Calendar Girl 12 - December

E
asing
out of a bed covered in a massive amount of blankets, coupled with the added weight of my man’s arm wrapped around my waist in a vice grip, is harder than one would think. We’d taken the red eye to Aspen, Colorado and arrived before the sun the next day. Wes led me through his family’s cabin, and I use that term lightly. What little I saw of it was already bigger than our home in Malibu, California. We got to his room where we fell to the bed in a heap of limbs. I would bet we were both asleep before our heads even hit the pillow.

At the moment though, I was wide awake, and from the little bit of light peeking through the curtain, it was probably midday. Doing the inch away, shift, and squiggle out of Wes’s arms, attempting not to wake him, I exited the bed and froze. As in a tank and panties would not cut it. The room was absolutely freezing. Tiptoeing over to the thermostat, I hiked the temperature up to seventy-five.
Let’s put the heater to the test!

I walked around, found the bathroom, and did my business as quietly as a mouse before locating my suitcase. I found a pair of yoga pants, one of Wes’s hoodies, and my ultra-fuzzy slippers. Mrs. Croft back home had assured me that I’d need them, and she was right. I’d have to remember to thank her later for her foresight.

Much warmer and suited up, I left our room and walked down the stairs. When I got halfway down, I stopped. Across from the stairs was an entire wall of floor-to-ceiling windows. Beyond that was an endless sea of mountains. Winter white with dots of green and black as rocks and trees protruded through the thick layer of snow covering each mountain. Breathtaking. There was no other word for it. Like a zombie, I walked over to the French doors, unlocked and opened them both, letting a wall of frosted air slam into my body and psyche. Instantly, my breath formed a heated mist as I stared dreamily at what was most certainly God’s doing.

When I looked out over the beach and Pacific Ocean back home, it would ground me and make me feel at peace. Looking out over the vast mountain range was anything but serene. It was majestic, unreal, as if I were staring into a photograph, not the real thing.

Boom!

Mind. Blown.

Out of nowhere, a pair of arms circled my chest, tugging me into the warmth behind.

Wes’s chin nuzzled into the space at my neck and shoulder. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

I let out a slow breath. “It’s so much more than that.”

Wes kissed my neck, the heat from his skin tingling against mine. “I’m glad you like it, since this is going to be our home for the next two and a half weeks.” His voice was a rumble I could feel through my back and in every pore.

“I will not be complaining,” I said, still awed at Mother Nature’s beauty.

He chuckled. “You say that now. Let us remember how much you like snow in a few days when we’re digging our car out of it.”

I pursed my lips, which wrinkled my nose. Wes loved when I did that. Even now he glanced at me, smiled, and turned to lay a kiss on my cheek.

“How about some breakfast?” he asked.

At the mention of breakfast, my stomach growled. “I’m going to go with a ‘yeah’ on that one,” I quipped.

He grinned and left me to my viewing. “Don’t stay out too long. You’ll freeze your ass off.”

“Hopefully, only the flabby parts!” I turned and smacked his bum just as he was entering the house.

Wes was right, and within a couple more minutes, I was freezing my ass off—figuratively—so I went back inside to help my man make breakfast.

As I entered, I found a chenille throw hanging over one of the cushy chairs and wrapped it around my shoulders.

Wes was busy at the counter, pulling pans out and prepping for bacon. He said he’d called ahead and had the caretakers fill the place with the basics. We’d need to go shopping, but they had taken care of the basic amenities like eggs, bacon, milk, butter, and coffee, which I was supremely thankful for.

I went about making the coffee while Wes grilled the bacon and heated the pan for fried eggs.

“So what do you want to do today?” he asked, waggling his eyebrows.

I rolled my own eyes. “Not that.”

His eyebrows rose.

“Okay, yes,
that
, but not right now. I’m eager to get a lay of the land. Check out the town, get more groceries, and find out where the local yokels show their art. It’ll help me plan how I’m going to present this piece. Besides, the camera crew will be here in a couple days, so we’ll need to be prepared for a week with them.”

Wes nodded and continued to make breakfast. Once we’d eaten, we showered, where he reminded me I definitely wanted a little of
that
, before we jumped in the rental car and headed toward the main strip.

I
was not prepared
for the extreme beauty that hit me the moment we drove into the downtown area. Excited, I got out of the car and spun around in a circle. The scenery stole my breath as I soaked in the grandeur of the mountains. It was as if the downtown area had been set inside of a basin, hidden smack dab in the center of the Earth. People roamed in and out of the shops, wearing bright colors that stood out against the snowy backdrop of the towering mountains in the distance.

“Now I get it,” I whispered as I continued to stare wide-eyed at the glory surrounding us.

“You get what?” Wes asked, grabbing my gloved hand. Still, through layers of leather and wool, I was able to feel his warmth seep into my palm.

“Why this place is so desirable. It’s astonishing. I’ve been to Lake Tahoe and seen snow-covered mountains before, skied them, too, but nothing compares to this.” I let out a slow breath, trying to take it all in, knowing I wouldn’t be able to. There was far too much to appreciate. Hopefully, over the next two weeks or so, the majesty of it would sink in to my memory banks so I could go back and visit it whenever I felt I was dying of heat stroke living in southern California.

Wes glanced at the enormous mountains. “No, I see where you’re coming from. I’ve been here so many times, it will be nice seeing it from your perspective through new eyes.”

I smiled and squeezed his hand.

“Where to first?” I asked, hoping he’d lead the way.

He tugged me to his side where he looped an arm around my shoulders. “Let’s get a hot beverage here”—he pointed at Colorado Coffee—“and then we’ll walk a bit. Sound good?”

I leaned against his side. “Anything with you sounds good. Thanks for coming, by the way.” I rubbed my chin along his neck.

Wes smiled so wide I was sure the sunlight glinted off his pearly whites making them seem brighter. Delight reached his green eyes and melted me on the spot. Seeing him at ease, comfortable in his own skin and filled with a sense of peace would be enough to make me happy for a century.

There was just something about Wes that called to me. It spoke directly to the essence of my being. In equal parts, it made me blissfully happy and scared me senseless. The joy, however, far outweighed the fear, and I suspected this would always be the case with us as we got closer to making our vows to one another.

It was hard to believe that in just over three short weeks I’d be Mrs. Weston Channing. I still couldn’t wrap my brain around it.

As we walked, Wes pointed out different hot spots for nighttime dining and prospective locations to imbibe a few cocktails and other spirits if the mood struck. We made it all the way to Main Street where I spied a quaint pink building that sat right on the corner. It was named simply Main Street Bakery & Café.

I pointed it out to Wes. “Have you eaten at that cute place over there?” I asked.

As he was responding, a woman around my height exited. She was lean, wrapped in a wicked cool leather jacket that went down to her knees and was tied with a belt at the waist. A hot pink scarf floated in the breeze across her front, drawing immediate attention to her neck. Her very familiar pitch-black hair hung in loose curls around her shoulders. I squinted, trying desperately to see more of the woman’s face, but she was looking down into her bag.

“And they have the best eggs benedict…” I heard Wes’s words filter in and out of my mind but my focus was solely on the woman across the street. A tingling sensation sprang up along my nerves, confusing me.

The woman’s shape, hair, and the bone structure I could see reminded me so much of someone I knew. A strong sensation of familiarity niggled at the deepest recesses of my brain, and I took a few steps closer to the curb, catty-corner to the bakery. The woman pulled out a pair of sunglasses, and right before she put them on, her eyes met mine. I gasped and jumped back, slamming into Wes with the burden of weight that simple look hit me with.

“It can’t be…” I choked out, my mouth unable to form any more words with the jumble of emotions swirling around me.

Anger.

Frustration.

Desperation.

Helplessness.

Abandonment, and everything in between, shot through my body like a freight train barreling through the countryside.

“What, Mia? What’s the matter? Sweetheart, you’re white as a ghost.”

I blinked a few times and looked at Wes standing in front of me, hands cuffing my biceps, holding me firmly. “I, I…it can’t be her.” I shook my head and glanced around him, but the woman was gone. Disappeared as if she’d never been there at all.

“B-B-But she was right there!” I glanced at the other businesses and down the sidewalks. Nothing. Gone.

“Who? Who did you think you saw?” Wes asked, concern tingeing his tone.

I swallowed the golf-ball sized lump in my throat, and with tears in my eyes, looked at the man who intended to commit his life to me forever. He would never abandon me. With the security and strength that realization gave me, I sucked in a cool burst of air and said her name.

“Meryl Colgrove.”

Wes frowned and his eyebrows came together. “Baby, I’m not keeping up. Who’s Meryl Colgrove?”

“My mother.”

W
es
and I looked up and down the streets for a good ten minutes, scanning the storefronts and peeking inside. Nothing. The woman was just gone.

Wes hustled me back to the rental car, and we went back to his family cabin. I didn’t say anything the entire time, far too lost in my own emotions to utter a word.

That couldn’t have been her. It was as if she’d appeared out of nowhere. The Fates could not be that cruel. The odds of Meryl Colgrove being dropped into the small town I was staying in for the
Living Beautiful
segment and the holiday were out of this world.

What if she lives here?

No way. I had to have been seeing things. Besides, I hadn’t seen my mother in over fifteen years. The likelihood that I’d run into her in Aspen, Colorado seemed ridiculous. It was just someone who looked a lot like her, or the woman I remembered anyway.

My thoughts were swirling around in my head like a tornado. Random. Erratic. Devastating.

By the time we got back to the cabin, I’d convinced myself that it wasn’t possible the woman was my mother. I’d seen someone who looked surprisingly similar, and that was that. End of story. Nothing to worry about. However, my guy hadn’t come to the same conclusion.

When we entered the cabin, he walked right over to the built-in bar area, plucked out two glass tumblers, and filled each with about two fingers of an amber-colored liquid from a crystal decanter.

“Drink?” It was the first word he said since I’d told him I thought I’d seen my mother.

“Sure.” I sat on one of the lush, high bar seats that swiveled and even had arms. These were nothing like a cheapo set you could get at the local big box store. I ran my fingers across the distressed grommets that looked battered into place in a way that suggested rustic chic.

Wes took a healthy swallow of the whiskey. His Adam’s apple bobbed enticingly, calling to the woman within me.

He leaned forward, placed his elbows on the bar top. “What do you think? Was it her?” he asked calmly.

I could tell from the tension in his body and the uncertainty in his eyes that he didn’t know the best way to approach a conversation about a woman I’d very rarely spoken of with him. And my reaction probably gave a pretty good indication of how I felt about the woman who had borne me.

“Don’t know for sure.” I shrugged. “The likeness was uncanny.”

Wes nodded. “Why are we here, Mia?”

My shoulders rose up automatically toward my ears as the tension started to get to me. “I don’t know, baby. It’s weird. Shandi, Dr. Hoffman’s assistant, told us to come. She set everything up with the team and told me the assignment.”

“When are we supposed to meet with this mountain man? The guy that made a
healthy
donation”
—Wes actually made air quotes—“to the show on behalf of the local artisans, one being his wife.”

I couldn’t deny that the whole thing was strange. However, I was used to strange. Peculiar even. My entire year had been built on a random chain of events that led me where I was needed or sent. So far, it had worked out. I’d met the man I was going to marry. Made heaps of lifelong friends. Found my brother, Maxwell. Saved my father. And started a new career that I loved. I’d had serious bumps in the road, but it all worked out to my advantage in the end. I personally didn’t want to spend a lot of time questioning it.

Slipping off the chair, I rounded the bar, went over to my man, and wrapped my arms around his waist. “His name is Kent Banks. Believe it or not, I thought it was a little odd, too. So I called up Max, told him about it, and you know what happened then?” I grinned.

My brother was ridiculously protective of Maddy and me. Hearing that some random guy out in the hills specifically requested and supposedly paid some serious money to get me to do a segment on something as simple as local artists didn’t jibe with him and his alpha maleness. In fact, it apparently sent up the protective prickles to the extreme.

Wes smiled and brought me flat against his chest. “He called out his dogs?”

“Dogs being his private investigator, yes. Max is beyond paranoid. You know that.”