He did ask for her last name, but that wasn’t much to go on, especially since she was in no phone book she knew of. He’d left it on friendly terms, nothing more. She knew it—she should have known not to let herself hope.
Then again, he did leave it open, asking what she wanted for Christmas. Even if he stayed, she wasn’t sure what she would have said. Telling a total stranger she wanted someone to love her was completely off-putting, no matter how someone looked at it.
She considered driving out to her mom’s tonight, but it took a few moments to remember her parents weren’t in town. So she decided to go home instead.
Her house was too quiet. Saylor avoided Parker’s room and headed straight to her own. Pent up frustration built, and she ripped off her new dress, kicked out of her leggings and stood in the shower longer than usual, letting the hot water slowly fade to lukewarm.
After she dressed in her favorite flannel pajamas, she stared at their pathetic little tree with its single present underneath.
“I know how you feel, tree,” she told it, thinking of how just hours before several more presents had crowded beneath its branches. It looked so lonesome now.
With a sigh, she bent and lifted her present, settling herself on the couch. She hugged the soft package, sinking back and turning on White Christmas.
While Bing Crosby sang, she opened the red wrapping, not bothering to wait until the morning. Having bought it for herself, it wasn’t like it would be a big surprise.
“It’s cold anyway,” she told herself, removing the leopard-striped Snuggie within. She stroked the soft fabric, a small amount of happiness dripping in at the sight. Others might think it was silly, but she’d always wanted one of these. A blanket she could wear? Yes, please.
She laced her arms through the sleeves and wrapped it around her. Gradually, her body heat warmed the fabric, and she sank back, ready to lose herself in the old movie, when her phone chimed.
It was late for him to be calling, but she wasn’t about to complain. Saylor leapt from the couch and rushed to answer. Parker’s little face filled the entire screen.
“Hey, Parks,” she said, not having to force the excitement.
“Mom! You won’t believe this place. This cabin is huge. Our whole house could fit in here. They have a big flat screen, and an Xbox, and you won’t believe their tree. Here, look!” He turned the phone to display a beautiful tree, taller than the one at Cole’s North Pole in the mall. The thing cascaded upward, decorated with large baubles in all kinds of colors and topped with the sparkly mesh Saylor had seen in stores but never wanted to take the time to figure out how to use.
“That’s amazing,” she said, trying to ignore the pinching sensation in her chest.
“And look.” Jagged images told her he was in motion, the ceiling blurring in the background. He whipped his phone around to show her a stunning fireplace, brick along its sides and complete with a tile mosaic above, along with a gluttonous amount of silver, glittering décor on the mantel that would do Pottery Barn proud. “A chimney!”
Saylor couldn’t help her smile. “Perfect. See, Santa will know right where to find you.”
“It’s a good thing you told him not to forget,” said Parker.
David’s voice filtered through in the background. Parker’s attention was stolen for a moment, until he flipped the phone toward his dad, giving Saylor a good shot of the surrounding company. An older man and woman stood with wine glasses in hand around a granite counter-top, and then there was David, one arm around Amanda’s tiny waist.
Saylor pressed her eyes closed. Why did she ever think a phone was a good idea? This is about Parker, she told herself.
“Yeah-huh, Mom met Santa tonight and told him right where to find us,” Parker said, replying to one of them.
Laughter ricocheted in the background, slapping her pride. Somehow, her Snuggie lost its heat. Tears threatened, but she stared upward, willing them away.
“Hey, Parks, I’ve got to go,” she said. “You have a fun time, okay?”
He grinned at her, looking at the phone once more. “Okay. Bye, Mom!”
Saylor made sure to smile long enough for him to see before the screen went black. Then she sagged and shut the movie off.
“On that note,” she mumbled, staring straight ahead. The wood-burning stove and TV stared back. “Might as well go to sleep.”
She shuffled toward her room, determined not to let this ruin her night. This was how things were now, and the sooner she accepted not having someone, the better she would be. It wouldn’t do her any good to wallow.
Except, that was the thing with being completely alone. Thoughts tended to take over whether she wanted them to or not.
Saylor prepared for bed, thinking the whole time all the reasons why marriage wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. Not with David, anyway, which was one reason she supposed it hadn’t panned out for them. She missed him fixing her car, though. And changing the oil for her. She missed him helping to make pancakes and eggs.
There were other things, too, that she missed. Companionship. Friendship. Courtship. Another body to warm her on cold nights like this.
And kissing. The connection when eyes locked, when the same strain of realization carousing through her mind crossed wavelengths and entered his. That point where two people stood so close only two options were left, and stepping back wasn’t one of them.
Eyes shifted, hearts pulsed, and then they met, mouth to mouth, heart to heart, heat to heat, and his breaths became her breaths. His hands were suddenly the only things that could make the movement of her lips with his any better. Where they landed, how they touched, stroking through her hair, tugging at her back or skimming slightly beneath
