Besides the three kids determined to finish the poem, chaos erupted. Some were peeking into Santa’s bag, Santa was strutting around on the stage, the rescuers of the fireplace were giving each other high fives, and one kid was randomly dancing like no one was watching. The audience was howling with laughter as the three first-grade teachers took to the stage, trying to reestablish order.
It was tough holding the camera steady through her laughter. She glanced over at Nick. He was grinning at the whole display. Then he turned to her as the kids finally got back up on the risers and the volume in the room lessened. “What do you think? Should we head out for an after-program ice cream when this is over? I heard thatWith a Cherry on Topin Nestled Hollow is fantastic.”
She was getting better at allowing spontaneity into her schedule, but it still wasn’t easy. Studies had shown that kids thrived more on a predictable schedule, and she’d veered off her daily, weekly, and monthly schedules all season long. But a weekago, she would’ve said yes anyway, just because of the Season of Yes bet.
But today, that wasn’t her biggest worry. In fact, her mind was chock full of flat-out fears. She was afraid that she was making a wrong choice and that it would impact all four of them. But more than that, it felt like the choices weren’t even all up to her—she was a snowball rolling downhill, picking up size and speed as she went. She couldn’t steer or stop and had no choice but to go along with it. It was all out of her control. Saying yes to everything instead of following her trusty plans didn’t help.
“I don’t think we better,” she whispered back. “We’ve been so busy that Aiden hasn’t been getting enough sleep lately, and I don’t want him having trouble sleeping tonight, since tomorrow is a school day. And the last two days of school before Christmas break are so crazy—I don’t want to add to it.”
Nick nodded. “You’re right.” She didn’t miss the disappointed look on his face, though.
She probably had a disappointed look on her face, too. But as much as part of her wanted to say yes to Nick and not care about schedules, the other part of her was completely freaking out and she didn’t know how to make it stop. Or if she even should.
twelve
NICK
“Okay,”Nick said as he swiveled around in his office chair and reached for another box. “It sounds like the timeline after the break for the next release is doable.” This was his last meeting of the day, on the last day he had to work before he got a full week off for Christmas and New Year’s. Maybe with the time off, he’d be able to finally get the last box unpacked.
He had to admit, life was pretty great. He and Holly were settled in their own place again and he was working in his new office. It was good to have an actual space for work. He’d worked at the company office full-time before relocating to Mountain Springs, so transitioning to the folding table in the cramped guest room of his in-laws’ home had been tough. But it made him appreciate his new space even more.
Plus, Rachel was in his life. And Aiden was such a cool kid. Holly had her last day of school before the break two days ago, so she was spending the day with his in-laws to help them get ready for the annual Ugly Christmas Sweater party they put on every year. He would get Rachel and Aiden and head over as soon as he was off work.
“Who do we have lined up from the UX team to do the design and layout for it?” he asked as he sliced through the tape holding a box closed. He didn’t have to be on camera for this meeting. He didn’t even have to be at his computer for it. So he had been wearing his wireless headphones and mic so he could move around while unpacking and organizing his office.
It had been quite a few weeks since he’d packed most of these boxes, and he hadn’t thought to label them any more specifically than which room they belonged in. So the contents of each had been a surprise.
“I think it’s Andrus.”
“Okay, that’ll be good. And Mary is confident that we can implement the new features with the current system?”
He pulled out a couple of file folders that hadn’t made it into the box with the others that he’d already unpacked as Doug told him about which features the client wanted that would work out just fine and the one that they were still concerned about.
Then he reached in to grab an upside-down wooden box, turned it over, and his breath caught in his throat. It was a shadow box that Clara had made for him right after they’d gotten home from a vacation to the beach—the last vacation they’d taken. A photo was affixed right in the center of the three of them. Clara had her arms around his middle, and he had one arm over her shoulders and held a four-year-old Holly with his other arm. All three of them were grinning.
The rest of the display piece had memorabilia from the nearby museums they’d gone to, shells and colored glass they’d found on the beach, and smaller pictures of the sandcastle they’d built and of the three of them sitting at the edge of the beach where the waves came in, covering their legs. He remembered that vacation like it had just happened. They’d written messages in the sand, watched the sunset, ate lunch right on the beach, and daydreamed for hours.
All the memories came crashing in, just like the waves had, one right after another, and each came with a stab of missing Clara.
“Nick? You still there?”
Nick cleared his throat, trying to also clear out the emotion he was sure would come through loud and clear. “Can we finish discussing this after the break? I’m sorry—I’ve got to go.”
He ended the call, pulled off his headphones, and stared down at the picture, not even realizing that he had started crying until he felt the tears on his cheeks. Most of the time, he felt like he’d worked through his grief and was doing well. Sometimes he just missed Clara so much it hurt.
And sometimes, like right now, it felt like a wave had come in that was so large it completely submerged him in the ocean water, threatening to pull him out to sea. He ran a hand over his eyes blurred too much to see the picture of the three of them, looking so happy and so oblivious about what their near future held.
From nearly fourteen months of experience, he knew that it didn’t work to just push the emotions away when they hit—they were attached to a rubber band and they’d just come back fast and hit so much harder. So he let himself feel the grief of missing someone that he’d loved so much. He let himself cry. He let himself take in that emptiness inside as everything around it felt big and heavy and crushing.
When the tears finally slowed and his ragged breathing turned smooth yet shallow, his neck muscles still tensed from all the emotion they’d been attempting to hold, he started to wonder what in the world he was doing. Clara held so much of his heart. How could he have a relationship with Rachel when he couldn’t give her his full heart? It didn’t seem fair to her at all.
And how could he have a relationship with a woman whose cancer could relapse? What if he ever had to go through this again?
He tried to smile at Clara in the picture, but his lips immediately fell again. He sniffed and pressed the heel of his hand over one of his eyes. Then he whispered, “I don’t know how to do this, Clara. I know you want me to find someone new and love again, but I don’t know what I’m doing.”
Nick walkedup the sidewalk to his in-laws’ house with Rachel and Aiden. Holly must’ve been watching out for them because she opened the door before they even reached it. Welcome,” she said, throwing one arm wide, clearly pleased by all the party preparations she’d helped with.
Nick had texted Rachel and then his mother-in-law to let them know that he would be a little late, then he’d jumped in the shower and let the warm water wash away the tears and relax the sore muscles in his neck and shoulders. By the time he’d stepped out and wrapped a towel around his waist, he’d felt so much better. Not one hundred percent—that would take another day or so—but better enough to go to the Christmas party.
