CHAPTER TWELVE
“Merry Christmas,” Celeste greeted hesitantly.
She said it as if they were still the best of friends. As if when Lindy had learned the truth about her and Brian, it had been nothing more than a friendly exchange of insignificant differences. Billy had been with her when she’d run into them at Leavenworth. Having him at her side had given her confidence.
Lindy remained silent. She would have spoken, if she’d been able to find the words, but none came.
Pretending not to notice, Celeste continued, as if Lindy had welcomed the sound of her voice. “Are you with your family?”
“Yes,” she somehow managed…She remembered the pastor’s sermon from last Sunday. Forgiveness had been the theme. Lindy had walked out of the service and felt free, as though a huge burden had been lifted from her shoulders. Now that she was speaking to the friend who had betrayed her, she wasn’t sure how she should react.
“Yeah, me, too,” Celeste continued. “Christmas is for families, right?”
“Right.” Lindy noticed she didn’t mention Brian. She wouldn’t ask, though.
“Brian is with his mother,” Celeste continued, as if she felt it was necessary to let Lindy know.
That made sense, since Brian’s parents had divorced when he was in high school and his mother lived alone. Brian chose to champion his mother and refused to reconcile with his father. From what he’d told her, he hadn’t had any contact with his dad in years.
Lindy wasn’t sure what more she could say, other than to ask why Celeste had called, especially this late at night. “I’m not sure why you phoned,” Lindy said. It had to be more than to tell Lindy that she and Brian weren’t together for Christmas.
The awkward silence that followed made Lindy uncomfortable. Celeste had been her best friend for ten years. They’d shared confidences, clothes, had been roommates, and as close as sisters. It was one thing to lose Brian, probably inevitable, in hindsight. The bigger loss was Celeste. In her view, a best friend was much harder to replace.
“Brian and I were surprised when we saw you in Leavenworth. I wanted to say more then, I really did, only I didn’t know what.”
Lindy understood, as she’d been shocked when she first caught sight of them as well. She’d had time during the sleigh ride to recover. Celeste had been taken completely by surprise and was speechless.
“You looked great, and the guy you were with was a hunk.”
“I knew Billy when I was in grade school,” Lindy said.
“You looked happy.”
“I am happy,” she said with all sincerity.
“I’m glad. That makes me feel better.”
“Listen, Celeste, I don’t know why you called, but I’m grateful you did.”
“You are?” She sounded unsure, apprehensive, as if expecting a tongue-lashing.
“Yes, because I want you and Brian to know you deeply wounded me. I carried that hurt with me like an aching sore until I realized the only way to heal that pain was to forgive you both and move on. That’s what I’m doing. I wish you and Brian the best, and I sincerely mean that. So Merry Christmas, Celeste. And thank you for calling.”
“Wait…” Celeste pleaded. “It’s taken half a bottle of wine for me to find the courage to call you. Please let me say this one thing.”
Although Lindy was anxious to get off the phone, she agreed. “Okay.”
“I’m so sorry, Lindy. I should have told you about Brian and me. I meant to, I sincerely did. I hated the way you found out we were together. We should have told you long before you stopped off at the apartment.”
Celeste clearly had no idea of what a shock it had been to find the two of them together. “Listen, if you’re looking for absolution, you have it. Life goes on. I should have realized sooner what was happening.” As painful as it was to admit, that was the truth. “It was right in front of my eyes, and I couldn’t see it.” In the aftermath of her discovery, Lindy wanted to kick herself for being so blind and trusting. She was foolish to ignore what should have been obvious.
“I…don’t deserve your forgiveness,” Celeste said.
“I did it for myself. The anger wasn’t doing me any good.” It was clear Celeste was dealing with a massive bout of guilt.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry, Lindy. Really, really sorry.”
Lindy believed her regret was real. How good it felt to tell Celeste that she was forgiven and to mean it. “I accept your apology. Now it’s time to move on.”
“One more thing,” Celeste rushed to add. “I need to say one more thing before we hang up.”
“Okay.”
“You’re the best friend I ever had, and I mean that with all my heart. I realize our friendship will never be the same, and I accept the blame for that. But I hope someday in the future that we might be able to reconnect.”
“Time will tell.” Lindy said.
“Time is a great healer, right? I mean, that’s something my mother always says. And, Lindy, I want you to know something. You’re talented and smart, and whatever you do will be a success.”
“Thank you,” Lindy said, feeling lighter than she had in a long while.
“Okay,” Celeste said. “I’ve said everything I wanted to tell you. Bye, Lindy.”
“Bye, Celeste.”
The house was quiet when Lindy went inside. Her parents had already gone to bed. Her head was reeling from the conversation with Celeste. She doubted she’d be able to sleep. She headed into her room and readied for bed, dressing in her flannel pj’s, unaccustomed to these bitterly cold nights. Fluffing the pillow, she sat up and reached for her phone, scrolling through Facebook and then playing a few online games. She’d crushed Candy Crush and had moved on to another game, realizing that all she was doing was killing time until she was too tired to function any longer. On a whim she sent Peggy a text.
You awake?
When her friend didn’t respond, Lindy figured Peggy was dead to the world, and rightly so. It was after one. Anyone with a working brain was asleep by this time of night. Unless Billy was still up. She hesitated, and then sent him a text on the off chance he was still awake.
You home yet?
Yes. What’s up?
I miss you. She shouldn’t have admitted that, but before she could rebuke herself, her phone rang.
It was Billy.
“You’re awake? I thought you’d be home and asleep long before now,” he said.
“Yeah, me, too.”
Her voice must have alerted him to the fact that she was troubled, because he asked, “What’s on your mind?”
She regretted disturbing him, especially when she knew how many hours he’d been up dealing with the assorted problems that were all part of owning and operating a restaurant. “You’re tired. We can talk about it later.”
“Let’s talk about it now,” he said, encouraging her in that gentle way of his. As exhausted as he was, he sought to comfort her. She couldn’t do that. Not after the day he’d had.
“I should never have—”
“Lindy!”
Seeing that she was the one who’d reached out, Billy wasn’t going to listen to any excuses. The truth was that she needed a willing ear and so, as briefly as possible, she relayed her conversation with Celeste.
“Sounds to me like your friend is dealing with some major regrets.”
“It felt good to tell her I’d forgiven her and Brian, freeing somehow. And I meant it, Billy.” She was grateful for the chance to let Celeste know she’d moved on. Forgiveness was one thing, reconciliation was another.
“Do you think the reason she reached out is because she saw you and me on Wednesday?” he asked.
“She mentioned seeing us.” Lindy left out the part about finding Billy handsome.
“Did she happen to see the kiss? Bet that blew her mind.”
Lindy didn’t know what Celeste had seen or not seen. If any mind was blown, it’d been hers. She wasn’t mentioning that, either. “It’s a possibility. I don’t know what she saw; she didn’t mention it if she did.”
“I thought wanting them to see us was the reason you asked me to kiss you?”
Remembering that kiss made Lindy smile. “As I recall, you weren’t overly pleased that I’d blatantly used you.”
“True, but that kiss. I have to tell you, Lindy, it shook my world.”
“It shook my world, too.” A warm sensation washed over her. “Every kiss since then has done the same.” Again, she shouldn’t be telling Billy this, especially when she’d resolved this was a holiday romance. The fact of the matter was that there was little choice what she would do in the future. She had a signed lease. Her livelihood was in Seattle. And more important, Lindy had a lot to prove to herself and Media Blast. Moving back to Wenatchee after being betrayed by her best friend and Brian, leaving the job she had trained for and emotionally invested in, would feel like she was somehow giving in and admitting defeat. Moving back to Wenatchee would look like she was coming home with her tail between her legs…especially when she felt, deep down, that success was around the corner. She couldn’t do that. Wouldn’t.
“You’ve grown quiet. What are you thinking?”
“That I should let you get to bed.”
“Lindy?”
“Yes?”
“It’s late. I’m exhausted and probably shouldn’t ask you this.” He hesitated, as if even now he was weighing his words.
“Ask me,” she said softly.
When he spoke, his voice was so low she had to strain to hear him. “Stay.”
“Stay?” she repeated, hoping she’d heard wrong.
“I don’t want you to go back to Seattle. I feel like we have the start of something that has real potential. I hate to see it end.”