Tanya Michaels: Mistletoe Hero

“Outside the post office. I promised Mom I’d run in before they closed today and pick her up some stamps. Why?”

“Because I thought we might have dinner together and celebrate some minor news.”

She leaned back in her seat, loving how happy he sounded. “I’m always up for a celebration. What’s the news?”

“That college in South Carolina? They want to have a phone interview with me next week, and if that goes well, meet me in person. They also offer an internship program for employees who are interested in pursuing degrees.”

“That’s great.” But the words of congratulations were like gravel in her mouth. Did he have to sound so overjoyed about getting away from here?

He tuned into her dismay immediately. “We’ll figure something out. You know I don’t want to stop seeing you.”

“Neither do I.” But seeing him would be more difficult if they were in two separate states.

It’s not as if they were talking about a short-term assignment, where he went for a few quarters of college work and came back. Even as happy as he’d seemed during the week since the festival, he’d never talked about settling permanently in Mistletoe.

Arianne tried to imagine herself anywhere else and failed. This town was as much her family as David or Tanner. “You know,” she said, “Mistletoe does have a really good community college.”

“So you’ve mentioned. About a dozen times this week.” He sighed, and she felt terrible, as if she’d sucked the wind from his sails. “It’s almost five. If you’re going to run into the post office, I should let you go.”

“What about dinner?” Nice going, Ari. He’d been so upbeat when he called.

“You can call me back,” he said tersely. Then he disconnected.

Arianne got out of the car, determined to get her reservations under control so that by the time she spoke to him again, she could sound genuinely congratulatory instead of resentful.

A man leaving the building with his mail held the door open for her, and she stopped in her tracks.

There was a reproachful look in his familiar silvery eyes. “You going in or not?” he asked.

“You!” It seemed like a sign from the heavens. “You’re Gabe’s father.”

The man shifted uncomfortably as if uneasy with that designation. “I’m Jeremy Sloan.”

Jeremy Sloan, the man who’d loved his dead wife more than the son who had lived. “I’m Arianne Waide, your son’s girlfriend.” Which made them like in-laws once removed, and Ari had never been shy about giving her relatives, even the distant ones, advice.

“I don’t suppose you’ve ever considered making amends for being a bad father?” she snapped, angry that she might be losing Gabe just as she found him and frustrated with Jeremy’s role in that. Perhaps if he and his son had mended their fences, Gabe could be more content here.

Jeremy’s mouth dropped open, his face coloring. “Is that what he says, that I was a bad father?”

“He doesn’t say much one way or the other,” she admitted. “I was putting words in his mouth. But come on! When was the last time you spent any time with him? Do you know that even Earline Ortz spoke to him last weekend? She forgave him for Shay’s death, so why can’t you?”

“Ms. Waide, my relationship with my son is none of your business.” He let go of the door and marched past her on the sidewalk.

Arianne took a breath, realizing she’d botched this conversation unforgivably, but she hadn’t been prepared. “Mr. Sloan? I don’t think you have a relationship with your son, and maybe you’re okay with that. But if you aren’t, act fast. He’s leaving.”

The man turned to face her. “Leaving? To go where? He’s spent his whole life here.”

“Be that as it may, he doesn’t want to spend the rest of his life here,” she said gently, pleased to see that Jeremy looked upset about this. Perhaps the threat of losing Gabe permanently would goad the man into action.

If Gabe really was moving soon, she’d like that to be her parting gift to him. He might think that all he needed for a fresh start was a new address, but you couldn’t start anew if you were still emotionally chained to the old.

She just hoped that a new beginning for him didn’t mean the end for them.

GABE WAS IN HELL. Oh, it might look like a charming Sunday dinner complete with smiling Waides and delicious homemade food-Ari hadn’t exaggerated her mother’s culinary prowess-but it was nonetheless Hades. Since Gabe had never had a serious romantic relationship before, he’d never had to Meet the Family before. It shouldn’t be that hard, given that he already knew everyone seated around the table, but it was agonizing.

He was unused to anyone fussing over him, and Susan Waide’s warm, maternal nature was making him vaguely uncomfortable. But at least she was better than Zachariah, who’d always considered Gabe one of his best clients and treated him well. Today the man was watching him intently beneath bushy eyebrows as if he knew exactly what Gabe and Arianne had been doing last night and emphatically did not approve. But the person at the table who was really driving him crazy was Arianne.

She’d been manic for the last couple of days, talking him up to people as if he were campaigning for an actual political position instead of the throwaway title of Mistletoe’s Man of the Year. He was sure she meant for her enthusiastic praise to be flattering, yet she seemed almost condescending when he was sitting right there. As if she didn’t trust him to speak for himself. She’d told her parents about the book he was reading and the jobs he’d done this week.

“Barb Echols told me at the grocery store that she just doesn’t know what she would have done without Gabe,” Arianne said. Then she turned and beamed at him as if she were a proud teacher and he was her most accomplished student.

The baby, who’d been sleeping in her bassinet in the next room, woke with a cry, and Rachel turned to ask her husband, “Will you go check on her? Please?”

“Or you could let Gabe do it.” Arianne volunteered him. “You should have seen him last weekend. He was a natural. You’d think he was around babies every day!”

He glared. “Actually, if it’s all the same to David, I was planning to finish my pork roast.”

The truth was, while he’d had some fun moments playing with Bailey, he hadn’t spent much time with babies and had found himself to be awkward and uncertain. Arianne knew that full well-she’d even called him on it. The way she was gushing now, embellishing the truth, made him feel as if she was overcompensating for some lack in his personality.

She’d told him repeatedly that if he made an effort with the people in this town, they’d like him. Apparently, if she didn’t think his effort was enough, she’d start networking on his behalf. I want a girlfriend, not a public relations agent! It had been one thing for her to nominate him-against his will-for the Man of the Year title and extol his virtues then, but he wished she wouldn’t lay it on so thick with her own family. Did she think he couldn’t win them over on his own merits?

When Susan stood at the end of dinner and announced brightly that she was getting everyone’s dessert-and that Arianne should come with her to help-Gabe wanted to cheer. The break would be nice. In fact, he was beginning to have a new appreciation for the merits of a long-distance relationship.

ARIANNE DUTIFULLY CROSSED to the cabinet and got out the dessert plates, but deep down she knew this wasn’t why her mother had summoned her into the privacy of the kitchen.

“All right.” Susan leaned against the kitchen island, making no move to slice the vanilla-glazed Bundt cake she’d made. “What is going on with you in there?”