She didn’t want to. But she did anyway.
“Let me help,” she whispered, unable to catch her own stampeding breath.
Slowly, she guided his hands through the process, paying special attention to the tips of the stars.
“See?” She withdrew from him as he laid the star down on the cookie sheet, wanting to wipe the girlish swoon from her eyes before he could catch it. “Perfect.”
“Thanks.”
Was it her hope talking, or did he sound as breathless as she felt? Kate cleared her throat and returned to their task. Maybe talking about him would remove all of the magic tingles crossing her skin.
“Don’t think you’re getting out of it.” She nudged him playfully with her shoulder. “Why haven’t you had Christmas for twenty years?”
“I went to boarding school.”
A diplomatic answer. Kate didn’t accept it.
“And what? You never came back?”
“My parents died on New Year’s. We’d just had our big family Christmas. I was only nine.” Her lungs stopped working as he delivered his story with matter-of-fact sincerity. Her hands stilled over the cookies, but Clark went on cutting. “They were up in Eagle Point. I was here with my uncle. They went to a party and never came home. They told me a drunk driver lost control on a patch of black ice.”
“Oh, Clark. I didn’t mean… I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”
Such a small way to apologize for something so massive, but Kate couldn’t think of anything else to say. The gears of comprehension ground together in her head as information flew at her. She pieced it together. It all led to one heartbreaking picture.
“That’s why I was so afraid of the forest. When they told me, I just ran out there. I didn’t bring a flashlight or anything. I just ran through the rain until I couldn’t see the house anymore. My uncle came out and found me eventually, but I was…” He rubbed a rough hand over his face. “He took custody of me, but I begged to go to boarding school. I didn’t want to be here and remember. I didn’t want The Christmas Company reminding me of what happened. That’s part of the reason I hate it so much. I didn’t want to think of Christmas ever again. So, I stayed at school almost all year round.”
He shook his head. “On the one hand, it made me the man I am today. I pinch pennies because I’m afraid if I spend a cent out of line I’ll lose the company. The only thing of them I still have. I wear my father’s old suit jackets because I don’t want to lose them. I stayed in school and worked all the time to make them proud, to become the great man they would have wanted me to be. On the other hand…staying at school made it easier to avoid thinking about it. No matter how much my uncle begged me to come home even for a weekend, I just couldn’t face being here. I wanted to hold onto them, but I didn’t want to remember them, either. It was too painful. Now, it’s like I pushed it all away for so long, I can barely remember even when I want to.”
“Why?”
“What do you mean, why?”
“I mean…why are you telling me all this? You could have just lied.”
All at once, she became aware of tears blurring her vision as she gazed up at him. Tears for a man who’d lost everything. He’d been defeated by the world again and again, all while she’d been basking in the attention he’d been denied. The cookie-cutter remained useless in her limp hand. Clark sighed and put his own down to turn and meet her.
“Because this is the first Christmas no one let me be alone. The first time I pushed everyone away but…” They shared a meaningful look, one filled with the warmth of a freshly lit fireplace. “Someone stayed anyway.”
She wanted to hold him. Or kiss him. Anything to show him he didn’t deserve to be alone. Keeping her hands and lips to herself, she swiftly changed the subject, breaking the emotionally devastating mood with one joking question.
“How am I doing so far on that front? Have I made an elf of you?”
“You know, it’s not so bad. I don’t see what the fuss is all about yet, but I’m warming up to it. Keep feeding me these cookies and maybe I’ll like it even more.”
In a few swift movements, he placed the full baking sheet into the oven and plucked a few cookies off of the cooling rack.
“The good news is that we’ll have enough cookies to last us three lifetimes.”
“You don’t know how many cookies I can eat.”
He handed her a stack of five cookies, and Kate’s stomach both curdled and leapt for joy. The idea of so many cookies was appealing, but the reality frightened her stomach. She almost refused the gift. Then, the smell hit her. She was powerless to the combination of sugar and butter cooked to warm perfection.
“If I eat more than twenty, drop a piano on my head,” she encouraged, accepting the stack. “It’s the only way to stop me once I get into a feeding frenzy.”
“Deal.” He laughed, a sound sweeter than any cookies.
They snacked in silence. Though this huge revelation hung between them, things seemed less fraught between them. Still, Kate couldn’t help but sink in the sadness she’d heard in his voice. Cookies weren’t enough to erase that memory.
“Hey, Clark?” she asked.
“Yeah?”
“What do you remember about Christmas? You said you don’t remember much. Do you remember anything?”
Clark hesitated, then shook his head. “I haven’t thought about it in so long.”
“Do you want to remember? You don’t have to. I know it’s hard,” she assured him.
Kate thought of her
