Snowdrop Kisses Part Twenty-Five
A Christmas love story featuring a plucky florist and a tall dark and handsome entrepreneur
Previously… in part 24 Wendy and James see each other again and things take a turn at Harry’s bed and breakfast.
Chapter 50
James, who had been about to reply to Wendy’s accusation, turned open-mouthed toward Harry and Minna.
Harry’s voice was peevish. “I give up on you two! We’ve bent over backwards for you and now I hear that Jamie cocked the whole thing up, so to speak.”
“Yes, really.” Minna chimed in. “Harry and I invested a fair amount of time in this scheme, but James, your inability to control your sexual urges undermines everything we’ve attempted to accomplish.”
“Minna?” exclaimed Wendy.
“I wasn’t… I didn’t…” James looked dumbfounded, but went on the attack. “What the hell are you two doing in a broom closet?”
Minna fluffed up her hair, “I believe it’s a linen cupboard.”
Harry nodded. “We were spying on you. To see if we could get our plan back on track.”
“Wait a minute, Minna was in on it too?” Wendy was processing this new twist.
James stared at Wendy. “You knew about this?”
She shrugged. “I had some suspicions, but I didn’t realise Minna was involved.”
Harry chuckled. “She was the mastermind! Minna and me have been trying to fix you two up ever since the Gallery.”
“What?” asked James. “Why?”
“At first it was revenge, pure and simple,” explained Minna crisply. “We were disgusted that you nitwits presumed to meddle in our love lives.”
“It got fun pretty damn fast,” chuckled Harry. “Especially when we could see how much you two liked each other.”
Wendy shot an embarrassed glance at James, who was glaring at Minna and Harry.
“So, what did you do?” he asked them.
“Our first attempt was spur of the moment. That Isaiah feller said he might take Wendy to the whiskey bar after their concert. I called you up, Jamie, and arranged for us to meet for a drink. I figured if Wendy didn’t show, I’d at least get you to buy me a glass of Macallan.”
Wendy’s mind reeled. Her meeting with James outside Chronic Pain hadn’t been fate, just the misguided efforts of a couple of elderly cupids. “You set us up again at the party, didn’t you?”
Harry beamed. “We sure did. A few days before the shindig, Minna roped James’ assistant into the plan.”
“What!” James turned red. “Kim was involved?”
Minna spoke. “She was very reluctant, James, but she remarked that she owed Wendy a favour. She seemed to think there was no better repayment then to set her up with you.” Minna shot James an arch look, but refrained from commenting on Kim’s high opinion of her boss. “I purchased a suitable dress for Wendy, and asked Kim to bring it to Stonehaven.”
Harry chimed in. “You looked awfully pretty that night, Wendy.”
Wendy stared at him. She couldn’t believe how elaborate their scheme was.
Minna was speaking now. “Our goal was to get you two alone so you could talk.”
“The conservatory plan seemed to work well. Minna and I saw you dancing, so we figured we’d done our jobs.”
“As the piece de resistance, I asked Harry to fiddle with your car, so you’d be stuck at Stonehaven. I told him not to do anything dangerous or expensive. I hope you weren’t over-charged, dear.” Minna looked solicitously at Wendy, who shook her head.
“We thought we’d done a great job, but then nothing happened. Kim called today to say our matchmaking fizzled, so we took this last kick at the can.” Harry gestured to the romantic scene they’d created.
James recovered from his surprise faster than Wendy. “I can’t believe you two have been manipulating our lives like this!”
“Wasn’t that precisely what you attempted with Harry and I? We just did it better.” Minna’s response seemed to shut James up for a moment.
“Yes, I thought we had done a damn good job, until we realized what a bad match Jamie was. I told him he shouldn’t try to copy his father’s behaviour, but he didn’t listen.”
James interrupted. “Wait a second, Harry, you don’t know what you’re talking ab…”
Harry ignored him, turning to Minna. “I think we should move to our plan “B”. What was your nephew’s name – Rupert? He might be all right.”
“Yes. Now he does have chronic sinus infections. Will a great deal of sniffing and throat-clearing bother you, dear?” Minna turned toward Wendy, a concerned look on her face.
Her question finally snapped Wendy out of her reverie. “I’m not letting you two anywhere near my love life. I’m surprised at you, Harry. I thought we were friends. Why would you try and set me up with a sleazy guy like James?” Wendy pushed past the older couple and ran to the door.
She drove in a haze, desperate for the comfort of home. She was betrayed by Harry and Kim, and stunned by how easily she’d been manipulated. One way or another, everything that had happened between she and James was a lie.
Chapter 51
An hour later, Wendy was slumped on the couch. It was Christmas Eve and she had nowhere to be and no one to be with. Prince’s “Lonely Christmas” was playing on repeat and she stared at It’s a Wonderful Life without actually taking in the story. She hadn’t talked to her parents yet, because she was sure the moment she Facetimed them, she’d burst into tears.
There was a knock at the door. She started in surprise but she didn’t answer. It was probably a lost Uber Eats driver or even worse— some fresh faced carollers. The banging persisted.
“Wendy, I’m not going away until we talk.” James’ voice was forceful.
Her heart leapt at the sound of his voice, but she forced herself to remain rooted to the couch. She called out her response: “Why, so you can tell me some story about how you didn’t actually have sex with Catriona?”
“I didn’t actually have sex with Catriona.”
Enraged, Wendy leapt up, marching to the door and yelling through it. “Yeah right. You can’t be truthful. You’re just like my ex-boyfriend and I’m not going to be played like that again. There’s nothing you can say to get me to open this door.”
She heard another sigh, and then a shuffling sound. She waited a beat, but there was no other sound. He must have left. She opened the door, but left the safety chain on. The hallway was empty, except for Mrs. Turner, who stood in her doorway in a pink housecoat, looking at her with unabashed curiosity.
Wendy shut the door. He had given up so easily. He probably only came over because Harry and Minna pressured him. She slumped against the door, and a deep sob welled up inside her. Before she could start bawling, however, a muffled noise seeped through her window. It sounded like singing. She crossed the room. Yes, someone was singing outside.
She pulled open the window and stared down at the street. James stood in the middle of the sidewalk, stuffed into her manky old Santa costume. While it fit him better than her, even from a distance she could see how dingy and shabby-looking it was. His Santa hat was askew, dangling off his head at a drunken angle. She knew what that suit smelled like. Though she washed it multiple times, she never succeeded in completely eliminating the rental stink of cigarettes and salami. She felt a momentary pang of pity for James.
He held his office’s portable karaoke machine in one hand and a microphone in another. He was singing “All I Want for Christmas,” at the top of his lungs. His voice wavered into a yowling bellow as he strained for Mariah’s high notes, which he had neither the talent nor range to hit.
“What are you doing?” Wendy yelled.
“I didn’t have sex with Catriona at the party,” he bellowed into the microphone.
Wendy’s face went scarlet. “Shut up,” she hissed.
He resumed singing.
“Stop that noise,” Wendy said. “You’re disturbing the peace.”
“I won’t stop singing until we talk about this.”
Traffic was slowing and several pedestrians formed a loose circle around James.
Three windows over, Mrs. Turner popped her head out her window. “You suck,” she yelled down.
James glared at her and started into the second verse.
Mrs. Turner shook her head and turned to Wendy. “He’s a terrible singer, but I believe him. He didn’t sleep with that Catriona. A guilty man wouldn’t do this.”
Wendy stared at her neighbour. Maybe James was being truthful. Still, how many times had Martin given her a story about a bill she’d found for a hotel room, or the scent of perfume on one of his shirts? Could she trust James?
She thought about how vulnerable he had looked that night outside of Chronic Pain.
James was stamping his feet and shivering. The snow was coming down thicker now. He finished with Mariah and started Let it Snow.
She remembered him laughing in the milking shed. She remembered the way his lips felt on hers. The wind picked up now and was fiercely blowing. The small group of onlookers started to disperse. James continued, his voice getting hoarse.
He was singing his heart out, placing particularly emphasis on the line “as long as you love me so.” She remembered him holding her hand as they descended the stairs to the party. He had promised not to let her fall. He wouldn’t let her down. She wasn’t the same woman who had put up with Martin, and James was not Martin. James wouldn’t betray her.
She turned and ran out of her apartment to the stairs. She took the steps two at a time. She burst out of her building, onto the street. James turned toward her, the song dying on his lips as they stared at one another.
She took a deep breath. She exhaled. “I believe you, James.”
“Thank God!” he exclaimed.
“Now zip it!” Mrs. Turner shouted, shutting her window with a bang.
”Why don’t you come upstairs, so that we can sort this out?” Wendy asked
The slap of James’ oversized Santa boots was the only sound breaking the awkward silence as they walked up the two flights.
Wendy’s mind was churning with a mixture of hope and dread. James obviously had things to say to her, but would she want to hear them? Her confusion made her tone aggressive when they got into her apartment. She crossed her arms and turned to him. “So, how do you explain coming out of Catriona’s room the night of the party?”
“That’s why you thought we’d slept together?” His voice was incredulous.
Wendy went on the defensive, “You forget I’ve spent years sending flowers to all of your cast-off lovers. Plus, you admitted that you like a lot of variety in your lady friends.”
“By about three a.m. everyone had gone to bed, but Catriona and I needed to debrief. We were talking in her room, when her cell rang. I thought it was mine, so I answered. I don’t know who was more surprised, me or your friend Isaiah.”
“What!” That was the last thing Wendy expected.
“That was pretty much my reaction. Apparently he and Catriona agreed to meet up after the party. He had driven back from Ottawa. She was embarrassed to be caught out by the boss. Anyway, I left right away. That’s when you saw me coming out of her room.”
Here was the explanation she craved. She remembered how she had caught Isaiah and Catriona together by the conservatory that Saturday afternoon. “That all makes sense,” Wendy said. She’d been such a fool.
James stopped pacing and sat heavily on her sofa. “You were right to be suspicious, Wendy. My romantic history is not great. I never let myself fall in love. I thought I was being smart, like my father, skimming along the surface of romance… Only now I understand that’s not what he was doing. He had the real thing with my mother, and after she died he spent the rest of his life chasing it. He wasn’t running from love, he was running to it.”
His words hung in the air. Wendy longed to tell him how she felt, but her courage failed her. Instead she stuck with a more prosaic question. “You went to the store to get our Santa suit. How did you convince Vivienne to let you borrow it?”
James grinned. “It took a lot of grovelling.”
She could imagine her pugnacious assistant would have made him beg. Wendy chuckled and relaxed a little. She sat on the edge of the sofa.
“I pleaded with her to lend it to me, but she wouldn’t hear of it. I tried bribing her, but she lectured me on capitalism.”
“How did you change her mind?”
He answered slowly. “I told her that embarrassing myself in a worn out and frankly disgusting Santa suit was the only way I could make the most ornery and prickly woman I know listen to me. I told her that, despite all my safeguards and defences, the sassiest, funniest, sweetest woman I ever met had made me fall in love with her.
Wendy’s heart leapt. “But, but, you get bored with the same woman.” She repeated his words back to him, needing reassurance.
“As it turns out, I just hadn’t met the right woman. I kept waiting to get bored with you, but it never happened. Instead, you argued with me, threw things at me, sucked my nose and fell on top of me. You made me mad, you made me laugh and you turned me on. I’ve never met anyone like you before. You’ve enchanted me, Wendy Blake.”
She leaned back on the couch, trying to process his words. “Oh.”
“I woke up Monday morning, with you lying beside me, and I knew that I had come home. For the first time in my life, I loved someone.”
Wendy broke into a wide smile and her heart hammered in her chest. She still had questions though. “Why weren’t you there when I woke up?”
“I went swimming because I needed to figure out how I could come back to the bedroom and resist kissing you long enough to tell you how I felt. But, when I got back, I was met with an ice princess. I’ve been walking around like I’ve been kicked in the gut for a week. I realize your feelings probably aren’t as strong as mine, but I’m not the sleaze you thought I was. Would you at least give it a shot?”
“Give it a shot?” Wendy asked incredulously, “Give it a shot? James, that is the least romantic question I’ve ever heard!” But she was smiling as she said it. Wendy didn’t think she would ever stop smiling. “Of course I’ll give it a shot! I think I’ve loved you since the first time you marched into my store and tried to boss me around!”
James pulled her into his fuzzy arms. Their lips met, expressing all the frustrated longing of the past few days. When they finally came up for air, James muttered hoarsely, “I was not being bossy, I was politely asking for a few answers.”
Snuggling contentedly in his arms, Wendy snorted, “There is nothing polite about you, James Crofton!” And for the next few hours he proceeded to prove her right.
THE END
Thanks so much for reading! Expect a couple more wrap up posts in your inbox in the next few days.
In the meantime, please let me know what you thought in the comments — or drop me a note at amytectorwrites@gmail.com — I would really appreciate your thoughts, good or bad!