Mom was showing signs of progress, baby steps but in the right direction. She’d finally agreed to attend the survivors’ support group that Mrs. Samm told her about, and had returned from her first visit a little more peaceful.
Our financial crisis wasn’t over. I still worked at the bookstore. After I graduated in January, I’d be able to double production on the shoes, but it would be a while before we’d be as safe as I wanted us to be. Yet the family income now had sufficient funds to cover the bills and eat better. I had even worked out a reasonable payment plan with the hospital to cover Henry’s emergency room visit. Success was the best gift ever.
I put on a pot of coffee for me and Eli and a teakettle of water for Mom. Then I peeked into the dining room to check the table settings. Everything was ready.
A quick glance at the clock let me know that Eli could be here any second. I grabbed a blanket and a small present and then unlocked the front door. A cold wind gusted, whipping a loose strand of hair across my face and rattling the leaves on the lawn. I sat on the top step and stared through the darkness at the stop sign near the end of the street, willing a black Mustang to appear.
As the sun made its first rosy streaks across the horizon, the faint hum of a car broke the silence. Moments later, Eli pulled into the driveway and got out, a smile on his face.
He set a stack of presents on the porch behind us and joined me on the top step. “Merry Christmas,” I said.
“Merry Christmas to you too.”
“Are those for us?”
“Yes.”
“You got something for Henry?”
“Yes. And your mom.”
“What a good boy you’ve been this year. I have something for you too.” I handed over a small box. “Open it.” I quivered with nerves.
He rested it on his lap as his face settled into a serious expression. “So, I have a question for you first.”
“Okay.”
He took a deep breath. “One of the guys on the varsity soccer team is throwing a New Year’s Eve party, and I was wondering if you’d like to go with me.”
Wow. I had begun to sense that his feelings were changing. It started a couple of weeks ago when he let me drive his Mustang. That was a big deal for him. It had made me wonder if he wanted more. Even now, I could see the hope warring with worry on his face, and I wanted him to be happy, especially on this day. But…this felt weird and nice and too soon. “As your date or as your friend?”
He looked away. “Your call.”
It had been three months. Our friendship was important to me. Maybe it was time to see if I was ready. Eli was making it easy. No pressure. I leaned closer and kissed his cheek. “Yes, I’ll go with you.”
His eyes sought mine, shining with joy. “Great. That’s… great. Yeah.” Reaching behind him, he pushed the largest gift box forward. “This is yours. Go ahead and open it.”
I pointed at the present on his lap. “You first.”
“No, I insist. Ladies first.”
“It is better to give than to receive.”
“Okay. You win.” He took the package, ripped off the comic-strip paper, and pulled out a hand-crocheted scarf in caramel brown.
“I made it myself,” I said. “It’s supposed to match your eyes.”
He looped it around his neck. “Thank you.”
“You don’t have to wear it if you don’t like it. I mean, I’m not very good yet and I understand you can do better—”
“It’s amazing, Lacey,” he interrupted. “No one’s ever made me a gift before.”
I leaned back to check his expression, which was gratifying and genuine. It was stupid to feel so pleased. “Really? You like it?”
“Yes, really. Now open yours.”
The package seemed heavy for its size. “What do you have in here? Rocks?”
He smiled. “You’ll see.”
With an excited laugh, I slowly peeled the tape away from the paper. It was beautiful, expensive wrapping paper, metallic embossed gold, which I could reuse on other occasions for smaller gifts—an idea which had, no doubt, occurred to Eli.
The paper was forgotten when I realized what it hid. The music box.
My
music box. Grant’s music box.
I stared in stunned silence, unable to believe my eyes.
Eli twisted the key. “I bought it, the same day you sold it.” He lifted the lid.
Silent night, Holy night. All is calm, All is bright…
I put the lid down and laid my hands on the polished wood. I could feel a pulse. Grant was inside, perhaps listening to us. Emotions welled up within me, threatening to burst the dam I’d placed around my feelings for him.
How ironic. Eli returned Grant to me.
“Lacey?” There was uncertainty in Eli’s voice.
“This is wonderful.” Which was completely true. Somewhere inside here, Grant waited. With a single word, I could summon him. Be with him. Hold him.
How could something that I wanted so badly make me want to cry?
I’d released him all those months ago, so that he could continue with the life he was meant to live. And instead, he’d been waiting at Eli’s house for me.
There was only one option available to me—find him a new assignment. He deserved his promotion, and the world deserved him. I knew plenty of people with problems to solve. The Tuckers, the Reys, Mrs. Williford, some of the folks in Mom’s support group. I would find him the right place to be.
“Thank you.” I put the music box down and smiled into Eli’s anxious face. “I absolutely love that you got this music box for me. I can’t even begin to tell you how much.”
From within the house, pounding feet charged down the hallway. The door banged open as Henry shouted, “Lacey, when does Eli get here?”
We laughed.
“I’m here now,” Eli said.
“Cool.” Henry nodded before turning to me. “Lacey, have you seen the tree?”
“Yes.”
“Have you seen what’s under the tree?”
I shared a smile with Eli. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Come and see.” The door slammed shut and then squawked again. “Lacey, the oven is beeping.”
“Oh, yeah. The cinnamon rolls.”
Eli helped me up and then bent over to pick up the stack of gifts. “Come on. Let’s go in.”
“Can you help Henry check the rolls? I’d like to take the music box to my room.”
“Sure.”
We walked into the house together. Eli went straight into the living room while I continued to the attic stairwell.
“Henry, I’ll need an oven mitt…” Eli’s voice faded.
I reached my room, closed the door with my foot, and placed the music box in the center of my desk. Backing up, I perched on the edge of the bed and stared at my gift.
My feelings began to liquefy, oozing like warm syrup through my limbs. I longed for the sight of Grant, and I feared it. Would he be angry at his confinement? Would he be happy to see me? How much had he heard?
The clock ticked downstairs. Henry would be up here after me soon. It was time. “Grant?”
The tornado swirled and cleared. He stood before me, alert and wary, hands behind his back in his subservient stance.
“Hey.” I stood too.
“Yes, Mistress?”
He was hurting. His eyes seemed to be glazed with pain.
I was hurting too. For months, I’d thought he was lost to me forever. Seeing him now was beautiful and agonizing. It was all I could do to keep from grabbing him and never letting go. “I’m not your mistress anymore.”
“As long as I owe you wishes, you are.”
That was unexpected, since he’d been out of my reach since September. “What about Eli? Doesn’t he get wishes?”
“My boss doesn’t activate a new assignment until he is sure the possessor intends to keep the box. In Eli’s case, it was clear from the beginning that he intended to give it away.”
“So you’ve had a break?”
“Yes. I’ve stayed busy with meetings and my studies.”
We were being too polite. Too impersonal. Why did it have to be this way? Why couldn’t I have fallen in love with someone who could love me back, free and clear? I took a step closer, aching to touch him, to be held. “How are you?”
“Well.” His gaze dropped to the copper bracelet on my wrist and then flicked back up. “Have you replaced me with Eli?”
I shook my head. “I can’t replace you, Grant.
Ever
.”
“But you have moved on.”
“No, I haven’t. Not yet.”
He breathed in sharply and then exhaled through his mouth. A lonely sound.
Okay, that was enough. I wanted to touch him, and I would. If he rejected me, it would be worth it. Reaching for him, I slid my arms about his waist and pressed my face to his chest. Beneath my cheek, his heart quickened its pace. I braced myself to be pushed away.
“Lacey,” he said in a strangled voice. There was a moment’s hesitation, and then his arms enclosed me in a light embrace. “What are we doing?”
“I’ve missed you,” I murmured.
“I’ve missed you too.” He shuddered. “I didn’t want this.”
“Please try to understand.”
“I do.”
“Really?”
He nodded against my hair. “I didn’t when we parted, but I understand now.”
That wasn’t quite forgiveness, but I’d take it. “Have you learned more about being chosen?” I looked up into his face.
“Yes.”
“Was I a blemish?”
“No. You are perfect.” He smiled sadly. “However, the leave of absence would have been a blemish.”
A tight ball of sorrow eased within me. Here was confirmation that my decision hadn’t been a waste. “So being chosen is still a possibility for you?”
“As far as I know, yes.” His hand cupped my face. “Thank you.”
This time, my smile was wide and hopeful. He smiled back, the sadness fading.
“Okay, then.” I stepped away from him and squared my shoulders in my most businesslike manner. “It’s time for you to be promoted to principal. May I suggest a friend for your next assignment?”
“You may.”
“Would your boss approve of Kimberley?”
“Kimberley?” Grant’s brow creased. “Because of the cancer?”
“How do you know about that?”
“My boss and I have discussed all of your friends.”
All of them? How many had they included?
Never mind. Did not want to know.
I would take it as a good sign that Grant already knew about Kimberley. Maybe this meant she was pre-approved. “Then you know that she had leukemia at age seven and that the chemo affected her brain.”
“Yes, I do.” He sounded professional, competent, as if talking about his job felt good. “She will present unusual difficulties, but I am certain we can help her.”
Okay, here came the hard part. The thing that we both had to acknowledge and get through. “We would see each other sometimes.”
He nodded, his calm expression firmly in place. “Will you keep the music box?”
“I would like to.” I loved it. The music box brought me and Grant together. I didn’t want to give it up.
He inclined his head. “When should I be ready?”
“Probably this week, as soon as I find you a nice place to live.” There were several possibilities. A Christmas ornament shaped like a house. A snow globe with a castle. An old Barbie dollhouse—although that one might be especially hard to slide past Teresa Rey without a lot of explanation.
“I shall be waiting.”
I clasped both of his hands with mine, reluctant to let go. Knowing that I must.
He leaned forward and kissed my brow. I closed my eyes and memorized the feel of it. “Hey, Lacey,” my brother yelled up the stairwell. “What’s taking you so long?”
“Be right there,” I called. After one final squeeze, I released Grant’s hands. “I’ve got to go.”
“Lacey.” He looked away, took a deep breath, and then met my gaze again. “Would you like a final wish?”
My last wish. I walked slowly to the door and paused. I could hear Eli, Henry, and Mom in the kitchen, preparing breakfast. Someone had turned on a Christmas CD. It was exactly right. There was nothing else I wanted, at least not for me.
I smiled at Grant. “I wish you well.”
This was the little book that could. It was my first fully realized novel. It took six years and dozens of rewrites to go from concept to publication. It’s hard to count the number of people who helped, but I’ll try. Thank you to all of the contest judges who critiqued this book. Your feedback—kind or not—made the story stronger. To Laura Steckbeck, Laura Ownbey, Anna Masrud, Anna Rodriguez, Hannah Brodie, and Sabrina, your comments were invaluable; it won’t take much effort to see your suggestions throughout. To Tia, Tom, and Mark, thanks for extraordinary patience in the face of my curiosity. To my writing buddies in RomVets, RWA, Rubies, HCRW, Capital Eyes, and Retreaters, thank you for having my back. To Jessica, Rich, and Spencer Hill Press, I am so glad to be in a publishing family that takes such good care of its authors. To my amazing agent, Kevan Lyon, I’m grateful that you didn’t give up on this one! But mostly, to Amy, Julianna, and Rick—it took love, faith, and understanding to give me the freedom to write. There are no words.
Elizabeth lives in North Carolina (midway between the beaches and the mountains) with two daughters, one husband, and too many computers. When she’s not writing software or stories, Elizabeth loves to travel, watch dance reality shows, and argue with her family over which restaurant to visit next. She is also the author of the
Whisper Falls
series;
I Wish
is the first book in her new series.