Puppy Love for Christmas

Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Not even thirty minutes after Christopher had explained what transpired during the call that the company plane had been prepared and waiting for him on the tarmac. Andrew produced a travel bag filled with his things from somewhere. When he questioned his assistant about it, all Andrew said was it didn’t hurt to be prepared. Christopher had been too worried about his father’s condition to press his assistant further.

His mother had been vague on the phone. It exacerbated Christopher’s imagination, making the flight from San Francisco to New York a nail biter. He could barely sit still. Upon landing, a car was already waiting for him with a driver. He ditched the driver and opted to make the four-hour trek to Trevor himself. No need for GPS. He knew the way like a carrier pigeon knew how to fly home.

Driving gave him something to do. Took his mind off his father and his failing health if he understood his mother correctly. She had been speaking too fast. The picturesque views were not lost on him despite his worry. San Francisco was beautiful, but there was something about driving through upstate New York that put you into another world. The foliage alone was worth the trip. Most of the trees still had their leaves so late into the season.

The second he passed the sign welcoming him into Trevor, Christopher’s heartbeat picked up. Whether it be from excitement of being home or dread, he had no clue. He knew what happened to the children of Trevor who refused to come home. There weren’t very many. But, just in case, he skirted the town square and drove straight toward the house he grew up in.

A multitude of Christmas ornaments decorated the large front lawn. The plastic snowman that was even older than he was already waved and smiled at him. He parked the car and got out, breathing in the air scented with pine and the Atlantic. The scent of his childhood. Memories of walks along the shoreline with his trusty Golden Retriever, Einstein, came flooding back. He missed that dog so much. Christopher couldn’t bear getting another dog after losing Einstein to old age.

The two-story house, with its white columns and arched windows, still looked the same. Yet, after sixteen years away, the place seemed smaller. Eager to get inside, he rounded the car and hurried up the walkway.

As if keeping an eye out for him, his mother rushed out to meet him. She opened her arms wide and engulfed him in the warmest embrace. He breathed in deeply, taking in the scent of her Chanel perfume and cinnamon.

“You’ve been baking,” he said into her wild, blond hair.

“Just trying to keep busy,” was her response. Christopher had been about to step back to get a better look at her, but her arms tightened around him. She whispered, “Don’t let go. Not just yet.”

He hugged her even tighter. In his heart of hearts, he acknowledged the feeling that no matter how old he got he would still welcome the affections of his mother. Why had he stayed away for so long? It wasn’t like he had been running away from terrible things. In fact, his childhood had been idyllic. Some might even call growing up in Trevor perfect. That was why a majority of the children always made it a point to come back despite their lives taking them beyond the town’s borders.

Finally, his mother released him. She stepped back and took his face in both her hands. There were unshed tears in her eyes.

“I missed you so, so much,” she said.

The familiar line brought a smile to his face and an ache in his chest. His parents travelled a lot for work and whenever they came home his mother would always say that line and his response would be, “To the moon and back,” to quote his favorite children’s book.

Christopher said the line and kissed her on the forehead. Then he said, “I’m sorry it took me so long to visit. How is Dad?”

She frowned. “He opted to stay home instead of at the hospital.”

His brow wrinkled. “I don’t like the sound of that. Why only tell me now?”

“He’s in the bedroom waiting for you. I will take care of your bag. I assume you’re staying?”

“For as long as it takes.” He turned to go, but a hand on his forearm made him pause.

“Give me your phone,” his mother said.

What an odd request. It prompted him to ask, “Why?”

“It might interfere with the sensitive equipment upstairs.”

It made sense. In hospitals cellphones weren’t allowed. He handed over the device, renewed dread spreading through him. Not waiting a second longer, he passed the giant wooden nutcracker dolls standing guard at the open front door and took the steps up the grand staircase to the second floor two at a time.

He didn’t slow until he reached the double doors of his parents’ bedroom. Unable to catch his breath, he paused. His hand reached for the knob and stayed there, unmoving. He concentrated on his breathing. Once he had calmed himself enough—still unprepared for what he would encounter inside—he twisted the knob and pushed inside.

The curtains were drawn, giving the room a gloom. A lamp beside the massive fourposter bed was the only illumination. His gaze went to the bed. It was empty. His heart stopped. Then his brain kicked into overdrive. Where was his father? Where were all the equipment his mother said was up here? Not a beep could be heard.

“Dad?” he said, edging closer to the center of the room.

“Took you long enough,” said a gruff voice.

Christopher jumped back. “Dad!” His heart felt like it was going to punch a whole out of his chest. “Are you alright?”

His father sat on one of the reading chairs by the unlit fireplace. He cast an imposing figure in shadow.

“What’s going on here?” Christopher blurted out, trying to catch his breath for a whole different reason.

“I think your mother and I went a little overboard with this plan. Can you open the lights? I’ve been sitting here in the dark for almost an hour.”

On shaky legs, Christopher inched his way to the wall. He flipped the switch and the room as immediately engulfed with light. He had to blink several times so his vision could adjust. When it finally did, he got a better look at his father. He frowned.

“You’re not sick,” he said. “In fact, I think you’re healthier than I am after the near heart attack you just gave me.”

“As fit as a fiddle.” The man who resembled a Norse God on a good day pushed to his feet and thumped his chest. Despite some gray in his hair and some lines around the eyes, he was just as Christopher had remembered him.

“Then why . . .” Christopher couldn’t finish his sentence. His mind was still playing catch up.

“How else could your mom and I get you here?”

“What?”

“Son, you haven’t been back since you left. Your mother and I miss you. For once we’d like to spend Christmas as a family again. Even when we travelled we always made sure to be home on the most important of days.”

That had been true. Christopher never spent a Christmas or a Thanksgiving without his parents. Even his birthdays accounted for. And even when his parents were gone, he had a hotel full of staff that were pretty much his second family.

“That’s such a low blow!” he said, his voice raising. “You didn’t have to lie to me just to get me home.”

His father crossed his burly arms across an equally burly chest. “Because all the emails begging you to come home were working? You hardly answer phone calls. If your assistant hadn’t suggested—”

“Andrew was in on this?” He should have known.

“What does it matter who conspired to get you here? You’re home. That is what matters.”

“Smart having mom take my phone. I need it back, by the way.”

His father shook his head. “You’re not getting that thing back until we are sure you’re ready to use it for things other than work.”

“Dad,” Christopher said, exasperated. “I can’t just leave—”

“Andrew assured us that you have nothing pressing on the agenda. In fact, everyone who is anyone at your company agreed you needed a break. Consider this your break.”

“I can just drive out of here, you know that, right?”

“I didn’t raise you to break your mother’s heart. It’s Christmas, Christopher.”

His name spoken in his father’s voice never failed to make him feel like a child again. He was never a disobedient boy. Often caught up in his studies, but never wild and prone to mischief. An exciting night for him was figuring out a new algorithm.

Still, what they had done was beneath them. He was sure his father was on the brink of death not a moment ago. It was just all too much. Unwilling to get into a futile fight with his father who he hadn’t seen in so long, Christopher turned on his heel and strode out of the room.

“Chris?” his mother said as he passed her after he had descended the stairs. “Where are you going?”

“Out for a walk!” he declared.

“Will you be back for dinner?”

“Yes!” He was mad, but like his father had said, he wasn’t doing anything that would upset his mother more than staying away for so long already had. He closed the door behind him and stuffed his hands in his pockets. With ground eating strides, he let his feet do the navigating for him. His brain couldn’t be trusted at the moment.

***

The snow was late. They had a tiny sprinkling over Thanksgiving—no more than ten inches—but that was it. Sabrina smiled, hugging her hot chocolate closer, as she passed the mayor of Trevor gesticulating wildly and exclaiming how the lack of snow would affect the festival. His impressive mustache curls twitched with every word he spoke. Tourists came for a winter wonderland and a winter wonderland they should get.

Their little town of two thousand was known for two things. The first being that they were a resort town in the summer with the Wakefield Hotel as the jewel of the experience. The second was the Christmas by the Sea festival. Since the article that came out in Town and Country five years ago, Christmas went on steroids in their town. But without snow? What an utter disaster. At least everyone in the mayor’s inner circle thought so. Canceling because of a snowstorm was preferable.

On the other hand, the lack of snow was worrying, not only for the festival’s sake but for the environment’s too. Upstate New York was usually one of the first places in the country to experience the sprinkling of white from the sky every year.

Sabrina pushed away thoughts of starving polar bears—vowing to bring more attention to the problem with every year she got older—and concentrated on her hot chocolate. It was one of her single pleasures during the holidays. Tiffany at Bake My Day made it special every year with cocoa imported directly from the best beans in Brazil. Sabrina paused in her walk along the town square to take a sip. She sighed in pure ecstasy as the rich warm blend teased her tongue and glided smoothly down her throat. There was something so sensual about the experience. Especially when the chocolate was enhanced by a generous helping of peppermint—the best flavor in the world next to caramel in her book. If it wasn’t for her love of saving animals, peppermint would be at the top of her list of favorites.

Speaking of animals, she was expected at the Animal Sanctuary soon. She had already been there if it wasn’t for her hot chocolate addiction. After taking one more sip, she continued her walk, taking in the shops already decked in the most festive Christmas decorations. That year’s color scheme was red and gold. The holistic therapy shop showcased this by creating garlands made purely of painted red and gold pine cones. Sabrina nodded in approval. The flower shop next door featured potted poinsettias, bundles of holly, and wreaths beautifully decorated with golden glitter and shimmering Christmas balls. The bookstore at the corner featured a miniature version of the town as their window display.

Sabrina practically pressed her nose against the glass in awe. One corner featured the cliff where the Wakefield sprawled. Even at a smaller scale, the artist captured the grandeur of the hotel and its balconies that overlooked the Atlantic. They were the best feature, which made the rooms attached to them the most coveted. The Point Peak Lighthouse adjacent to the hotel was just as beautifully done. Down the road were the docks with their colorful lobster boats and the Lobster Shack where all the fishermen gathered to eat and tell their stories of the sea. The place made the best fish and chips in the whole of Trevor, and that was no exaggeration—they had a first-place trophy at the end of the bar to prove it.

Her eyes jumped from one familiar place to the next. The restaurant with its wrap around porch. Bake My Day was there—a tiny version of Tiffany holding a tray of cookies stood outside. And the best place—in Sabrina’s estimation—was the Animal Sanctuary. The artist even got the sign right, a dog with its tongue lolling out on one side and a cat lifting its paw as if in welcome at the other.

“I always love seeing this display,” a familiar male voice said.

Sabrina jumped, almost dropping her cup. She should have known the mittens weren’t a great idea, but they were so cute and went with her beanie. Fortunately for her and the white sweater she had decided on that day, her grip remained true. So, caught up was she in examining the town that she hadn’t realized someone was already standing next to her until that person had spoken. She should really be more aware of her surroundings.

“Are you alright?” the voice said, accompanied by a hand outstretched as if to prevent a fall.

She glanced up to see the eyeglasses first. Black frames that sat atop a straight nose. The hazel eyes behind the lenses were like glass. Then, like a camera’s lens widening, her vision took in the boyish face that went with the glasses. He had always been too cute for his own good. The smile on his lips was bright and open, always welcoming. That smile alone told the world there wasn’t a mean bone in its owner’s body.

“Chris?” she blurted out when her brain finally fully registered who was standing in front of her.

“Last I checked,” he said with a chuckle. He pulled back his offered hand. She wasn’t falling down any time soon.

“You’re back?” Her mind made a mental check list. When had been the last time she’d seen him? The night they almost got caught stealing puppies at the mall.

He nodded. “Just for the holidays.”

“That doesn’t explain much.”

“Oh, right. What I mean is my parents staged this elaborate plan of pretending my father was sick just to get me to come home,” he said, a blush running along his cheekbones. “Normally, I’d be too busy.”

“Sound just about right.”

Again, he nodded. “I was pissed at first, but after a couple of miles, I cooled down enough to realize I should have come home sooner. It’s been a while.”

“Yeah, if you call sixteen years a while.” Why was she being snippy? She should be happy Chris was back. His parents missed him terribly according to her mom. He deserved a better welcome. She took a deep breath and fixed her tone. “When did you get back?”

“Just now,” he said. He still had his dark hair combed to the side and gelled into submission. He was taller, she had to tilt her head just to maintain eye contact, but the way he dressed still remained the same. A jacket over a sweater vest, a button down, and slacks.

“Are you staying at their place or at the hotel?” she asked after the thought hit her.

“I haven’t decided yet.”

Because of the success of the Wakefield, Chris’ parents gained a reputation for excellence. They travelled the world visiting boutique hotels and resorts, consulting. There wasn’t a hotel that they helped that didn’t improve after they left. Their advice was golden and fool was the person who didn’t heed. But that meant leaving their son in the care of others. It didn’t seem so bad when Chris had an entire hotel as his playground. Everyone who worked at the Wakefield was family to him. In fact, her mom was his surrogate for most of the year when they were growing up.

“What they did wasn’t right,” Sabrina declared. “You can stay at the hotel.” Then she caught herself. What was she thinking imposing her thoughts on someone who was basically a stranger now? A potentially hot stranger, but still. “But, of course, they are still your parents. You should stay with them. I’m sure they missed you.”

Chris sighed. “You’re right. Plus, I’m sure the hotel is booked solid already because of the festival.”

“Your family’s suite is always available in case you change your mind.”

The dark wing of his eyebrow arched above the frame of his glasses. “Why do you suddenly want me at the hotel so badly?”

Her lips puckered like she had sucked on a lemon. “I’m just giving you options. You know, just in case.”

“I’m a big boy. I think I can handle my parents.”

That he was. Were those lean muscles underneath the layers of clothing? The jacket, shirt, and sweater vest combo made it hard to tell. All Sabrina knew was Chris didn’t look as skinny as he used to be. He filled out in all the good places. Oh, what was she thinking? Blame it on the holidays and the fact that she was single.

“Fine,” she said, pushing down all inappropriate thoughts toward the guy she had grown up with yet barely knew.

“I’ll make sure to visit your mom.” He smiled. Was that a sparkle of amusement in his eyes?

Get a grip, Sabrina, she admonished.

Chris tilted his face up to the blue sky and inhaled. “The snow’s late.”

The change of topic sent much needed relief down Sabrina’s stiff spine. “Mayor Stanley is freaking out.”

“I’m sure he is.” He chuckled but sobered just as quickly. “That’s global warming for you.”

“Did you read that article about the polar bears?”

This time his nod was grim. “Makes my blood boil. And all I can think of is, couldn’t the photographer feed the bear?”

“Exactly! If I were there I would already be leaving fresh meat for the poor thing.”

“That you would.”

The conviction in his words warmed her cheeks. “There’s only so much I can do from here. I wish I could do more.”

“I’m pretty sure you already have that handled, notorious puppy thief that you are.”

She shook her head in amusement. The memory of that night was still as vivid as the night she’d made it. “I’d like to think of myself as crusader for animal rights.”

“I’m afraid to ask . . .” He paused, letting his sentence trail off.

“What?” She tilted her head, genuinely curious.

“Is there a warrant out for our arrest that I have to worry about? The last thing I need is to spend my holidays back in town in jail. I was really hoping to participate in the festival.”

Laughter climbed from her chest up her throat and floated out of her lips.

“What’s so funny?” Chris stuffed his hands into the pockets of his coat. There might not be a snow flake in the air but the chill was still typical for their area. Their breaths were visible with each exhale.

Sabrina let the laughter fade away, feeling a whole lot better, before she said, “I already took care of all that.”

“You mean there really was a warrant?” His eyes were so wide they almost encompassed the entire frame of his glasses.

“Of course, but I insisted that I acted alone.”

“Sabrina.” Chris grew serious in a way that made her uncomfortable. “You didn’t have to do that.”

She waved his concern away. “Don’t worry about it.”

He turned around and started walking.

“Where are you going?” She hurried after him.

“To Sheriff Samson,” he said, determination in each word. In each step. In every cell in his body. “I assume he’s still sheriff around here.”

Sabrina grabbed his arm and pulled him to a stop. “Chris, don’t. Sheriff Samson retired last year.”

“Then I’ll go to the new guy, whoever he is.”

“That would be Billy Connolly.”

Chris paused. “Billy? Really?”

“He’s not the hellion we all know anymore.” But he was still a legend around Trevor for causing the most mischief in one town.

“Do you distract me. You know as well as I do that you weren’t the only one there that night,” Chris insisted.

“I know that, but I dragged you into it.”

“Still, I was an accomplice.”

She tightened her grip when she felt him start to pull away. “There’s nothing you can do. Since I was a minor without any priors, I got away with community service and probation. It’s done, Chris.”

“Doesn’t make it right.”

“You can’t be madder than I am about this. I’ve completed the service. The probation was lifted a couple of years later. I’m actually glad it went down the way it did.”

“What are you saying?”

Those hazel eyes pinned her in place. She didn’t back down. “It taught me that there were other ways to help and make the world better. I tracked down the puppy mill that supplied the pet store and reported it. That horrid place was shut down and all the dogs were saved.”

Chris took a deep breath and, on the exhale, Sabrina felt him relax. Only then did she let go of his arm, which certainly felt firmer underneath her grip. Then a new kind of determination entered Chris’ gaze.

“You have to let me make it up to you,” he said. He lifted his hand, halting her protest. “I’m not budging on this. Or else I’m going to the station. Surely the statute of limitations of puppy theft hasn’t lapsed.”

She shut her mouth. The one thing she did know about Chris was when he decided on something there was no stopping him. The easiest recourse was to go along with it.

“Okay.” She left out a smoky breath. “I have a couple of things going on for the festival. You can lend a hand, especially at the shelter.”

He extended his hand. She stared at the lines of his palm for a second before she realized he wanted her to finalize the deal with a shake. She bit the tip of her mitten and tugged it off. Then she clasped the offered hand into a firm handshake.

“It’s settled then,” he said.

But from the set of his shoulders, it still didn’t seem like Chris was back to his old self. So, Sabrina did the only thing she could do. She offered up her cup.

“Is that from Bake My Day?” he asked, recognizing the mistletoe design on the sleeve wrapped around the red cup.

“Best hot chocolate in town.” Her smile was big and bright. “Take a sip, you’ll feel so much better.”