserable about all that had happened. But picturing Rhianna’s happiness made her feel a little better, boosted her faith in herself and her ability to heal. She’d get there. She’d be okay.

ITWAS CHRISTMAS EVE. Tony was back in Filmore. And it wasn’t awful.

His brother and sister were surprised but glad to see him and Jax. They’d discerned that something was wrong and had rallied to make Christmas good for all of them. His sister had brought over a decorated Christmas tree and a pile of the gifts she’d planned to give Jax when she came to Pleasant Shores after Christmas. His brother had ordered a takeout feast from a local restaurant, and they’d gone to early Mass. His siblings had raved over Paddington, and they’d found a big red bow to tie around his neck and walked him around the old neighborhood, earning smiles everywhere.

Tony had kept a close eye on Jax, worried about the effect the brief abduction had had on him. But the boy was more obsessed with the fact that Paddington had helped him when he was scared. He wouldn’t leave the dog’s side, and for now, that was okay. Tony could afford to take a little more time before returning to work, stay home with Jax and help him readjust to his hometown.

He would contact Mary about the fact that he wouldn’t be returning to Pleasant Shores to live in Victory Cottage or work at the preschool. Not now, no need to disturb her holiday, but he’d express all his gratitude for what the program had done for him and try to make amends for his own shortcomings.

The Victory Cottage program, the counseling and the refuge and the preschool, all of it had helped. He was a better man than when he’d started out there, and Jax was definitely healing.

“Jax seems like he’s doing great,” Vince said now, echoing his own thoughts. They were sitting in the old front room, a football game on the TV, while Jax played with the new handheld video game he’d been allowed to open early. He lay on his back, his head on Paddington’s midsection, while the big dog lay on his side.

“He is,” Tony agreed. “Even with what happened right before we left Pleasant Shores, he didn’t backslide. He’s stronger.”

“That man shot Mommy,” Jax said conversationally as he played.

Both Tony and his brother snapped to attention, looked at each other, and then focused on Jax. “What man, buddy?” Tony asked.

“The man in the car,” he said. “That’s why I was scared, but Paddington helped me be brave.”

“Could you tell the policemen about that sometime soon?” Tony asked. He didn’t know how much credence would be placed in a four-year-old’s returning memory, but it might be a brick in the wall.

Jax nodded. “If Paddington’s there,” he said.

“I’m sure that would be fine.” Tony quickly texted Evan Stone about Jax’s comment.

There was a return text almost immediately. The man in question was still being held in custody. Evan would report Jax’s words and they’d go from there, after the holiday.

He showed Vince the texts, not wanting to upset Jax. But everything was becoming clear. The reason the man had tried to kidnap Jax was that he suspected Jax would remember and was worried about the boy identifying him.

“So you don’t think you’ll go back?” his brother asked.

“Nah.” Tony tried to sound blasé. “It’s done us some good, but it’s time to get started with real life.” He looked around the room where he’d spent most of his childhood, watching TV with his brother and playing board games with his parents and siblings.

“You running from something?” Vince threw over his shoulder as he walked into the kitchen.

Tony didn’t answer, but he thought about it. Was he running? He’d thought he was running away from Filmore to the idyllic town of Pleasant Shores, but maybe he’d gotten it backward.

“Well, are you?” His brother returned with two beers, handed Tony one, and popped the tab on the other.

“I... Look. There was a woman, but I screwed up.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Vince grinned.

Tony glared at him. “Thanks a lot.”

“We all screw up with women. It’s in the male DNA.”

Well, that was probably true. It was just that Tony had never cared about a woman as much as he cared about Kayla. “Basically,” he said, “I blamed her for what happened to Jax, even though it wasn’t her fault. And then I dumped her.”

“Yeah, that just might make her mad. Can you talk to her? Because I haven’t seen you be this way about a woman for a long time. Maybe ever.”

“I could talk to her, but...why open that door? I don’t want to get involved. I told her that.”

“Because of Stella.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yeah.”

“Because you’re to blame for what happened to her.”

The stark words surprised Tony. “Yeah.” But even as he said it, he thought about what Kayla and Evan Stone and the others had said. He still blamed himself, but maybe not 100 percent.

His brother ran a hand through his hair. “Did you know Stella came to my place after she left yours?”

“What?”

Vince nodded. “She wanted to know if she could stay there. I told her, sure, but she couldn’t use drugs or go out. She got mad and left.”

“Wow.” He hadn’t known that.

“And then,” his brother said, “she went to Pam’s place. Tried to drop Jax off, and Pam said fine, but she had to stay and take care of him. Stella didn’t want to do that, so she left and went downtown. You know the rest of the story.”

Tony was blown away by the fact that his siblings had done basically the same thing he had: criticized Stella and set boundaries for her. Probably not as harshly as Tony had, but in any case, it hadn’t worked. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“We all kept it to ourselves. I felt like a jerk about it. But a week or so ago, Pam and I were talking, and it came out she’d done the same thing. We were going to talk to you when we came to visit. I mean, it’s not like we all did the best job ever, but we were on the same page.”

“Wow.” Tony didn’t know what to say. “So none of us helped her.”

“That’s one way to look at it,” Vince said. “Turns out all of us had given up on the soft and kind approach, and we’d all independently turned toward tough love. Which might have worked, except...”

“Except it didn’t.” They both swigged beer. Jax had fallen asleep on Paddington.

“I want to show you something,” his brother said. He walked over to the built-in bookshelf by the fireplace and pulled a photo album off the shelf. It was one Tony hadn’t seen.

Stella had made it for Jax. It was a collection of photos of all four of them, Tony, Pam, Vince, and Stella, when they were kids. Having fun, riding bikes, going to the lake. Back when Filmore had been a better place to be. Declining even back then, sure, but still with some good neighborhoods and good people.

The captions she’d written in were all about love and family.

Tony’s throat tightened as he paged through. So many photos had him carrying Stella on his back or holding her hand. He’d really been close to her, tried to take care of her. And the way she’d looked up to him... When he’d finished, he couldn’t speak.

“The drugs got her,” his brother said, “but she was a good person. We had a good family. Not perfect, but good. It’s just, everything doesn’t always turn out the way you want it to.”

Tony swallowed hard, nodded.

“If you’re really coming back,” his brother said, “you should get involved with the movement to bring Filmore back to what it was. That’s what you should do for Stella. Not beat yourself up for the rest of your life.”

“I’ll think about that.”

“That woman you screwed up with,” Vince said. “She’s a teacher, right?”

“She is.”

“There are Head Start programs in need of good teachers here,” he said. “Maybe she’d like to take a look. I’m sure she could get a job.”

“I wouldn’t want to bring her from Pleasant Shores to here,” Tony said. Kayla was too good, too pure, for a place like Filmore.

“You could at least have her to visit, ask her.”

The thought of talking to Kayla, bringing her here, telling her about his childhood...it lit a fire in him. An unreasonable fire. “That’s assuming we have a relationship,” he said. “Which we don’t.”

“But you could,” his brother said. “If you could eat crow and apologize and tell her how you feel.”

“You think you know it all,” Tony grumbled.

“You’re older, but not necessarily smarter.” His brother stood and headed for the kitchen, whacking Tony’s shoulder on the way. “I’m going to bed. See you tomorrow.”

Tony should sleep, too, but he felt wide-awake. He carried Jax up to bed and tucked him in, then tapped on his brother’s door and let him know he was running out to the convenience store.

Once in the car, though, he knew he wasn’t headed for the store.

Fifteen minutes later, he was in downtown Filmore. He got out of the car and walked toward the little park where Stella had lost her life.

He wasn’t alone. On the street that bordered the other side of the park, a car door slammed. He could hear quiet voices from that area. In a doorway, a man and a woman argued, their voices rising to shouts, then sinking down again.

Stella, Stella, this was no place to bring a child.

No place for her to be, either. Out of all Filmore’s run-down neighborhoods, this was the most dangerous.

What could she have been doing here, except looking for her next high? Because he knew she’d cared about Jax, had loved him deeply. She hadn’t been a bad person, or stupid.

The drugs, the disease of addiction, was the only magnet that would have been strong enough to override her urge to take care of her son.

He actually remembered bringing Stella and his other siblings to this park as a kid. They’d ridden their bikes, Stella on his handlebars, a few dollars in Tony’s pocket to buy them all ice cream. His parents had both worked, and as soon as Tony was old enough, they’d gladly stopped hiring babysitters in the summer, putting him in charge.

He’d sometimes railed against the responsibility, but he’d known he was essential to his family, and he’d liked that feeling. He liked to be useful and needed. It was why he’d gone into the service, become a petty officer, taken leadership whenever he could. It was why he’d become a counselor and decided to work at the VA.

He liked helping people, and he thought of himself as making a difference in people’s lives. That was what he’d wanted to do.

That was why what had happened to Stella had nearly destroyed him: it had made him feel like he wasn’t himself. Like he wasn’t who he’d thought he was.

He strolled through the park, avoiding a couple of pairs of people. No need for him to get caught up in any danger or violence, not now. Jax needed him.

He reached the spot where Stella had been found—he’d visited here with one of the cops, trying to understand—and knelt on the ground. There was a beer bottle and a sandwich wrapper and other, less savory trash.

He should come clean this park up.

Had Stella remembered their happy times here, before she’d died? Had she even, maybe, been trying to recreate that, bringing Jax here? If so, it had been incredibly misguided, but maybe it had been a last little bit of light in her troubled and drugged mind.

He lay back on the grass and looked up at the stars, keeping his ears open for anyone’s approach. In some ways, this was a foolish risk, but he wanted to know what she’d experienced, at the end.

All of a sudden, he remembered lying with her on the ground at their house when she was small, looking up at the stars, telling her about them, how far away they were, making up the details he didn’t know. Why had they been out so late? He didn’t remember, but he did know he’d told her that her name meant “star.”

She’d cuddled close to him and listened, or he’d thought so, until he’d looked over and seen that she was asleep.

He’d stayed a little while, just enjoying the feel of her head on his shoulder, her warm little body next to him. The trusting way she’d been with him.

Oh, Stella. Why did you go the wrong way?

He looked up at the stars. Maybe, from their faraway perspective, a plan was visible, one he didn’t understand. Or maybe not. Maybe it was all random.

Whichever was the case, since he was a stronger person, he needed to help others. That was a message his parents had drilled into him, and he believed it.

He’d failed with Stella. No matter how much Kayla told him only toddlers blamed themselves for everything that happened around them, and no matter that his siblings had also pushed Stella too hard, that didn’t negate his own culpability.

He was starting to realize, though, that everyone made mistakes. Sometimes, big, ugly, major ones.

Did it serve the world, did it serve Jax, for Tony to obsess about his mistake and his guilt?

Was there maybe another way he could help the world?

Caring for his nephew, sure, but maybe there was more he could do for Filmore, like his brother had said.

And maybe it wasn’t all about making things better for other people who were strangers. Maybe, he could make things better with someone closer to home and closer to his heart.

He’d been wrong to accuse Kayla, wrong to back off from her after the closeness they’d shared. He hated to leave things in such a bad place with her.

Was there anything he could do to fix that?

Because if he wasn’t just going to curl up and die from guilt, then he was going to have to live in the world. Of course he was; he had to take care of his nephew.

And he had to set right what he could. Kayla had been nothing but kind and good to him. And he’d thrown that goodness back in her face.

He had to apologize, and not just say he was sorry, show it. He had to make sure she understood that she wasn’t to blame. Knowing Kayla, she’d be beating herself up for it.

Or maybe not, because just in the time he’d known her, Kayla seemed to have gotten stronger and more confident. Maybe she was just rolling her eyes at how ridiculous Tony was, on the way to moving on with her life.

Either way, he needed to man up and apologize. But was Christmas the right day to do it?

And could he pull off a proper apology by tomorrow?

ASTHELIGHTSof the church dimmed, Sylvie lit her candle from Ria’s, next to her, and then passed the light to the next person down the row. Watching the flame move from person to person was magical.

She was glad she’d come. Though she felt blue from the breakup with Big Bobby, she’d accepted Ria’s invitation to sit with them at church, had gotten a smile from Steve’s encouraging text, and here she was.

The organ swelled with music, and the familiar words of “Silent Night” came right back to her, probably from childhood. All was calm and bright, or at least, getting that way. And the promised heavenly peace just might be coming to her.

There was a moment of silence when the hymn ended, and then Steve gave the benediction and they all extinguished their candles. The lights came back up, and people grabbed coats and helped kids into jackets and greeted each other.

There was hot chocolate and cider in the church lobby, and trays of Christmas cookies, and people lingered around, even though it was late. Ria and Drew were talking to friends, and Sylvie was glad to stay a little in the warmth and brightness. The thought of going back to her motel room to spend the rest of Christmas Eve threatened to bring her blues right back.

All the Christmas Eves of her past seemed to come marching by her, something like what had happened to Ebenezer Scrooge in A Christmas Carol. The childhood ones, disappointing or scary. Back then, an uneventful Christmas was the best thing to be expected.

It had actually been during the Christmas season that she’d met Big Bobby. He’d picked her up when she’d been shivering in a short dress and heels, her first night on the street. He’d taken her to a motel room and she’d lost it and cried. Instead of getting angry, he’d listened to her story and calmed her worries about the hustler she’d just started working for. Bobby had been big and strong and confident, much older than she was, and he’d simply taken her home. Later, she was pretty sure there had been some sort of negotiation, because he’d reassured her that there was nothing to fear.

He’d done so much for her. Saved her, really. But he’d also had other women, had a child with one of them. Life wasn’t black and white; it was all kinds of shades of silvery gray. She’d done the right thing, ending their relationship, but the thought of her first holiday without him was lonely.

“We’ll be ready to go in a few minutes,” Ria said apologetically, as she snagged another cookie. “It’s just, we like to talk to everyone, Drew especially. It’s hard to make him leave.”

“I’m fine,” Sylvie said truthfully. “Take your time. I have a few people I still want to speak with, too.” Mainly, she meant Primrose, she told herself. Not the pastor, who’d taken off his minister’s garb and was making the rounds in a red sweater and Santa hat.

“Most of the young people are at Bisky’s, I think,” Ria said. “In fact, we can head over there if you’d like. That party goes on way into the night.”

Sylvie shook her head. “Not unless you two want to go. In fact, if you do, I’ll probably walk back to the motel by myself. Just not in a party mood.”

“Us, either. We’ll go soon.” And Ria waved and returned to her husband’s side.

Primrose rolled up on her scooter. She wore a red sweater that looked like cashmere, soft black velvet slacks, and pearls. Her hair was newly done, her makeup perfect.

“You look so nice!” Sylvie said. “You put the rest of us to shame!”

Primrose waved a hand, but the color that rose to her cheeks told Sylvie the compliment had pleased her. “Church is the highlight of my Christmas holiday,” she said. “May as well dress for the occasion. You look pretty, too.”

“Thank you.” Sylvie sat down on the edge of a chair to be at Primrose’s level. “Do you have plans for tomorrow?”

“I’ll go to dinner at Mary Rhoades’s place,” Primrose said. “She always invites a number of us single folks. In fact, you’re welcome to join us, I’m sure.”

“Thank you, but Ria and Drew invited me to dinner.” It was nice that so many people opened their homes in Pleasant Shores. No one had to spend a holiday alone.

“I wonder where Pastor Steve will spend the day,” Primrose said, eyes speculative. “Maybe Ria and Drew have an extra space at the table.”

The thought was a nice one. “I like him,” Sylvie admitted. “But...” She lifted her hands, palms up. “It’s been a wild few days. Emotionally, I mean. I don’t know if I’m coming or going, and I definitely don’t have leftover energy for men.”

“I understand.” Primrose smiled at her. “Let’s compare notes after tomorrow. We single women have to stick together.”

“I’d like that,” Sylvie said, and hugged the older woman.

She watched Primrose move toward the exit and then noticed Steve making his way toward her. Her heart gave a little extra skip. She stood to meet him.

People kept stopping him to talk and greet and hug. That was what life would be like for whatever woman got together with him: open and expansive, social, lots of people involved. It was who he was. His congregation clearly adored him, and he fully met that adoration and returned it, kneeling to laugh with a preschool-aged child, gently hugging an elderly woman, bouncing a crying baby to make him laugh.

He was clearly into it, high on it. But he kept glancing in her direction.

Finally he reached her. “I’m glad you stayed,” he said, eyes frankly appreciative, and she was glad she’d worn her prettiest green dress, knowing it brought out the color of her eyes. “You look great.”

“Thank you.” She smiled at him, feeling suddenly shy. “It was a wonderful service.”

“It’s always good when there’s more singing and less preaching,” he said, easily self-deprecating. “Do you have a place to be tomorrow?”

She nodded. “Ria and Drew invited me over.”

“Good.” His eyes were steady on her.

The place was emptying out now, people calling greetings to one another, a couple of ladies putting cookies away, a teenager carrying the big carafe of hot chocolate toward the church kitchen.

Drew and Ria walked toward the door, slowly, talking and laughing. When Ria glanced back, Sylvie waved a hand, putting up a finger to indicate she was coming. “I have to go. Merry Christmas, Pastor Steve.”

She put out a hand as if to shake his and ended up opening her arms for a hug. He smiled and pulled her close—not too close, nothing disrespectful, but she could smell his faint cologne and feel his muscular chest against her. She had to admit she liked it.

He squeezed her a little closer before letting her go, and when he did, his eyes lingered on her face. “I’d like to see you in the new year,” he said.

She lifted an eyebrow. “For Bible study?” She was pretty sure that wasn’t what he meant, but he was easy to tease.

His smile broadened. “Yes, of course. Tuesday mornings or Wednesday nights. But I meant socially. There are a couple of nice restaurants up the coast we could try.”

He wasasking her out, and it was tempting. She liked what she knew of him, wanted to know him better. And the thought of a nice date, of someone treating her like she was special, appealed to her in all kinds of ways.

But she’d centered her life around a man for too long. “I appreciate the offer,” she said, “but I need to see how I am by myself for now. Maybe a walk along the bay.” But that sounded romantic, too. “Or maybe Bible study really is the best place to start.”

His face fell a little, but he quickly got back his smile. “The Bible is always the best place to start,” he said. “Friends, then?”

“Friends,” she said, giving him another quick, awkward little hug. “Merry Christmas.”