Lakeshore Chronicles [10] Candlelight Christmas (13 page)

“Can we use the pool?” asked André.

“Sure. We get special privileges because we run the place,” said Logan.

“Sweet.”

Logan liked having the kids with him, even though they reminded him of how very much he missed Charlie.

Pulling up in front of the garage of his place, he looked at it as a stranger might, and was struck by how large the residence was. It had been the original resort lodge, later repurposed for the owner’s family and a number of resident workers. In recent years, it had served as a rustic B and B. It had the same old-world vibe as the rest of the resort, with shutters on the windows and brown painted railings all around, a chimney on each end of the building and lights glowing in the windows. When he was by himself in the big old place, he felt like a marble in a pinball machine, rolling around aimlessly. Having the kids with him was going to fill a void, for sure.

“Here we are,” he said, getting out and gathering their bags. “Come on in, and I’ll show you around.”

“Who’ll look after us when you’re at work?” asked Angelica.

“Her name’s Chelsea,” said Logan. “She’s coming up to meet you later this afternoon. You’re going to love her.” Chelsea was a friend left over from his married days. After the divorce, the friends tended to divvy themselves up: Friends of the ex-bride, friends of the ex-groom. Chelsea was one of the few who straddled the line, staying in touch with both Logan and his ex.

“Your house is really big,” said Angelica, stepping through the front door. She glanced up at her mother, who nodded reassuringly.

“Lots of room for everybody,” Maya said.

Logan gave them a quick tour—the kitchen and great room, TV lounge and boardinghouse-sized dining room with a long table lined with seating for sixteen. He had never eaten at that table, not once. It made him feel ridiculous, one guy in all this space. The second and third stories featured bedrooms and bathrooms of all sizes, including a bunk room for eight.

“Here’s where you’ll sleep. When Charlie and his cousins get here, there’ll be seven kids.”

“Cool,” said André, climbing like a monkey to a top bunk.

“That’s a houseful,” said Maya.

“I’m up for it,” Logan told her.

She kept checking the screen of her phone. As they walked through the rest of the house, exploring nooks and crannies, dormer windows with views of the snowy woods, she seemed to grow more and more tense. He then gave them a quick tour of the resort.

In the main lodge, he spied Darcy Fitzgerald from afar, but she seemed busy with her friends or work associates, so he steered clear of them. Maya was clearly unraveling, and he needed to focus on getting the kids settled in. He led the way back to the house.

“Doing all right?” he murmured, holding the door for Maya.

“Freaking out,” she said. “My doctor gave me something for anxiety, but the pill I took this morning is wearing off.”

“Who’s hungry?” he asked, turning to the kids.

“Starving,” André said.

“Let’s go make some sandwiches.”

While the kids debated PB&J versus grilled cheese, Maya watched them with her heart in her eyes. Logan hurt for her. He ached all over, imagining how hard this was going to be. “Eye on the prize,” he said to her in a low voice. “Keep that February release date in mind.”

“It’s the only thing keeping me sane,” she said, and checked her phone again. “My ride back to the station should be here by now.”

Adam Bellamy had volunteered to drive her back down to the station.

“He’ll be here soon,” Logan assured her.

“I almost want to get it over with.”

Logan nodded. “The sooner you get going, the sooner you’ll be back.”

“Yes. Oh my God, how could I have been so stupid?” she asked, moving to the foyer, where the kids were out of earshot. “So, so stupid?”

“Hey, take it easy. You’re only human.”

“I thought I loved him. I kept thinking...I wasn’t thinking. Love makes us do such stupid things. Why is that?”

“No clue. I’ve made my share of mistakes.” He noticed her watching her kids, devouring them with her eyes. “I swear on my life, I’ll take good care of them,” he told her.

“I know, Logan. I can’t thank you enough.”

When her ride pulled up in front of the house, she wobbled a little on her feet, and Logan took her gently by the arm to steady her. “Easy,” he murmured. “It’s going to be all right.”

“Hey, guys,” she called to her kids, “I gotta go. Come give me hugs and kisses.” Her face was stiff with the battle against tears as she sank down on one knee and opened her arms to them.

Logan’s heart felt ripped in two as he watched her tell them goodbye, breathing deeply as though to inhale their essence. The kids clung, but relinquished their hold readily enough, innocent of her true destination.

“Be strong,” he told her. “You’re going to get through this.”

She practically fled to Adam’s truck, and she didn’t look back. The kids stared after her, stricken.

Logan burst into action. “I’ve got a surprise for you two.”

“What’s that?”

“We’re going to decorate Christmas cookies. Ever tried it?”

André looked skeptical. “You mean with icing and stuff?”

“Icing and sprinkles and everything good. You should see the stuff I bought. But these aren’t just any cookies,” Logan warned him.

“Yeah? Then what are they?”

“They’re Walking Dead Christmas cookies.” Logan went into zombie mode, with a stiff, swaying gait as he growled ominously, taking swipes at both kids.

Angelica squealed and they both ran for cover. Logan herded them into the kitchen, cranked up the music on the stereo and hoped for the best.

Chapter Eleven

D
arcy was distracted in the worst way when she met up with her team for the video shoot. Everyone bustled around with excitement, and normally she would share that energy, reveling in the sense that they were about to do something very, very cool. There were few things more exciting than being chosen to test gear and show it off for the client.

But today she had something else on her mind—Logan O’Donnell. She’d made a fool of herself over him at the train station. What a boneheaded move, showing up, unannounced, on a transparent pretext. And then to jump to the conclusion that he’d come to meet her at the station... She shuddered in horror and wondered how she was going to smile for the camera.

It was a total bummer to find out that her crush—her very inappropriate crush, as it turned out—was now dating a woman with kids. A woman who happened to look like Sofía Vergara. How nice for him.

Darcy felt like a grade-A idiot, chasing after him even though he hadn’t called or sent a text or even a freaking one-line email since Florida. Bringing her team to Avalon for the shoot was hopelessly transparent, the equivalent of a junior high girl riding her bike past the cute boy’s house to get his attention.

Come to think of it, she had tried that ploy in seventh grade and it hadn’t worked then, either.

No wonder he hadn’t called after Florida.

One kiss was hardly an obligation.

Even if it was an amazing kiss.

Even if it happened after a moment of shared magic, like when the dolphins appeared.

Even if it was the kind of kiss she couldn’t stop thinking about, long after it was over.

“We’re ready for you, Darcy,” said the shoot coordinator. “Oh my gosh, you look amazing.”

“Two hours of hair and makeup, and I’m a natural beauty,” she said, flourishing her fashionably gloved hand.

“Ha-ha.”

“Where do you want me?”

“Top of the long chairlift. The light’s perfect today. This resort is ideal, by the way. Whose genius idea was it to shoot here instead of Lake Placid?”

“That would be me,” Darcy said.
Me and my dumb ideas
.

“It’s great. I’ll bet we can wrap this up in a day.”

That was a relief, Darcy thought as she rode the lift, sharing the ride up with a guy named Jeff, who said he was local and had been skiing Saddle Mountain since he was a kid.

“I like what the new owner’s doing,” he said, pushing his ski goggles up on his helmet.

I don’t,
thought Darcy. But to be polite, she said, “What’s that?”

“He’s keeping what people like about the resort and building on it, instead of changing everything all at once.”

At the top of the lift, the crew waited with a woman called Brandi, who was Logan’s überefficient assistant. She’d coordinated everything via email. She wore retro stirrup ski pants with a tight sweater, and she was pinup model pretty. She was soon joined by the resort’s director of operations, a striking redhead in a green jumpsuit who was causing the videographer to drool. Apparently Logan liked surrounding himself with beautiful women. No wonder he wasn’t interested in Darcy. Plain old girl-next-door Darcy.

“Ready?” asked the camera guy.

“Ready,” Darcy said.

“Go make our gear look pretty,” said the snowboard company rep.

“I’ll do my best.” Darcy was no supermodel, and she knew it. But when she was on the snow, she felt the same magical rush she felt when surfing. All the beauty of the world flowed through her, and the joy of the ride was a tangible thing, an element that could be seen and photographed. Today there was a bonus—the Christmas season had arrived.

It had always been her favorite time of year, and she was absolutely determined that no one steal the pleasure from her. Even though she’d bowed out of the whole family thing with the Fitzgeralds and the Collinses, the prospect of Christmas buoyed her spirits. Even her realization that Logan was dating someone was actually good news, Darcy decided. Now she didn’t even have to decide whether or not she had a crush on him. There was no decision to be made except to remain happily single. It was further proof that she wasn’t ready for a relationship of any sort, not at this juncture, and she was particularly not interested in a man with a kid.

Even if that man was wildly attractive and kissed like a dream lover.

So there,
she thought, and pushed off the slope into a sunny, powder-dusted glade. It was a day made for floating. The sky was the color of a bluebird’s wing. The hill was bejeweled by last night’s snowfall, sparkling in the sun.

The joy of the ride overtook her. She could feel it in every movement, in the speed and in her stance. As she wove between the bare maple trees and birches, the cold wind on her face and the sun in her eyes made her feel alive, and full of the special energy of a brilliant winter day.

“Awesome,” said Kyle Bohner, the videographer, who was on skis and down the hill from her, draped in camera equipment. “This is going to be rad.”

The sunshine today was a rare gift, its rarity making it all the more special. She was able to forget everything as the day progressed. The crew had found her a backcountry run that was untouched, a powdery headwall of snow creating a brilliant natural sculpture on the cheek of the hill, bordered by craggy Catskills granite.

The client’s signature gear, from the helmet to the snowboard’s colorful underside, would look fantastic in this light, against the dramatic backdrop. They did shot after shot of Darcy floating down the steep terrain, popping up into some trick moves, including her signature Fitz Twist.

By the end of the shoot, the sheer volume of adrenaline pumping through her had chased away the awkward encounter at the train station. The sun was just riding the crest of Saddle Mountain when the shoot coordinator declared it a wrap. They all trooped into the resort lodge for a warm-up before packing up to return to the city. Darcy took off the helmet and was running her fingers through her hair when she spied Logan with his girlfriend and her kids, leaving the lodge. He was holding the door for them as they trooped out.

He looked up and spotted Darcy—how could he miss her, the season’s bold color being apple-green—and offered a wave of the hand.

Whatever, she thought, waving back. She’d had a damn good day and she was not about to let him or anyone else ruin it.

She joined the crew in the bar, a rustic spot with Adirondack furniture and a big central river rock fireplace, good music streaming from hidden speakers. She chastised herself for getting her hopes up about Logan O’Donnell. She should’ve known better.

“Something’s on your mind,” said Bohner. “What are you thinking?”

“That if you never get your hopes up,” she said, taking a sip of hot chocolate, “you’ll never be disappointed.”

“Ouch,” he said. “Not sure I’m down with that.”

“Sometimes you need to protect yourself,” she said. “No, not sometimes. Always.”

“But if you’re always protecting yourself, you miss out on the good things as well as the bad.”

“At least you’re safe,” she said.

“Interesting that you’re willing to risk life and limb on the ski hill but not emotionally.”

“I had no idea you were an armchair psychologist.”

He laughed, the movement shaking his shoulder-length dreadlocks. “Just used to looking at people, I guess.”

While they were settling the tab, she wondered if this little incident would change her plans for Christmas. She had been totally excited about spending the holidays with the O’Donnells. Fun in the snow, a small-town celebration, good food and good friends. The fact that Logan was apparently hooking up with a superattractive woman should not matter.

Oh, she wished it didn’t matter.

Maybe she should change her plans. Maybe she should go overseas and find a country where they’d never heard of Christmas.

Her phone made a glissando sound, signaling an incoming text message.

She checked the screen. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw who the message was from—Logan O’Donnell. She felt very tentative as she touched the screen and read the message:
FYI, she’s not my girlfriend.

Just that. Nothing more. What the hell was he telling her this for? Was it the truth? Did he think it mattered?

She tapped out a response.
FYI, neither am I.