Page 47 of All in for Christmas

I’m sweating bullets waiting for Dean to arrive, severely overheated in my camel-colored cashmere sweater.

I should have gone for a more casual look, like that flouncy dress I wore when I went to Beaumont’s with Mom the first time.

But nothing like that is in my current wardrobe.

I’m also completely devoid of thongs. Which I should not be thinking about when Dean walks in.

Or the way he cut one off me. Snip-snap. “There goes Tuesday.”

If my face burned any hotter it would catch fire.

He spots me and shares a lopsided grin.

My insides flip-flop, going all mushy.

How am I going to put this?

Dean, I have something to tell you.

No.

Do you believe in magic?

Too big a leap into the fantastic too soon.

You know that advent calendar you gave me?

Holds possibilities.

He strides over, removing his coat. “Well, hey there.”

“Hey, you!” My mouth pinches when I try to look relaxed in my not-so-relaxed teacher-looking clothes. Gah. Why aren’t I in jeans? He is, and he looks dynamite in an argyle sweater.

Dean surveys my coffee cup. I went ahead and ordered a double-shot latte, but the caffeine’s not helping my nerves.

The heel of my boot taps the floor and I press down on my knee.

Then the same thing happens on the other side.

He acts like he doesn’t notice. Still. He sneakily peers under the table.

“I’ll just go and”—he points toward the coffee bar—“get mine.”

“Great idea!” Why am I speaking! With! Exclamation! Marks!

Deep breaths.

Okay. I’ll tone it down.

My left leg jiggles. Then the right. I grab my knees hard and squeeze. Ahhh. Better.

Dean returns with his order in no time. He got a self-serve regular coffee so it took him a nanosecond. His brow wrinkles. “Something wrong with your knees?” he asks, taking a seat.

“Er, nope!” I release them. Bounce. Bounce. Bounce. Whyyy?

He sets down his cup. “You’re not nervous?”

“Who, me?” I rub my nose. “No.”

He nods knowingly. “I remember that nose thing, Paige.”

“Oh?” I straighten my spine. “Which nose thing is that?”

He sighs and settles back in his chair. “You really haven’t changed.” He says it good-naturedly, but he doesn’t know how wrong he is. He reads my stricken expression. “I didn’t mean that in a bad way. Most people would love to hear that at our age.”

“Yes, ancient,” I quip. “Twenty-eight and twenty-six.”

A wry twist to his lips. “I am pushing thirty.”

“Then you’d better break out the cane, grandpa.”

He laughs and holds his coffee on the table, centering it in both hands. “It’s really good to spend time with you again. It’s been what? Six years?” Depends on who you ask, and in which reality.

“Er. More or less?” I push my coffee cup aside, deciding I’ve had enough. That’s what I get for sugaring things up, both at home and then here. “Dean?”

“Yes?” How could I have forgotten the way his dark eyes sparkle and that sexy dimple in his cheek?

I was sleeping with the man just yesterday.

Jingle all the way! I blink and shove aside the memory.

This Dean knows nothing about any of that.

Much less Tuesday or Saturday thongs. Or the two children who resulted from that sort of behavior.

He peers at me in his ultra-dreamy way, and I lose my nerve. “It’s just! Really great! To see you!” I’m exclaiming again and growing breathless. The room spins and I clutch the table. Dean passes me my water. I’d forgotten I’d poured myself a cup from the complimentary station.

“Paige?” he asks seriously as I mostly drain the cup. “Are you okay?”

“Yes.” I set down the water cup. Crush it accidentally. Water seeps over its sides, dribbling down my knuckles. “Why would you ask that?” I wipe my fingers with a napkin. “Exactly?”

“You’re just”—he tries not to sound judgmental—“acting a little odd.”

“I’ve just been juggling lots of balls lately.” I stare at him deeply, hoping he’ll get the message that this is super important. And, more critically, not all in my head.

“Juggling?”

“Yes. Here and there.”

“Where?”

“ Here .” I lick my lips. “And there .”

“In Piney Mount or at school?”

“Both places.” I take a slug of coffee. “Honestly.”

“Ahh. Got it. You’ve been working really hard on that new program of yours, Paws and Read.

” That is a bright spot on this horizon.

It was hard to put that dream off in the other reality, with only the hope it was eventually coming.

In this world, I know it is absolutely. When I see our first volunteers and dogs working with students next semester, my heart will burst with joy.

“Yes, but that’s not the only thing.” I lower my voice. “I’ve had experiences.”

“Experiences?” He wrinkles up his face.

Okay, yeah, that sounded a little too Missy Peabody.

“Not experiences !” I sigh. “Adventures!”

Dean drags a hand down his face. “I…see?” he says like he absolutely doesn’t.

“Dean,” I say urgently. “You know that advent calendar you gave me?”

“On Friday, at the gift exchange? Sure.”

“I think it’s working.” There, I’ve said it. I sit back in my chair and cross my arms.

“Working?” He takes a moment to digest this and then asks, “How is it working?”

“Exactly like you said it would.”

He narrows his eyes. “In predicting the future?”

A floral delivery person pushes through the café’s front door. She’s got a cart on wheels and it’s loaded down with festive red plants with pointy petals. She addresses the manager behind the coffee bar. “Where do you want these?”

“ Ahhh! ” I spring back in my chair so hard I nearly knock it over.

“Paige?” Dean’s more startled than I am, which is significantly. “What’s wrong?”

I extend a finger toward the flower lady as she starts unloading poinsettias from the cart and plunking them down on tables. “Poin—poinsettias!”

“And?”

“Dean,” I whisper hurriedly. “I took the poinsettia ornament from the Day Twenty-One pocket in the advent calendar this morning and added it to the tree.”

“The advent calendar?” he asks, trying to grasp this.

“Yes, and now—” I gulp, unable to finish. Flower lady puts a pot down right in front of me. “Merry Christmas,” she says, and I blink.

“Paige,” Dean says calmly. “It’s the holidays. Poinsettias are everywhere.”

“Yes, but why here?”

He grimaces. “They’re decorating the coffee shop?”

“A little late for that, don’t you think?”

“I have no idea. Maybe they got a late-season discount.”

Nooo. I’m making a mess of this. “I think it’s something more,” I confide in hushed tones.

“I think it has to do with what you told me about the calendar predicting the future.” He stares at me askance, but I won’t give up now.

Now that I’ve gotten started, I might as well carry on.

Unless Dean jumps up and runs out of here.

Which he might do. I hope he doesn’t, though.

“Yesterday was the snowman ornament,” I tell him.

“That was Day Twenty, and then I saw this snowman in the park.”

“Well, Paige, it is December—in Piney Mount.”

“That’s not it,” I insist hoarsely. “His nose was put in wrong.”

“The snowman’s nose?”

I nod. “The carrot was shoved in backward . Just like Henry—”

“Who’s Henry?”

“Our child .” I gasp and cover my mouth. I hadn’t meant for that to come out so directly.

“We have a child?” Dean pales. “Paige.” He’s aghast and also slightly filled with wonder. “And you never told me?” He is sooo getting the wrong impression.

“ Nooo .” I hold up my hands. “It’s nothing like that. We don’t have a child here—in this reality.”

“In this reality, right,” he says. “Where is the other one, then? In the future?”

I groan, growing discouraged. “I would say that, but we were still our same ages somehow. But not here, we were there .”

“With a kid named Henry?”

“And Eleanor! Henry’s older sister.”

“Odd coincidence.” He rubs the side of his neck. “Henry and Eleanor were my grandparents’ names on my dad’s side.”

“Oh! Well, old-timey names are coming back in fashion, I hear. For babies.”

His eyebrows arch. “Our babies?”

“We also had a dog named Scout.”

“ Scout, ” he says like that’s vaguely familiar. “Wow, Paige. That’s quite an elaborate dream.”

“That’s what I thought at first, until I realized it wasn’t.”

“How could you tell?”

“I was awake, Dean, and not sleeping.” Not with all the sugar-laden coffee I drank. “I went to bed in my condo on Friday night, the night the comet passed overhead, after putting up my advent calendar.” I pause and then ask, “Did you see it? Your Christmas Comet?”

“Yes, it was spectacular. You?”

“I know it passed over Piney Mount, but I was sleeping.” I recall the flash of bright light in my bedroom.

“I mean, mostly sleeping. I may have caught a glimpse of its aura through my bedroom window, but only vaguely, and then the very next day I woke up in this sweet little bungalow on Chestnut Street. But that didn’t have to do with the comet.

It was more about the Christmas star on the calendar, I believe. ”

Dean pushes back in his chair, looking stunned. “Did you say Chestnut Street? Whoa, that’s weird.”

“Why—why is that weird? I mean, any weirder than anything else I’ve said?”

“Do you remember the address?”

“Yes. One two five.”

“ O-kay .” Dean pulls his cell phone from his jeans pocket and taps something in. He holds its screen toward me. “This the house?”

“That’s it!” My heart pounds at the darling view, although it looked cuter when we owned it.

There’s no holiday wreath on the door, and the front porch is missing those pretty icicle lights.

I squint at the screen and see listing details.

Square footage. Three bedrooms. Two baths.

Lot size. A price. It’s a real estate listing.

My heart gallops. “Why do you have that listing on your phone?”

“Because I’m scheduled to see it,” he says. “Later this afternoon.”

Wait. I try to make some sense of this. Dean’s buying a house, and he’s looking at ours?

The house that was ours in the alternate reality and could be ours again?

I understand I’m jumping the gun. Dean and I would at least have to move in together or marry.

In the other life, we didn’t just share kids; we shared a mortgage.

Dean rakes his hands through his hair. “I didn’t tell you, did I?” he asks like he’s not sure. “Didn’t mention I was looking for a house when we talked at the holiday party?”

“No. You said nothing about that.”

“I’ve been saving for a while,” he explains. “Figured buying a house might be a wise investment, but I didn’t want to buy in Boulder. Something made me wait until I came home.”

Home, yes. We made our cottage so cozy, with its wood-burning fireplace and cheery rooms. “It’s a great house,” I say emphatically, because I fell in love with the place.

“It’s even got a dog door in the kitchen for Scout.

” I purse my lips, realizing that might not be the case yet.

“At least, that’s a possibility. For a pet. Potentially. Meaning, a potential pet.”

You’re babbling now, Paige. Stop.

Dean chuckles at the absurdity of the situation. “What kind of dog is Scout?”

“A very big and fluffy white one. I think he was a rescue.”

“I like that about Scout.”

“He also gave himself a job,” I can’t help sharing. “He brings in our morning paper every day. Nothing stops him. Not even snowy weather.”

Dean smiles proudly as if taking credit for this himself. “Good boy!”

My heart blooms with hope. “So. Wait. You believe me?”

Dean sinks back in his chair. “I believe you experienced something, but Paige? Is that the only reason you wanted to meet with me today? Because I have the feeling it was also about something else.”

His expression’s compassionate, kind, and I gather my courage and say, “It is. Dean, my wanting to talk with you today is not just about that magical advent calendar, or whatever other sort of life I believe I saw.” My nose twitches and I rub it.

“It’s about what happened six years ago when you left for Puerto Rico.

We never really talked afterward. In some ways, never resolved things. ”

He hangs his head and stares at the floor. “You don’t know how many times I’ve thought about that over the years.”

“Have you?” I thought I was over Dean, but something deep in my heart must have known that wasn’t true.

He slowly looks up. “Yeah. That was a real turning point for the two of us.”

“More like a breaking point,” I admit sadly. “And I know I’m the one who broke things off. I’m sorry about that now. I wish I’d given you a chance. Given us one.”

His eyes gleam with regret. “Have you ever wondered what might have happened…? I mean, if things had been different? If maybe I’d turned around and come back?”

“Did you consider it?”

“Honestly? Yes.” Shame washes over his face, but he has nothing to be ashamed of. I’m the one who canceled us. “I was at the airport and there was this cute family boarding the plane ahead of me.”

“A mom and a dad and their little girl?”

Dean’s jaw unhinges. “How could you know that?”

“Because you told me.” Heat builds in my eyes, but I need him to know the truth. “Dean. In the other reality, you did come back.”

He sets his elbows on the table and rubs his forehead. “Are you saying you saw what might have been between us, if we’d stayed together all this time?”

“That’s as close as I can come to explaining it.”

“And?” He’s genuinely interested and not faking it. I can tell this about Dean. This only encourages me to share more.

“It was wonderful,” I say dreamily. “Our life was amazing. We were amazing together, as a mom, a dad, a family. I mean, it wasn’t perfect , because nothing truly is, but close.”

His expression grows foggy, like he’s remembering, but he can’t possibly be. “Will you tell me about it?”

Butterflies flit around in my chest because I’m so happy that he wants to know more, but I’m also frightened that sharing it all will be too much. “Only if you promise not to freak out.”

He nods and drinks some coffee. “I want you to start from the beginning.”

“Er. Okay.” I weigh how much to tell him, deciding to deliver the recap in broad strokes while skipping the sexy details.

Otherwise, he’ll think I’ve been fantasizing about him.

So I’m one hundred percent not mentioning naughty Santa and sexy Mrs. Claus—or thongs.

A woman’s got to have some mystery, and if Dean and I somehow wind up together, he’ll have to find those things out for himself.

“Wait.” He’s staring at something on my sweater. Great. Have I spilled my coffee? I glance down, but no. It’s not a coffee stain he’s glued to. He’s mesmerized by my ruby heart necklace. “Paige.” He sounds like he’s far, far away. “Where did you get that necklace?”