One Special Christmas & Home for the Holidays (39 page)

“After I pulled myself together, I got an apartment, applied for a grant, went to school full-time and worked a forty-hour week. Eighteen-hour days were the norm. Money was tight, and I lived on peanut-butter sandwiches and macaroni-and-cheese for years. But I made it. I finished school and I got a job with a landscaper.
I had Joe's insurance money, which I'd saved, and that gave me the seed money to open my own place after I'd accumulated a little experience. That was six years ago, and I've poured every cent back into the business since then. Now, thanks to the Arts Center job, I think we've finally turned the corner.” She paused and expelled a long breath, then turned to face Nick. “So there you have my life story,” she said, trying for a light tone and failing miserably, fighting to hold in the sobs that begged for release.

Nick moved for the first time since she'd started speaking. He stood and walked swiftly over to her, reaching down to draw her to her feet. Then he wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her soft hair, holding her as tightly as he dared. Her whole body was trembling, and she was breathing erratically. Without releasing her, he reversed their positions and sat down, pulling her into his lap and cradling her in his arms.

“It's okay to cry, Laura,” he said softly, stroking her hair.

She had struggled valiantly for control, but she finally surrendered, giving in to the deep, gut-wrenching sobs she'd held inside for so long. Her ribs ached, but once released, the tide of tears could not be stopped. She cried for so many things—for the lost illusions of youth; for the guilt she still carried over Joe's deterioration and death; for the lonely years with no hand to hold and no one with whom to share her life; and for her empty heart, and the fear that prevented her from giving love another chance.

Nick just held her, because there was nothing else he could do. His heart ached for the woman in his arms,
and he was filled with a deep, seething anger at the injustice of the world.

When at last her sobs subsided, she spoke against his shirt. “How could I have been so wrong about someone I'd known all my life?” she asked in a small, sad voice.

“Not everyone reacts well to adversity and disappointment, Laura. You had no way of knowing what would happen when Joe was put to the test.”

“All these years I've felt guilty,” she admitted. “I keep wondering if there wasn't something I could have done or said that would have made a difference. Maybe he'd still be alive if I'd stayed.”

“And maybe you'd be dead,” Nick said bluntly. Then his tone softened. “What happened wasn't your fault, Laura. You stuck it out a lot longer than most people would have. Probably too long.”

She shifted in his arms and looked up at him. “Nick?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“After everything I've told you, do you still…I mean, I'd understand if you wanted to cut your losses and get as far away from me as you can.”

“Do you want me out of your life?”

“No,” she said softly. “But I'm still scared.”

Nick let his breath out slowly. Fear he could handle. Withdrawal was something else. But they'd just bridged that hurdle. “I know, sweetheart,” he said gently, running a finger down her tearstained cheek. “But we'll work on it together, okay?”

Laura searched his eyes—tender, caring, filled with warmth and concern—and nodded, her throat constrict
ing. “Okay,” she whispered. “But I still need to move slowly.”

“Slow is fine,” he said. “Just as long as we're moving.”

 

Gradually, Laura began to forget what her life had been like before Nick. He became such an integral part of her existence that just as she once could not imagine life
with
him, now she could not imagine it
without
him. He became her wake-up call, making her smile as she sleepily reached for the phone each morning. His was her last call of the day, the deep timbre of his voice lingering in her mind long after the connection had been severed. And in between, he was there—pulling her away for impromptu picnics, dropping by at night to take her to Ted Drewes, clipping funny articles he thought she'd enjoy. She grew to love his dependability, his gentleness, his enthusiasm, his ability to make her laugh, and slowly the lines of tension in her face eased and the shadows under her eyes disappeared. She gained a little weight, and the angular contours of her face softened and took on a new beauty. As her bruises healed, so, too, did her heart.

Nick watched the transformation with gratitude and pleasure. As her skittishness eased, he began to weave small, undemanding physical intimacies into their relationship. A welcoming kiss whenever they met; an arm casually draped around her shoulders at the movie theater; his hand holding hers when they walked. If she grew accustomed to the small intimacies, he reasoned, the bigger ones would come naturally in their own time. And he could wait. He'd promised to
let her set the pace, and he intended to honor that vow. But he planned to set the direction.

Though it was slow going, Nick was not unhappy with the progress of their relationship. Laura was more relaxed than he'd ever seen her, laughing more readily, touching more naturally and easily. Her touches—initially tentative, as if she was afraid that they would be rejected—gradually grew bolder under his welcoming encouragement. She was learning to love all over again, cautiously, but with a restrained eagerness that delighted him and did more for his libido than any of the amorous ploys of the more sophisticated women of his acquaintance. As her confidence grew and she became more secure in their relationship, gradually she began to initiate physical contact on her own.

Nick had known from the beginning that physical closeness frightened her. She hadn't spoken about her intimate relationship with Joe, and Nick hadn't asked, but he imagined that making love had probably become a nightmare for Laura as the relationship deteriorated and the love had disappeared. And, given her background and her strong faith and Christian values, he also knew that she didn't take physical intimacy lightly. She was the kind of woman who equated making love with commitment, and she'd been avoiding that like the plague for years. He couldn't expect her to change overnight.

But slowly he guided her toward change, finding ways to touch her that were not threatening but that brought a flash of desire to her eyes. In time she grew to not only allow these touches, but to welcome them. He'd learned to keep his desires on a tight leash, though, and at her slightest hesitation he pulled back. He had come
to realize that Laura's values were deeply entrenched and that she simply didn't believe in intimacy outside of marriage. He admired her for her beliefs and intended to respect them. But keeping his desires under control was hard, and getting harder every day.

 

Laura locked the office and glanced at her watch. She was due to meet Nick at one-thirty, and it was already one-twenty. Fortunately, the client's house was only a short distance from her office, she noted, consulting the address Nick had provided.

Laura rolled down the window as she drove, breathing deeply of the crisp October air. She loved fall, especially here in Webster, when the old, established maples put on their most colorful frocks. Her route took her through the heart of the small community, and she glanced admiringly at the wonderful turn-of-the-century houses.

When Laura reached her destination, she sat for a long moment in the car without moving, letting her eyes roam lovingly over the old frame Victorian. It was set far back from the street, on about an acre of ground, and was everything a Victorian should be. Painted a pale peach, it was embellished with white gingerbread accents, making it appear to be trimmed with lace. A wraparound porch hugged the house invitingly, and tall, stately maples stood on the front lawn. She saw Nick waiting for her on the front porch and waved as she climbed out of the car.

He watched her approach, his body stirring as it always did in her presence. She was dressed as she had been the day they'd met—jeans, work boots, a worn blue work shirt and sunglasses—and her hair
was pulled back into a ponytail. But her greeting was certainly different. She ran lightly up the steps and reached on tiptoe, raising her face expectantly. Nick smiled and leaned down, grasping her shoulders and pulling her toward him hungrily for a lingering kiss.

“Mmm,” she said dreamily, closing her eyes.

He chuckled, and the deep, seductive sound of it made her feel warm despite the slight chill in the air. “Well, what do you think?” he asked, gesturing toward the house.

“It's wonderful!” she said.

“I thought you'd like it.”

“I take it the new owner wants to make some changes?” she said, nodding toward the For Sale sign on the lawn.

“A few. I've already been over the inside, so we can skip that and just go around back. Unless, of course, you'd like to take a look?” He grinned and dangled the key enticingly in front of her.

“Are you kidding!” she exclaimed, her eyes shining. “I've been dying to get inside one of these houses ever since I moved to St. Louis.”

Nick fitted the key in the lock and then stepped aside. “After you.”

Laura stepped over the threshold—and into the house of her dreams. It was everything she had always imagined—tall ceilings, gleaming hardwood floors, private nooks and crannies and alcoves, fireplaces, a wonderful L-shaped stairway in the foyer that hugged the wall, a gorgeous art glass window and plenty of light and space. She examined it all rapturously, reverently running her hand over the fine wood moldings and marble mantels. When she'd explored every inch, she
turned to Nick. “I don't know what the new owners have in mind, but I wouldn't change a thing. It's perfect.”

“If all my clients were that satisfied with the status quo, I'd be out of business,” he said with a grin.

“You aren't going to do anything to change the character, are you?” she asked worriedly.

“Nope. Just some minor updating. Ready to take a look at the grounds?”

“I suppose so,” she said reluctantly, casting one more lingering, longing look at the foyer before stepping outside. “Can't you just imagine this house at Christmastime, Nick?” she said softly. “Snow on the ground, golden light shining from the windows, smoke curling above the chimneys, a wreath on the door… It's a perfect old-fashioned Christmas house. So warm and welcoming.” She sighed. “What a wonderful place to call home.”

“You make it sound very appealing,” Nick said, locking the door and taking her arm as they strolled around the back.

“I don't have to try very hard. It's a very romantic house.”

Laura pulled up short when they reached the backyard. It was heavily shrubbed on the edges, affording complete privacy, and several big trees were spaced over the lawn. Little had been done in the way of landscaping, but Laura could visualize the potential.

“Are your clients open to suggestions?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Well, my first thought is a gazebo—white lattice, of course. And a formal rose garden is a must. Somewhere there should be a trellis, overflowing with morning glories, that leads to a private area with a bench and
a birdbath. And there's plenty of room for an English woodland country garden, sort of wild, yet controlled, you know? That's what gives them their charm. But we have to leave lots of open space for a croquet court. This is a perfect yard for that.” She paused, and Nick heard her soft sigh. “It could be so lovely here. I hope the client will let me do this right.”

There was a wistful note in her voice, and Nick squeezed her hand, then tugged her gently toward the back of the house. “Let's sit for a minute, Laura.”

She followed, still scanning the grounds, visualizing the perfect backdrop for this house. It was the kind of home she'd always hoped to have, and even if that was never to be, perhaps she could create her dream for someone else to enjoy.

Nick pulled her down beside him on a small stone bench set under a tree near the house, and stroked the back of her hand with his thumb. “Laura?”

“Hmm?” With an effort she pulled her eyes away from the yard and forced her attention back to Nick.

“Laura, I…” He stopped, as if he didn't know what to say next, and drew in a deep breath. He seemed at a loss for words, which was completely unlike him, and Laura stared at him curiously. “About the client for this house…”

“Yes?” she prompted, when his voice trailed off.

“Well…it's me.”

Her eyes widened in shock. “What?”

“I've put an option on this house.”

“You? But, Nick—it's a wonderful house, don't get me wrong—it's just so big for just one person.”

“I know. I was hoping that you might share it with me.”

L
aura stared at him, her eyes wide with shock. “Nick…are you…are you asking me to marry you?” she stammered.

“I guess I'm not doing a very good job at it, am I?” He tried to grin, and then drew a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Laura, the simple truth is I'm not getting any younger. The years have gone by a lot faster than I expected. I want a home, and a family, and a house with a white picket fence and a tree swing—the whole nine yards. And I want it before I'm too old to enjoy it.” He stroked the back of her hand absently with his thumb, his eyes locked on hers. “I've been involved with my share of women over the years,” he said honestly, struggling to find the right words because it was vitally important that she understand exactly how he felt. “But I've never really been ‘involved,' not in the true sense of the word. In fact, I went to great lengths to
avoid
involvement, because I didn't want the complications and responsibilities that go with it. And then you came along, and suddenly everything was different. I
wanted
to share your life—and your responsibilities.”
He paused and searched her eyes. “I guess that's what happens when you fall in love,” he said quietly.

Laura tried to swallow past the lump in her throat. For the past few months she'd gone blithely along, relishing her developing relationship with Nick, refusing to think about the inevitable day of reckoning. Now it had come, and she wasn't ready. All the old fears, which had gradually subsided under Nick's gentle nurturing, resurfaced with alarming intensity. He was talking love and commitment and vows, and it scared her to death. There was no question that she loved Nick. But she'd loved Joe, too, and that had been a mistake, one that was still exacting a price.

Nick's eyes were locked on hers, trying to gauge her reaction to his proposal, watching the play of emotions cross her face. He'd known it was a risk to ask her to marry him, but it had been a calculated one. He knew Laura well enough to know that she was completely without guile or pretense. The affection she so willingly returned could be taken at face value as a true measure of her feelings. He'd hoped those feelings would be strong enough to overcome her fears, but now, searching her troubled eyes, he wasn't so sure.

“Nick, I—I don't know what to say.”

“'Yes' would be nice.” When she didn't respond, he took a deep breath. “Things have gone well between us, haven't they?” he asked gently.

“Yes. But why can't we just leave them as they are?” she pleaded.

“For how long?” His voice was sober, direct.

“I—I don't know,” she replied helplessly. “It's such a big step. And I made a mistake once before.”

“That was a long time ago, Laura. You were only
eighteen years old—just a kid. And you had no way of knowing what would happen to Joe.”

“But…but I'm so afraid it could happen again,” she whispered.

Nick didn't say a word. He tried to understand, tried to remind himself that Laura's traumatic past was clouding her judgment, but he was still deeply hurt by her lack of trust. He'd done everything he could to prove that he was different than Joe, that he was trustworthy and dependable and even-tempered, that he cared about her and loved her unconditionally. And he had failed. Instead of the joy he had hoped to see in her eyes, there was only doubt and uncertainty. He glanced away, feeling as if his heart was being held in a vise, the life slowly being squeezed out of it. He gazed at the house he'd allowed himself to dream of sharing with the woman beside him, and felt something inside him begin to die. Finally he looked back at her.

“I don't know what else to do, Laura,” he said wearily. “I'd hoped the fear had dimmed by now. But I'm beginning to think it never will.”

Her eyes filled with tears, and she blinked them back. She wanted to tell him she loved him, but the words wouldn't come. Just saying them seemed too much of a risk. But she didn't want to lose him. Without Nick, her life would be empty, emptier even than before. She touched his arm and looked up at him desperately. “Nick…maybe we could just… Lots of people live together nowadays,” she said.

He gazed at her in surprise, completely taken aback. Yes, lots of people did live together. But Laura wasn't cut out to be one of them. It went against everything she'd been brought up to believe about love and commitment,
flew in the face of her deeply held Christian principles. Her willingness to even consider compromising her values spoke more eloquently than words of the depths of her feelings for him. But it would impose a very heavy burden of guilt on her and, in the end, she would come to not only regret such a choice, but resent him for forcing her to make it. It just wouldn't work.

Nevertheless, Nick was tempted. He was losing her—she was slipping away even as he watched—and now she'd thrown out a lifeline. Maybe this was better than nothing, he thought, trying to convince himself. But how long would the arrangement last, even if she did go through with it, which he doubted? Would she ever feel secure enough to marry him? And if not, then what? What if she walked away, somewhere down the road?

As hard as it would be to let her go now, it would be even harder once they'd lived together intimately.

Slowly he shook his head. “I'm sorry, Laura,” he said, his voice filled with regret. “I love you. I want to build a life with you—for always. It's got to be all or nothing.”

Laura began to feel physically ill. Her world was crumbling around her, and she felt powerless to stop it. The man she loved was about to walk away, taking all of the sunlight and warmth and tenderness out of her life. The tears that had welled up in her eyes slowly overflowed and trickled down her cheeks.

“Nick, I can't marry you,” she said brokenly. “I'm not ready for that step and…and I don't know if I ever will be.”

He took her hands, his gut twisting painfully at the shattered look in her eyes. She seemed so vulnerable
and defenseless that he almost relented, just to ease her pain. Almost. But in the end, he shook his head.

“Laura, I love you,” he repeated, his voice hoarse with emotion. “Part of me always will. I wish we could have made this work.” Gently he released her hands and slowly stood.

Laura's heart was pounding in her chest, her eyes desperate. “Nick, I…” She tried again to say “I love you,” but the words stuck in her throat. “I'll miss you,” she said instead.

“I'll miss you, too.” He bent down and placed his lips gently and lingeringly on hers, in a kiss as light as the wayward leaves that drifted down around them.

“Will I see you again?” she whispered.

“In the spring, I guess, when the landscaping starts for the Arts Center.” He desperately hoped that by then the pain of this parting would have dulled. “Goodbye, Laura. And good luck. I hope someday you find someone who can bring you the happiness you deserve.”

As the sun darted behind a cloud, she watched his back, ramrod straight and broad shouldered, disappear around the corner of the house. The air grew chilly, and so did her heart.

 

With Nick gone, there was an empty place in Laura's life that couldn't be filled. She tried working even longer hours, but that once reliable distraction barely eased the pain. She went back to doing more outdoor labor, but the physical tiredness couldn't mask her emotional fatigue and despair, nor did it help her sleep any better. Night after night she lay awake, thinking about what might have been, wondering if Nick missed her as much as she missed him, aching for the closeness she
had grown to cherish. She had never felt more alone in her life.

Even her best friend seemed to desert her. Sam had always been the one she'd turned to for support during the difficult years after Joe died and through all the tough times when she'd been trying to establish her business. But Sam offered little sympathy. Laura knew her friend thought she was a fool for letting Nick walk away. She'd pretty much said so to her face, in her blunt, outspoken way.

Her family was too far away to be able to provide much consolation, even if she'd told them about her relationship with Nick, which she hadn't. All her mother knew was that they had been seeing each other, never that it had grown serious. As much as she loved her family, it had never been her custom to share the intimate details of her life.

Even in her darkest days she'd always found solace in talking over her problems with the Lord, but even He seemed distant. She just couldn't find the words to pray, beyond a desperate plea for help and guidance. But God worked in His own time, and no direction had yet been provided.

So Laura was left alone with her pain. She tried to tell herself that she'd done the right thing, that entering into a relationship when she wasn't ready would be wrong for everyone involved. At the same time, she couldn't blame Nick for walking out. She'd made it clear that marriage wasn't an option at the moment, maybe never would be. He wanted to share his life with someone on a permanent basis, to raise a family, to create a home, and she couldn't offer him that. Because Joe had left her with a legacy of fear that was debilitating
and isolating, had shaken her confidence in her own judgment so badly that even now, ten years later, she was afraid to trust her heart. Nick had tried his best to convince her to risk loving again, and he'd failed. And if Nick—with his integrity and gentleness and love—couldn't succeed, she doubted whether anyone could.

Laura carried that depressing thought with her into December, through two long, lonely months without the sound of his voice each morning and night, without his impromptu visits, without the laughter he'd brought into her life. Her solitary existence, once carefully nurtured, now seemed oppressive.

Laura didn't even bother to put up a tree, a custom she'd never abandoned, even at the worst of times. But her heart wasn't in it this year. The Christmas decorations looked garish, the carols sounded flat and the weather was dismal. Her only concession to the holidays was the small crèche she always displayed on the mantel. As she placed the figure of baby Jesus in the manger she reminded herself that the Lord had never promised an easy road in this world. She accepted that. She always had. But did it
always
have to be so hard? she cried in silent despair. Weren't there ever happy endings?

And then, with a jolt, she realized that the key to a potentially happy ending
had
been offered to her. She had refused—because she was afraid. And the simple fact was that despite the emptiness of the past two months, she still carried the same oppressive burden of fear.

Her loneliness only intensified as the holidays grew closer. Laura's mother had decided to visit her brother's family in California, and though Laura had been
invited to spend Christmas with John and Dana and the kids, trying to look cheery for several days in front of her family seemed too much of an effort. Sam had gone to Chicago. Laura told everyone she was too busy to take time off anyway, but in reality business was slow. People typically didn't think about landscaping at Christmastime. They were too busy planning holiday gatherings and buying gifts for family and friends.

On Christmas Eve Laura closed the office at three o'clock, realizing as she slowly walked to her car that she had nowhere to go until the evening service at seven. Her cozy apartment, once a welcoming haven, now seemed empty and hollow. She tried strolling around a mall, but the laughing crowds, so at odds with her depressed mood, only made her feel worse.

In the end, even though the service wasn't scheduled to start for an hour and half, she just went to church. Maybe here, in the Lord's house, she could find some peace and solace.

Laura sat forlornly in the dim silence feeling more alone and lost than she had in a very long while.
Oh, Lord, show me what to do!
she pleaded.
I love Nick. And yet I let him walk away because I'm afraid. I need to move on with my life, find the courage to trust again. Please help me.
She closed her eyes and opened her heart, and slowly, as she poured out her fears and confusion to the Lord in an almost incoherent stream of consciousness, she began to feel a calmness steal over her.

The church was filling with people when she at last opened her eyes, and by the time the candles were lit and the service started, she had attained some measure of peace, though no insights. But she had faith that the
Lord would offer those in His own time. If she was patient, He would show her the way.

As Brad Matthews stepped to the microphone, she forced herself to put her problems aside and focus on the words of her childhood friend. He was a wonderful minister, and he had offered her a sympathetic ear and sound advice during her darkest days. He was also an accomplished speaker, and she always found value in his thoughtfully prepared sermons.

Tonight was no exception. In fact, it almost seemed as if the end of his talk had been prepared especially for her, she thought in growing amazement as she listened to his words.

“And so tomorrow all of us will exchange gifts with the ones we love,” he said in his rich, well-modulated voice. “They'll be brightly wrapped, in colorful paper and shiny bows. But let's not forget that those gifts are only meant to represent the true gift of this season—the gift of love. My friends, that is why we are here tonight. Because God so loved the world that he sent his only Son to save us. That gift of love is what makes this day so special. No one who knows the Lord is ever truly alone or unloved, because His love is never ending and He is always with us.

“God gave us the gift of perfect love when he sent us His Son. And that love is manifested here on earth in many ways, most beautifully in the love we have for each other. Love one another as I have loved you. That was His instruction.

“Well, all of us know that, as humans, we can never achieve the perfection of God's love. But it should stand as a shining example of what love is at its very best. It
is unselfish. It is trusting. It is enduring. It is forgiving. It is limitless. And it is unconditional.