Chapter 36: Chapter 36

“It’s snowing. Hard.” Memory stood next to the front window of her shop, watching the snow plummet to the earth like the down of an angry goose.

“It’s fine,” Ellie assured her, straightening the items behind the cash register. “Caroling is better with a little snow.”

“This isn’t a little snow. Look at it, Ellie. It’s practically a white out.”

Ellie chuckled. “Honey, just because you don’t like to sing, that doesn’t mean you should let it ruin your evening. You haven’t had much time to see Dak at all this week, and if I recall, he’s not going to be here too much longer. You should probably spend your time wisely.”

Memory pulled herself away from the window and checked the clock again. It was a quarter till 5:00. She’d be locking up soon, heading home to eat dinner and put on as many layers as she could before she met Dak and the rest of the carolers at the gazebo across the street, which she could barely see through the snow.

Ellie was right. The last couple of days, she’d only seen Dak a few times, when he’d stopped by to get boxes and take them to the post office for her on Monday, when he’d brought her lunch on Tuesday but hadn’t had time to stick around and eat with her, and then yesterday he’d ducked in quickly on his way out to a meeting. They’d texted each other a few times—mostly him making sure she wasn’t planning on trying to get out of going caroling with him and her pretending as if she were coming down with a cold in case she needed that excuse—not that he hadn’t seen right through it. The idea of missing someone she hardly knew seemed silly, but she felt it just the same.

Still, Memory was no singer, and the idea of just standing there smiling while others joined their voices in celebrating the season made her feel out of place. When she was younger, she’d gone several times with her friends and family, just as she had the skating party. She hadn’t realized then how awful her singing voice was. It wasn’t until another kid pointed it out in music class at school she grasped how off tune she was. If tunes could be carried in buckets, the scoop on a bulldozer wouldn’t be big enough for her to get a handle on one.

“Lorelei will be so upset if you don’t go,” Ellie reminded her. “Not to mention I know for a fact Dak is looking forward to seeing you. Maybe almost as much as you’re looking forward to seeing him.” Ellie winked at her, and Memory didn’t try to hide the blush that turned her cheeks the same shade as Santa’s hat. “You do like him, don’t you?”

Considering her face was already answering that question of its own accord, Memory could hardly claim she didn’t. “I like him. He’s a great guy. It’s just... he doesn’t live here, Ellie. And if he buys one of these properties and turns it into something that doesn’t benefit the town....”

Ellie made a tsking sound with her tongue. “I thought you knew him better than that by now, Memory.” She shook her head but didn’t say anything else, turning back to her work.

Memory straightened up some of the displays, knowing Ellie was right. Dak seemed to love Christmas Falls. Why would he want to do anything that might jeopardize the traditions he was so excited to take part in? Memory’s instincts told her that he wouldn’t, and she wanted to trust him, but in her mind, warning signs blared as loudly as the air horn Mayor Charles had been using Saturday at the snowman build. She’d lost enough people in her lifetime not to want to take the chance on giving her heart to someone too soon, and if anything happened to change Christmas Falls, it would be like losing someone she loved all over again.

“You should go,” Ellie said, checking the clock. “Your car will need to warm up. I can lock up.”

“You’re going, too,” Memory reminded her, sitting up an overturned Santa.

“Yes, but I don’t have to get myself all dolled up.” Ellie giggled like a high school girl. “Besides, I can remote start my car. Go on, Memory.”

If she’d learned anything in the last week and a half it was not to bother to waste her breath arguing with Ellie. “Okay. Thanks.”

“Sure. See you in a bit.” Ellie smiled encouragingly, and Memory headed to the back to get her belongings and start for home.

The snow was really coming down by the time she pulled into her driveway, and it made her more than a little nervous. Her car didn’t like slick conditions, and even though there was more snow than ice on the roads at the moment, it worried her for later. She was glad Ellie didn’t have to go far and hoped she’d get a ride back to the square with Dak.

Inside, she could hear her dad warming up his vocal cords in his bedroom. Both of her parents were lovely singers, and Kirsten wasn’t bad either. Ignoring the tinge of jealousy, Memory paused for a second to listen to his rendition of “The First Noel” and then headed to her bedroom to get changed.

She knew she wouldn’t have too much time to get ready, so she’d laid out her outfit the night before. Layers were the key to keeping warm, and she’d be wearing plenty of them. She wore thick leggings under her jeans, two pairs of socks and snow boots, and layered her shirts. Deciding she’d get too hot inside if she went ahead and put her thick red sweater on, she touched up her makeup, switched her earrings, and sprayed a little of the vanilla scented perfume she’d gotten for Christmas last year behind her ears. Satisfied that she looked presentable, Memory headed to the kitchen.

Her dad was still singing as he stirred a pot on the stove. The aroma of chicken soup made Memory feel all warm inside. “Hey, Dad. How was your day?”

“Any time my boss says go home it’s snowing, it’s been a good day.” Bryce chuckled. “How was yours?”

“Good.” She went to the cupboard and pulled out a couple of bowls while her dad got the ladle. “That smells wonderful.”

“Thanks—we shall see if I’ve warmed it up correctly.”

Memory spied a soup can on top of the trash can and hid a smile. She knew it wasn’t homemade, but they could pretend. “Soup was a good choice today.” The silverware drawer needed organizing, but she managed to find two spoons.

“I thought so. It’s gonna be cold out there tonight. Hopefully, we’ll find plenty of houses with hot chocolate.” He handed her a bowl, and they headed to the dining room.

Memory’s phone dinged in her pocket. Her first instinct was to ignore it because they didn’t use technology at the table, but she thought she should look and see if it was Dak. Maybe he wanted to cancel. “Mind if I check that?”

“No. In this weather, it could be important.” Bryce smiled at her, and Memory pulled her phone out.

“Do you want a ride? It’s really coming down out there.”

Her turned as warm as the soup. As much as Memory wanted to respond, “Yes,” she’d love it if Dak picked her up, those cautionary bells were going off again. “Dad, would you mind if I rode with you? I’d rather not take the Accord out in this.”

“Sure, we can ride together. I’m meeting... a friend... but then so are you. Your sister is worried about taking Anson out in this, though. That wasn’t her, was it?”

“No, and Dad, I know you’re meeting Sheila. You guys do lots of stuff together. Why are you always so hesitant to mention her by name?” She sent a quick text back to Dak letting him know she was riding with her dad and thanking him for the offer.

“I don’t know,” Bryce admitted, fighting to keep a noodle on his spoon that wanted to plunge back into the pool of broth. “I guess I’m still not sure we’re ready.”

“Who? You and Sheila?”

“No, I mean... yes, but I was talking about our family. Me, you, Kirsten. I know it’s been twenty-five years since your mom passed away, but I don’t want you girls to think that I don’t love her anymore.”

“Dad....” Memory reached over and put her hand on his arm. “We know you’ll always love Mom. But she would’ve wanted you to move on, to be happy. You seem happy when you’re with Sheila. Maybe it’s time to talk about taking your relationship to the next level.”

Bryce was quiet for a moment, and Memory could see him contemplating he words. “Maybe so.” He took a drink of his tea. “She is a wonderful person.”

A smile pulled up the corners of her mouth. “She is.” Sheila was nothing like her mom, but as long as she made her dad happy, she didn’t care. “And she obviously likes you.”

Color crept up his neck above the buttoned color of his blue shirt peeking out from his navy sweater. “Was that Dak?”

“Are you changing the subject?”

“Speaking of obviously liking someone.” He raised an eyebrow at her.

“Me? Are you talking about me?”

Chuckling, Bryce said, “Actually, no, I wasn’t. I was talking about him.”

“Oh.” She wasn’t sure what to do with that. “You think?”

“I’m pretty sure. I’ve spent a great deal of time observing young men who may or may not have had intentions toward one of my daughters. He definitely likes you, Memory. How do you feel about him?”

Her soup was suddenly the most interesting thing in the world. Memory stared into it, swirling her spoon, wishing she had finished it a few minutes ago so she could avoid that question. “He’s a nice guy.” The words sounded silly coming out of her mouth; it was the way she’d describe a neighbor or someone a friend was dating.

Bryce saw right through it. “You still don’t think you can trust him, do you?”

Memory took a few more bites of her soup, swallowing it down quickly so she could leave the table, before she paused to say, “I think I can. But at the end of the day, he is here for business, Dad.”

“That doesn’t mean he won’t find a different reason to stay.”

Pushing her chair back, she gathered up her not-so-empty bowl, hoping she wasn’t being rude. “Do you have any idea how much money he comes from, Dad?” she asked, scooting her chair in with her stomach since her hands were full with dishes. “I’m sure there are plenty of high society girls who are more his style beating his door down back in Chicago.”

“You’re probably right about them beating his door down,” Bryce admitted, following her into the kitchen. “I think Dak prefers someone a little more small town, though.”

Memory emptied out her bowl and rinsed it in the sink, taking her dad’s and doing the same. “Dad, you’ve only known him a couple of days.”

“I’m a pretty good judge of character,” he reminded her, patting her shoulder. “Just... try to listen with your heart, Ree, and don’t attribute anything to his cause that he hasn’t mentioned himself.”

Memory nodded, thinking over her father’s advice as she took care of the soup pot and he walked back through the dining room, singing again. If only it was as easy as he made it seem.

Dishes done, she went to her room to put on her sweater, noting they’d need to leave soon if they were to arrive at the square on time. Her phone was in her pocket, and that’s all she’d need to take with her besides a few dollars, just in case she needed to buy something. Her coat was tighter than usual over the bulky sweater and layers, but she knew she’d appreciate it after a few minutes of standing outside. Gloves, scarf, hat and earmuffs on, she went out to find her dad equally as bundled up coming back in from the driveway.