Miracles in the Making Page 7

Laid out across the padded seat offsetting the lovely antiqued window at the face of her apartment, Candy pulled her gaze from the little diamonds flashing in the sky to observe the sparse assortment of vibrant decorations lining her living room walls. Any other year, this time of the season, you could find her parading from place to place, reveling in one celebration or another. Today it just didn’t seem worth it; the pleasure had somehow faded away. Perhaps the parties this year weren’t as vivacious or perhaps the dynamic had somehow changed. Perhaps if I stopped to think it over I might figure it out. But no, She decided with a shake of her head, right now it just isn’t worth it. Her days she spent at her shop, serving the customers who flooded in. She spent her nights at home, watching her fire and reading or talking with her cat. For a while, this worked out perfectly, saving her exhaustion or pain. No one around her was bothered, leaving her to do as she would.

On the day just prior to Christmas Eve, however, all of this changed. Curled up near her fire with a book cupped in one hand and Pan held with the other, she was lost in the story before her when she heard a knock on her front door.

“Come in, come in please,” Candy absently called to the visitor, too lost in her story to bother looking up.

Marie and Lacy rushed through the doorway, leaving the portal to swing. “So, you are alive. That’s good news, I’ll say,” Lacy said as she strolled forward, nearing where her sister rested.

Candy arched one brow, her book frozen in her hand. “That’s good news?”

Both of her siblings halted. The concern flashed in each woman’s shaky smile. “I’d sure like to think so.” Marie clasped her hat. Sweeping the piece to one side, she motioned for Lacy to join them.

The other girl complied, never bothering with much hesitation. Surrounded on each side by one of her sisters, Candy saw little room for escape. She felt trapped; at the same time, as she felt comforted. Giving in to the puzzling contradiction, she eased against the cushion that lined the curving pane and allowed the nerves she hadn’t realized were tight to slacken.

“I miss him,” she admitted. “It was all right before, for hell’s sake,—for so long it felt normal. The quiet I mean. For all that time, my Peter was company enough. I didn’t realize what I was missing, but now I’ve had a taste. It’s more like poison!”

Lacy inched a little closer. “Not so much. Maybe it feels that way because you no longer hold it. If you were to see him, wouldn’t you be happy?”

“I think she would. Why, when they were together, that’s the happiest I’ve seen our sis.” Marie put in, one hand linked to her outer hip. She wasn’t about to be budged.

Candy’s head drooped forward; with no real path before her, she stared at the ground. “If you two believe, for even a minute, any chance exists that I will ever see the man again, you’re downright crazy! Tell me how that is supposed to happen? I don’t have the first notion where he is and I will readily bet you, he won’t come to see me!”

Marie left her arm to fall. “Here I always marked you as the most optimistic of the lot of us.”

“Pretty easy to pull off when you’re not the one in love. Don’t you know there was a reason I steered clear of the fix for all these years? It served me in no way the first time and hasn’t done much better now.”

“That’s because you won’t let it,” Lacy pointed out with one slim elbow curving around Candy’s shoulder.

The fire rising inside of Candy weakened. Once again, her temper ebbed. Looking over to Lacy, she responded with a ghost of a smile—the first in quite some time. “Thanks.”

“No cost.” Lacy’s crystal blue eyes glimmered. “As for that dilemma you find to attractive.” She looked over to Marie. “Given a little help, I bet we could resolve that. Marie, what are you thinking?”

Linking hands with her younger sister at the base of Candy’s neck, each girl searched her face for some hint of her opinion.

Her breathing came in gusts—heavy and distressed—and she gazed up at the ceiling. “It’s all one big mess. I’ve been this route before and it didn’t work out that time. I have no reason to think it will now. I won’t try to deny it. He was an incredible man, always stopping to help one person or another. I don’t honestly know how I could have doubted such a selfless person. Still, it’s over. I did that. I just don’t see the chance.”

Marie and Lacy shared a glance. They didn’t need to voice their thoughts. Each one knew the other well enough. Their thoughts glistened in their eyes. Marie and Lacy nodded. Candy huffed out a sigh and combed her fingers through her hair. She warned both girls, “Just stay out of trouble and, as God as my witness, keep me out of it will you?”

Lacy rolled her shoulders. “Hard to do completely, seeing as you’re the bigger part of the design.”

“You could make it a point to try.” Candy pushed away, perching at the very edge of the padded seat.

Lacy replied with a wispy beam, “All right, all right, don’t go getting your feathers in a knot.”

Candy jumped to fire back but, before she could find her voice, Marie lifted her small hand. Taking the chance while she still had it, she explained to her sister, “The reason we came here in the first place, aside from assuring ourselves that you were not dead, is the two of us wonder if you intend to join us for Christmas at the family lodge. You never did say one way or the other. I can’t see anything to stop you at this point. Well?”

The atmosphere thickened, the pleasure they had shared only moment before dissolving away fast, but Candy did not respond. The idea fluttered in her head, just out of her grasp. The minutes passed before them, not helping the tension of the mood. At last, she slumped her shoulders. Her gaze drifted between the other two girls. “That would be very nice.” />
Startled by her voice, Marie and Lacy jerked. Lacy was first to speak. “Did I hear correctly—you agreed to come along?”

Slowly a cheerful smile swept Candy’s soft pink lips, chasing away what had been a disappointed line. “Marie,” she told her sister. “You were right to point it out. There’s not much else I could be doing. I dare admit that I might enjoy myself. The mountains are so beautiful this time of year, the snow so white and frothy; it’s like a faerie paradise.” Her eyes grew dark and dreamy, and color warmed her cheeks. The stiffness that previously ensnared her from her fingers down, finally crumbled, replaced by the vivacious beauty that was normally so much a part of her.

“Now, that’s more like it.” Lacy returned the smile, rising to her feet. “Marie, what do you say? I think it’s safe for us to go.”

Marie slid from position, pausing in the act to give Candy a tight hug. “You used to believe in Christmas miracles,” she warned.

“Once I also believed in Santa.” Candy laughed a little as she said it, stripping the sharp edge from her words. “Thank you,” she added. “I needed that more than I understood.”

Exchanging embraces and “I love you’s”, Candy watched as her sisters started on their way.

“What comes next?” she wondered, speaking aloud to the empty room. “Is it so much to ask?” Not sure whether she wanted to hear the answer, she settled by the window and allowed her eyes to gradually drift closed.

* * * *

She dreamed of a charming prince with eyes like wild ocean waves and filled with lively vigor. His lips, full and sexy, begged to be kissed. At one corner they quirked up the slightest bit, just enough to whisper of a charming smile. The night, overcast by a heavy clouds, created an extra layer of darkness and disguised the glitter of the stars.

Together they stood before a pond, listening as the fish brought motion to the surface. He offered his hand, drawing her against him. The feel of his skin smooth against her own was enough to make a tear slide down her cheek. As quickly as it emerged, it all was gone.

Candy rubbed her eyes, adjusting her view to the light sparkling through her window, to the truth she allowed herself to forget. With a little amused laugh at her own absurdity, she stumbled to her feet. Dreams were for children weren’t they? To dare to believe otherwise was an adventure in itself. Right now, the idea of breakfast was escapade enough.