Holly, Jolly, and Oh So Naughty (Festive Flames)
Holly, Jolly, and Oh So Naughty: Chapter 16

“Do you have any idea what you have done?” Even with my phone on the table, my mother’s sharp tones fill the air as if she’s right next to me.

I answered her on the third ring since she had started calling me nonstop, and short of blocking her number, I began to fear that something serious had happened.

In her eyes, it has.

“A disgrace!” Mother yells. “A complete and utter disgrace! Her mother is in tears and refuses to show her face at the country club, and no one has heard from her father. He’s likely run away to the mountains to hide his shame.”

“Okay,” I say, lifting the phone back to my ear. “That’s a little dramatic.”

“Dramatic?”

She screeches so loud I jerk the phone away with a wince. “Yes,” I reply cautiously. “Surely, they should only care about her being happy.”

“It’s not about Bernice being happy,” Mom barks at me. “She’s dating a barista, James. A barista! She’s dating the help!”

“That’s your problem right there, Mom. Bernice has found someone who makes her happy and who makes her smile in ways I never could. Your focus should be on that and not his occupation, because that doesn’t matter. It shouldn’t ever matter.”

“It does matter, James. How many times do I have to tell you that these things matter? That you can’t just decide to step away from centuries of tradition and cast your family out like this?”

“Well, it sounds like her family is the one doing the casting.” My head dips, and I seek to relieve the pressure behind my eyes while squeezing the bridge of my nose.

“When I heard you two finally spoke, I thought things were finally going back to normal.” Mom’s voice quavers, and my heart pulls south into my gut.

Out of all the choices I’ve made lately—good or bad—I haven’t intended to hurt anyone. Running away because I couldn’t face the loss of my father was definitely a wrong step in many people’s eyes, but I knew my mother would be alright with the people around her. She has a close circle of friends and enjoys being the queen bee.

It seems Bernice’s current decision has cast a wrench into that whole plan.

“We did speak,” I assure her, softening my tone. “It was a good conversation, actually, and I think we both left it knowing where we stood. It might be hard for you to hear, but Bernice and I never loved each other. When we were together, I knew where her real interests lay, and in a way, I think she knew the same about me.”

“That doesn’t matter,” Mom mutters, sniffling across the line. “You’re supposed to put all of that aside and do what is right for your family. For both your families.”

“Is that really what is right? Or just what is done and people are too scared to do otherwise?”

“James. I’m too tired to have this discussion again.”

“You called me,” I point out, leaning back in my chair until it creaks. “Me. Bernice. It’s the same thing, really. We want to be happy, and if she is happy with the barista from the coffee shop on the corner, then she has my blessing. I’m happy she took that step for herself.”

“So, you won’t call her?” Mom asks.

“And say what? Hey, I’ve moved on but you’re not allowed to so I hope you’ll remain hung up on me forever? No, I’m not doing that.”

“What do you mean, you’ve moved on?” Mom asks.

My heart stops briefly in my chest.

Did I say that?

Shit. I did.

Thoughts of Lily flood my mind, pulsing in time to the few leftover bruises I have aching through me from last weekend. That trip had been a blast for a number of reasons—mainly learning that Mark had absolutely nothing to do with Emma. That and getting to spend the day with Lily and Emma. It was magical.

“James?” Mom prompts sharply with all sadness gone from her voice. “What do you mean, you’ve moved on?”

“Well… I just meant that I’m in a new town, living a new life that I’m really enjoying with new people. So of course I’ve moved on.” It’s hard to dodge a mother who is so skilled at getting answers out of me. “So in that regard, it’s only fair that Bernice does the same.”

“Is that what you told her? To move on and bring so much shame down on her family that her mother’s hair is graying faster than a bear in winter?”

I bite back a snort of amusement. “I told her to be happy. If this is what makes her happy, then as I said, I support her. Nothing you can say will change that. And actually, things would go a lot better if you and her parents just got rid of this stupid, snobbish way of looking down on people because the only thing that matters is whether that man is kind to her. Literally nothing else.”

“You’re a tornado, James. You just create carnage and then run away like nothing happened.”

“Can you tell me, honestly, that you were in love with Dad when Grandpa set you two up?”

Mom is silent for a few seconds. “Yes,” she replies stiffly. “I was.”

“You’re a terrible liar.”

“I loved your father dearly!”

“I’m not saying you didn’t. I’m just saying back then, when you were introduced and told you were to be together, was there no part of you that ached to be free? To go and do your own thing, find someone you loved instead?”

Again, she is silent. As she contemplates that, there’s a knock at the door to my office. I mute my call as Margret sticks her head around the door.

“James, your last couple of patients have canceled because of the storm. I’m waiving the cancelation fee and we’re going to close up early, so when you’re done here, you might want to head. Best try and get ahead of this thing.”

“Thanks, Margret. I’ll pop my head in before I leave.”

“Thanks.”

With that, she’s gone, and I glance out the window. There’s been heavy snowfall for three days straight now, which I’ve found to be utterly amazing. In the city, the snow would fall and then melt far too quickly to be enjoyed. But out here? The snow falls and it stays.

Sure, there’s the downside of ice and compacted snow becoming so slippery that it can be dangerous, but each morning, I’ve seen several kids and people out helping shovel the sidewalks and pour salt everywhere to keep the paths safe.

There’s a real sense of community here, and this much snow this close to Christmas is utterly magical.

And now there’s a storm coming. It was supposed to roll in last night, but according to the weather this morning, the winds got caught in the nearby mountains and the storm was swinging down to the south.

Seems like it’s coming back with a vengeance.

“Mom?” I return the phone to my ear.

“—and another thing. Even if I wasn’t feeling that way, we have a duty to uphold traditions. I don’t know where I went wrong with you, James, I really don’t. You used to be such a good, decent boy.”

“I know,” I sigh. “But then my dad died and I realized I didn’t want to die miserable.”

Just mentioning him sends a sharp jolt through my chest, and I press my lips together. Not a day goes by where I don’t miss him, but I’m trying to be happy for him.

“I know,” Mom says, her voice softer. “I miss him.”

“Me too.” I clear my throat, refusing to let the emotion overtake me. “Look, I have to go. There’s a storm rolling in, and this town is in a valley, so I don’t want to get stuck at work.”

“Will you be safe?” Mom asks.

“Yes, Mom, I promise.”

“Will you please call Bernice?” She just can’t let it go.

“Sure,” I sigh, exasperated and eager to just get her off the phone. “I’ll call her to say congratulations.”

“James!”

“Goodbye, Mom.” Hanging up, I toss my phone onto the desk and slump forward, rubbing my face. Maybe answering her call was a bad idea, but it’s nice to know my ex-fiancée has moved on. I want her to be happy. She deserves it.

I send Bernice a quick text just to let her know my mother was asking about her, then I gather up my things and turn off my computer. As I bundle into my coat and leave my office, I see Taylor has already gone home and the only car left in the parking lot is Margret’s.

“Margret?” I knock on her door and peek into the office. “You’re not staying, are you?”

“God, no,” Margret wheezes. “My husband is bringing the truck to pick me up, then I’m heading home. Don’t you worry.”

“Okay. What’s the, uh… do you have a protocol for this kind of weather? How long do we stay closed for?”

“Technically, until there’s less than six inches of snow on the ground,” Margret replies with a chuckle. “But my rule of thumb is that if I can drive to work in my beat-up old car, then I can work. But I’ll give you a call. Go, James. Go home before you get stuck here.”

I say my goodbye and hurry outside where I’m immediately almost knocked off my feet by a gust of bitterly cold wind. Pulling the collar of my coat up to my ears, I duck my head down into the warmth and brace against the wind and snow whipping through the air.

Ice scalds my cheeks as I walk through the deserted town, with most people already safe inside their homes. The storm has descended so fast that by the time I reach the town square, I can barely see two feet in front of me. It’s still a little way until I reach the motel, but as my feet slide on the snow and I lurch against a lamppost to stop myself from falling, I spot a golden light.

Sweet Noel is still lit up like a Christmas tree, and I see a distant shadow moving past the window.

Is Lily still there?

I can’t leave her, not without making sure she’s okay. Bracing against the wind, I ignore my numb ears and frozen fingertips that remain cold no matter how deep I shove them into my pockets and trudge toward the bakery.

Each step becomes a battle as the wind picks up, and my cheeks flash hot with pain from the snow cutting across my freezing face. Closer and closer I get to the alluring warmth of the bakery. My feet sink into deep snow, and the snow-shoveling efforts of this morning’s teens are well and truly erased.

Just as I reach the glittering door of the bakery, it suddenly swings open. A hand grabs my jacket and jerks me inside.

“James? Get inside, you fool!”