SECOND DOWN SCROOGE

CHAPTER ONE

Ā© LISA SUZANNE 2024

 

 

 

Chapter 1: Kelly Kaplan

Darling Christmas Cookie Wreaths
Four Weeks Until Christmas

 

ā€œCookieā€™s Cookies and Cakes, this is Kelly speaking.ā€ I blow a breath upward in some attempt to push my hair out of my eyes, and I glance over at the baby corner under the windows in my office. Soon enough, weā€™re going to have to turn it into a toddler corner. Mia is crawling all over the place at ten months, and soon sheā€™ll be walking, andā€¦then I guess I canā€™t confine her to a corner in my office anymore.

ā€œHey. Itā€™s me.ā€

My chest tightens as I hear his voice. It shouldnā€™t tighten. I should be past all this by now, ready to move on with some hot new hunk.

Iā€™m not ready, and I wish I knew why heā€™s calling me at work rather than on my phone.

ā€œWhy didnā€™t you just call my phone?ā€ I ask. Itā€™s throwing me off to be on my office line with him rather than on my phone.

ā€œI did. It went to voicemail.ā€

I glance at my desk as I look for my phone, and I donā€™t even see it. I have Christmas music playing while I work on a set of wreaths to hang up in the shop, and I have little faux cookies and cakes scattered all over my desk. I decorated those with red and green paint yesterday, and Iā€™m hot-gluing them on the wreaths today.

I move some red and green ribbon, and voilaā€¦thereā€™s the phone.

I pick it up and spot the missed call.

ā€œSorry,ā€ I mutter. ā€œIā€™m in the middle of something. What do you need?ā€

ā€œI, uh, sorry, but I canā€™t do next Tuesday with Mia.ā€ He sounds apologetic, and itā€™s rare he misses time with Mia, but that doesnā€™t make the feeling of being let down any less brutal. ā€œI got invited to this charity thing, and the entire coaching staff will be there, so I need to make sure to put in my time. Our offensive coordinator is big on face time off the field.ā€ He sounds annoyed by that fact.

ā€œOkay,ā€ I mutter with a sigh. Itā€™s not that I mind being with Mia twenty-four seven. I adore her. Sheā€™s my entire world. Sheā€™s my littlest best friend, which is why I nicknamed her Miamigaā€”like mi amiga. It just came out one day, and it stuck.

Itā€™s just that Tuesdays are when I book all my appointments so I donā€™t have to drag the baby along with me, and I scheduled a haircut and my annual exam this Tuesday. Itā€™s Austinā€™s one day off each week, and he always spends it with his little girl.

I guess Iā€™m either canceling or Miaā€™s coming with me. Good thing sheā€™s young enough not to remember her momā€™s feet in stirrups with my legs spread eagle as a doctor sticks various items up my hoo-ha.

ā€œIā€™m sorry. Donā€™t be mad. Can I make it up to you by spending some time with her after practice on Friday?ā€ he asks.

ā€œThatā€™s fine.ā€ I yank on some of the mesh that looks crooked. ā€œI guess Iā€™ll see you then.ā€

ā€œAre you ready to give this another chance yet?ā€ he asks.

I chuckle. He ends pretty much every conversation the same way.

Itā€™s not that I donā€™t want to give him a chance. The way my chest tightened when his voice took me off guard tells me I still have feelings for him. Strong ones. Usually I can manage them better when I see his name flash on my phone screen as if itā€™s serving as a warning, and this time I was just caught off guard.

We have a history. He betrayed my best friend and her husband when he secretly recorded a private conversation and sold it to the highest bidder, and I canā€™t get past that. Iā€™m nothing if not a loyal friend. I already had trust issues, ones he was aware of, and he swooped in and proved I couldnā€™t trust him. If he could hurt my friends, how can I be sure Iā€™m not next on his list?

I may be a generally optimistic and positive person, but that doesnā€™t mean I hand out my trust easily.

Thereā€™s way less risk to my heart by keeping him at armā€™s length. Iā€™ve done it for a year and a half now, and I donā€™t see that changing anytime soon.

Thatā€™s not to say I wouldnā€™t want another night or two with him. We could have some fun and keep our emotions in checkā€¦right?

Wrong.

I know itā€™s wrong because we tried it. Thereā€™s a little voice in the back of my head that reminds me of that fact whenever I get any silly ideas that we could make it work.

We canā€™t. We tried. We failed. Thatā€™s that.

ā€œNot yet,ā€ I say lightly.

ā€œFine,ā€ he mutters. ā€œIā€™ll talk to you soon.ā€

I hang up and finish the wreath, and I spot Mia climbing into her bouncy chair, her tiny ponytail made out of the little whisps of hair I gathered up on top of her head swinging with her movements. Thatā€™s usually the signal that sheā€™s tired and ready for a nap, so I walk over, pick her up, and snuggle her to my chest. ā€œDaddy said heā€™ll see you Friday, baby girl,ā€ I murmur.

I walk over to the rocking chair Ava ordered for my office, and I sit down and start to rock her. Her eyes close, and once Iā€™m certain sheā€™s asleep, I set her in the bassinet that sheā€™s nearly starting to outgrow.

I take my wreath and my baby monitor, and I head out of my office, lock the door, and walk out toward the cafe, where I find Ava talking to some customers over the counter. Once theyā€™re done, I show her the wreath.

ā€œGod, Kel. Youā€™re so talented. I wish I had half the creativity you do.ā€

ā€œYou totally do. Your cookies are the cutest in town.ā€ I nod toward the case of cookies. The hottest sellers right now are the Vegas Aces cookies sheā€™s been making with the team logo since her husband is a former player on the team. In fact, the night she met himā€”or re-met him, I guess, since sheā€™d known him since she was a kid but hadnā€™t seen him in a decadeā€”was the same night I met Austin. It was a year and a half ago now, but sheā€™s married, and Iā€™mā€¦not.

Iā€™m an exhausted single mom.

We had a fling, we had some fun, and I ended up pregnant. And thatā€™s pretty much the end of our story. He did some underhanded things, I found out he was a member of a sex club, and I canā€™t be anything more than a co-parent with him.

And flaking on our standing Tuesday appointment feels like a step backward instead of forward.

Heā€™s in season, though, so Iā€™m trying to be understanding.

ā€œOh, that wreath is just darling!ā€ Mrs. Howard says from the other side of the counter. ā€œHow much is it?ā€

ā€œOh, no, these arenā€™t for sale,ā€ I say. ā€œJust decorations I made for Ava.ā€ I hang it on the wall behind the register where we always hang a wreath for whatever holiday is coming next. Itā€™s the Saturday after Thanksgiving, so all the Christmas dĆ©cor is going up today.

ā€œIā€™d pay fifty for one,ā€ Mrs. Howard says. ā€œAnd so would every other lady in my bunco group.ā€

I glance over at her in surprise. ā€œReally?ā€

She nods. ā€œReally. Theyā€™re just adorableā€¦and so are you. In fact, youā€™d be perfect for my grandson. Are you seeing anybody?ā€

Gotta hand it to grandmas. Somehow, they just know the exact most awkward thing to say.

ā€œOh, Iā€™m not really dating right now,ā€ I decline respectfully. ā€œSingle mom, busy work schedule, you know how it goes.ā€ I duck my head in embarrassment.

ā€œI do. All the more reason to get you out to have a little fun. Howā€™s Friday?ā€ she asks.

ā€œYour cakes are ready,ā€ Callie says as she walks in from the kitchen with two boxes, and Iā€™m thankful for the interruption.

ā€œThank you, honey,ā€ Mrs. Howard says. Jenny follows behind Callie with two more boxes, and Mrs. Howard looks at me. ā€œWould you help me get these out to my car, dear?ā€

I nod. ā€œOf course.ā€

I carry two boxes, and she carries the other two. I carefully set them in the trunk of her Lincoln.

ā€œNow about Friday. Max can pick you up from here or at your house around, sayā€¦seven?ā€

ā€œMrs. Howard! Donā€™t be silly. You didnā€™t even check with Max to see if heā€™s free.ā€

She laughs. ā€œHeā€™s got dinner plans with me on Friday at seven.ā€ She leans in toward me. ā€œIā€™m just swapping out me for you.ā€

ā€œIā€™m sure heā€™d really appreciate that, but I canā€™t. Really.ā€ Exceptā€¦I can. Austin just called to tell me that he wants to spend time with Mia on Friday after practice, and he didnā€™t say anything about me being there. And why not get picked up for a date while heā€™s there? Maybe itā€™ll send him the message Iā€™m trying to send.

Except, to be honest, Iā€™m not even sure what that message is at this point.

Iā€™m holding him at armā€™s length even though I want him. Iā€™m half in love with him, half in hate with him. Iā€™m still angry that he hurt my friend, his priorities are not aligned with mine, and Iā€™m trying to move on, but I canā€™t since we see each other at a minimum of once a week with this whole co-parenting thing, and Iā€™m still so attracted to him that itā€™s unreal.

I canā€™t stay stuck in neutral forever. I should do something about it.

ā€œHeā€™s a real catch, but I understand,ā€ she says. She smiles warmly at me, and then she walks toward the driverā€™s side of her car.

Moving on. The message I want to send is that itā€™s time for me to move on.

ā€œOkay,ā€ I sort of yelp in agreement before she leaves, surprising even myself at my outburst. She stops and looks up at me. ā€œOkay, Iā€™ll go out with him.ā€

Her lips break out into a broad smile. ā€œThatā€™s wonderful.ā€

I give her my number and tell her to have Max text me, and then I wonder what the hell I just agreed to.