Chapter One
The notes of “I’ll Be Home for Christmas” wafted through the air. It seemed that no matter how many spritely and cheerful Christmas songs there were, I never heard any but the melancholy ones lately. Those that weren’t blatantly sad served to remind me of what I was missing this Christmas. Who wanted to hear about couples cuddling in front of the fire when they were spending the holiday alone? And who cared if Parson Brown asked to marry them when they couldn’t get their boyfriend to commit to living in the same state?
I tugged my red wool cap down farther over my ears, shoved dark glasses on to block the sun from my aching eyes, and headed to the library. I wanted to snarl at whatever idiot had his music playing so loud in the staff parking lot, but it wasn’t worth the effort of speaking. Today was the last day of classes before winter break at the university, and I had exactly six hours of work at the library before my holiday, such as it was, started.
My boots crunched on the salted sidewalk as I wove my way between beleaguered students. The last finals were today, and the stress showed on everyone’s faces. When the third student with his nose in a book nearly slammed into me, I darted from the semi-clear sidewalk and tromped through the new layer of snow. I took bitter satisfaction in marring that pristine sparkling surface with my boot prints. I didn’t even care that this little side excursion might ruin my leather boots. Who cared? They were sleek and sexy, not real cold weather boots, but if no one was going to admire me in them, then what was the point?
Six miserable hours that I wished would drag out for four more days. I wasn’t looking forward to going home at the end of this shift and spending the next few days being reminded that I was alone. I’d have way too much time to think about Cris and our years together. He should have been there. We’d planned for him to be there. Except, last weekend he’d called and told me about a new offer he had for an excellent position, great benefits, no more traveling. I could tell he really wanted that job.
I really wanted him to be around more, too. So I told him to go for it. Then the other shoe fell. I should have known there was a catch. There was always a catch. Turned out the only time he could interview for this position was Christmas Eve.
I’d assured him it was fine, that all would be well, that my family would keep me busy and I’d barely miss him if he stayed in California for the interview. After all, we weren’t kids. He could arrive on December 26th and we could celebrate just fine.
But I was lying and he damn sure should have known it. Cris just accepted it though. Accepted and carried on as we always had, calling and texting and emailing and having our lovely long distance, open relationship.
The one I was beginning to loathe with all my being.
The familiar chirp of my cell phone had me reaching into my pocket, pausing near some evergreen shrubs just outside the library. I pushed my hair back over my shoulder as the wind whipped around the corner and sent it flying. Thin strands clung to the Chapstick that I’d lined my lips with. Ordinarily I’d have used my favorite lip maximizer, but I’d been so down, I hadn’t bothered to go through my usual winter ritual of applying mashed papaya paste to exfoliate and soften my lips. Which I guess was kind of crazy, because the whole purpose of the ritual was to keep my lips kissable in appearance and texture despite the dry cold, and just because Cris was arriving four days late didn’t mean there wouldn’t be plenty of kissing when he got here,
“Hello.” I should have checked to see who it was before I answered. It was Cris, and I had to pretend to be cheerful and brimming with Christmas spirit when I was anything but.
“Hey, Ben, I just called to remind you to get the tree after work today. You said last night that you hadn’t gotten it yet, and I know it’s
The notes of “I’ll Be Home for Christmas” wafted through the air. It seemed that no matter how many spritely and cheerful Christmas songs there were, I never heard any but the melancholy ones lately. Those that weren’t blatantly sad served to remind me of what I was missing this Christmas. Who wanted to hear about couples cuddling in front of the fire when they were spending the holiday alone? And who cared if Parson Brown asked to marry them when they couldn’t get their boyfriend to commit to living in the same state?
I tugged my red wool cap down farther over my ears, shoved dark glasses on to block the sun from my aching eyes, and headed to the library. I wanted to snarl at whatever idiot had his music playing so loud in the staff parking lot, but it wasn’t worth the effort of speaking. Today was the last day of classes before winter break at the university, and I had exactly six hours of work at the library before my holiday, such as it was, started.
My boots crunched on the salted sidewalk as I wove my way between beleaguered students. The last finals were today, and the stress showed on everyone’s faces. When the third student with his nose in a book nearly slammed into me, I darted from the semi-clear sidewalk and tromped through the new layer of snow. I took bitter satisfaction in marring that pristine sparkling surface with my boot prints. I didn’t even care that this little side excursion might ruin my leather boots. Who cared? They were sleek and sexy, not real cold weather boots, but if no one was going to admire me in them, then what was the point?
Six miserable hours that I wished would drag out for four more days. I wasn’t looking forward to going home at the end of this shift and spending the next few days being reminded that I was alone. I’d have way too much time to think about Cris and our years together. He should have been there. We’d planned for him to be there. Except, last weekend he’d called and told me about a new offer he had for an excellent position, great benefits, no more traveling. I could tell he really wanted that job.
I really wanted him to be around more, too. So I told him to go for it. Then the other shoe fell. I should have known there was a catch. There was always a catch. Turned out the only time he could interview for this position was Christmas Eve.
I’d assured him it was fine, that all would be well, that my family would keep me busy and I’d barely miss him if he stayed in California for the interview. After all, we weren’t kids. He could arrive on December 26th and we could celebrate just fine.
But I was lying and he damn sure should have known it. Cris just accepted it though. Accepted and carried on as we always had, calling and texting and emailing and having our lovely long distance, open relationship.
The one I was beginning to loathe with all my being.
The familiar chirp of my cell phone had me reaching into my pocket, pausing near some evergreen shrubs just outside the library. I pushed my hair back over my shoulder as the wind whipped around the corner and sent it flying. Thin strands clung to the Chapstick that I’d lined my lips with. Ordinarily I’d have used my favorite lip maximizer, but I’d been so down, I hadn’t bothered to go through my usual winter ritual of applying mashed papaya paste to exfoliate and soften my lips. Which I guess was kind of crazy, because the whole purpose of the ritual was to keep my lips kissable in appearance and texture despite the dry cold, and just because Cris was arriving four days late didn’t mean there wouldn’t be plenty of kissing when he got here,
“Hello.” I should have checked to see who it was before I answered. It was Cris, and I had to pretend to be cheerful and brimming with Christmas spirit when I was anything but.
“Hey, Ben, I just called to remind you to get the tree after work today. You said last night that you hadn’t gotten it yet, and I know it’s
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