The Trouble with Mistletoe. Jennifer Snow
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forgotten. Not to mention my company is working for the store trying to buy out Legend’s.” She paced back and forth in the kitchen, frowning. How could her mother have invited him to dinner? How could he accept knowing the reason for her visit? And why hadn’t he said anything?
“Business is business, honey. I’m sure you two will figure that stuff out. But can’t you just put it aside for the evening and have a pleasant dinner with an old friend? I’m sure Luke has long gotten over the fact you left him at the altar.” Her mom waved a hand dismissively and busied herself with the pie she was making. “Even if his mother hasn’t,” she mumbled, rolling out the crust.
“I didn’t leave him at the altar.” Victoria stopped pacing, wondering how many times they’d had this conversation. Too many. “I called off the wedding two weeks before and, besides, he certainly didn’t try to stop me.” Memories of those last few weeks before her supposed wedding day were painful to recall. The stress of the preparations—her mother and Luke’s mother forcing her to taste wedding cakes and try on dress after dress—even though her heart wasn’t in it. The entire time, hidden in her bedside table drawer had been an acceptance letter for an entry-level position with Clarke and Johnson Acquisitions.
When she’d applied the summer before she’d never imagined the big New York firm would accept her application—she’d had only a two-year business diploma. But they had offered her a job and she’d had a month to decide. Keeping the offer to herself and struggling with her conflicting desires had created tension between her and Luke and had made her question her commitment to him. Their ideas about a life together had seemed worlds apart.
She’d chosen the unpaid internship with a dream of a future so different from the one he’d been planning, and left him behind. And he hadn’t tried to stop her.
Her mother waved a hand. “You know what I mean. Anyway, it’s in the past. At least I’ve learned to keep it there…unlike some people.”
Victoria shook her head. Her mother was impossible, and Luke’s mother would be furious if she found out. The two women, once best friends, hadn’t spoken since the day Victoria left town. According to her mother, she’d let the feud between them die, but Luke’s mother still held a grudge. The two avoided each other as much as possible in the small community.
The doorbell rang.
How was she supposed to sit at the same table with him, after everything they’d been through? She was here to do battle with him over a store. And this was supposed to be a pleasant evening? She peered through the glass opening of the kitchen door.
Luke shifted from one foot to the other on the front porch. Wearing clean jeans and his leather jacket, his short hair gelled into a spiky, controlled mess, he’d obviously gone home to shower and change.
She made no move to let him in. Why couldn’t he have gotten fat? Or bald? Or both?
“Victoria, go take off your suit jacket and brush your hair, while I get the door.” Her mom removed her apron and straightened her sweater.
Victoria held out an arm to block her mother. “I have a better idea. You go get pretty for Luke, and I’ll let him in. He may as well get used to seeing me at my worst.”
Victoria forked a lump of potatoes and savored the rich, buttery carb combination. No one used butter quite like her mother. If she wasn’t careful, she’d pile on a few pounds in her short visit. She pushed a mushroom around her plate, only half listening to the conversations around her. Her father, Uncle Frank and Luke discussed football statistics across the table and her mother and Aunt Linda complained about the new format of the Brookhollow View, the local newspaper.
“I can never find the movie listings or my horoscope. They keep shifting things from one section to another,” Linda said, shaking her head as she wiped her mouth with her napkin.
“Uh-huh.” Sheila nodded in agreement. “And last week the flyer inserts were missing.” She turned to Luke. “How’s the casserole?” she asked as she poured him another glass of wine.
“Thank you. It’s delicious…better than I remember.” He smiled and shot Victoria a glance.
She lowered her eyes to her plate. Just get through this meal. Her mother’s attempt to create a blast from the past was working. From their favorite dinner dishes to the old picture albums of the two of them in junior high and high school she’d produced before dinner, the memories were overpowering as they came rushing back.
The last thing Victoria wanted was to remember. Remember the long summer nights in Brookhollow when they would drive for miles outside of town, cut the engine and lie on the hood of Luke’s truck, gazing up at the stars. Or the fall days when they’d walk hand in hand through the leaves in the park and kiss in the shelter of the big oak tree that held their carved initials inside a heart. She’d forced those special moments from her mind years ago, replacing them with new friends, exciting work, brunches and dinners in trendy restaurants.
“So, Victoria, your mom says you still play soccer in the city,” her aunt said with a polite smile.
She nodded. “Sort of. I play on the corporate team, just once or twice a year. Usually some sort of charity game against one of our clients.”
“Well, with you on the team I’m sure they win every time,” her uncle said.
She hesitated, not wanting to disappoint him. Of everyone in her family, her mother’s brother, a retired lawyer, was by far the most understanding about her life choices. He’d told her time and again how proud and impressed he was by the success she’d had in the city. “Um…well, we’re actually not allowed to win,” she confessed with a wry grin.
“Huh?”
“Apparently, it isn’t good for business.”
Uncle Frank cocked his head. “Well, that must be tough for you with your competitive spirit.”
She laughed and admitted, “Yes, it is.”
“What about your volunteer work—do you still keep that up?” her aunt asked. She didn’t pause for an answer. “You know they still have that Adopt-A-Grandparent program you started years ago at the seniors’ complex.”
Victoria glanced at her mother. “Yes, Mom mentioned that.” The Adopt-A-Grandparent program seemed to be the last thing she’d done that her mom was truly proud of. Victoria had had the idea for a seniors’ visitation program when she’d been to see her own grandparents as a teenager. She’d always stay much longer than planned, playing cards or watching movies with some of the other residents without family nearby. The idea of asking other kids from the school to visit along with her had started small, with just a few of her close friends baking cookies to deliver or helping plant flowers in the complex garden, but then it quickly grew into a larger program organized by the school principal.
“You were always up to something…could never sit still for long.” Linda chuckled.
“From what I remember, you were quite the handful sometimes, too,” Frank teased her.
It was to be expected that her uncle would bring up her long-ago antics. Despite her visits to Brookhollow over the years, she hadn’t spent much time with her extended family. Whenever she came to town for weddings or funerals, she stayed a day or two at most—the only time her busy work schedule would allow. A pang of regret hit her then. She should have tried harder to find the time.
She blushed as her eyes met Luke’s. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I do,” her father piped up. “Should I remind you of the time you snuck into the science lab at the school and rescued all those rabbits you thought they were planning to use for experiments?”
Linda, a tenth-grade math teacher at the school, chuckled. “I remember that. The school had agreed to house them overnight while the local pet shop painted the bunny room. It was the only place in town big enough to keep all of them.”
Victoria