CHAPTER TWELVE
Amanda turned on the Jeep’s windshield wipers, adjusting them to the lowest setting. She watched them move back and forth as they cleared off a dusting of tiny white flakes. Thankfully the snow was light, although judging from her ability to see her breath, the temperature had dropped quite a bit. She didn’t think Tate would mind her borrowing his car again.
The roads could be icy later. It had been years since she’d driven on black ice. She turned out of the driveway and waved to the cars that had pulled over to view her family’s lawn. A steady stream of residents would, no doubt, be paying a visit to her parents’ house throughout the evening. It was nice to be home.
It took her less than five minutes to drive the two miles to the trailer park Kristen Bailey lived in with her two daughters.
“That’s funny. I wonder where Dad is?” She didn’t see her father’s truck anywhere. It was six o’clock on the nose. “Did I miss him?” She parked the Jeep, walked up the rickety steps, and knocked on the trailer’s front porch door.
“Can I help you?” Kristen flung the door wide open. She was wearing a shimmering red sweater and black jeans. Her dark brown hair was pulled off her face. Tiny red and green ornament balls dangled from her earlobes.
“Hi, Kristen. It’s Amanda Turner. I was supposed to meet my dad here at six. Did he already stop by?”
“Amanda! Oh, my goodness. Of course. I didn’t recognize you. Come in, come in. Let’s get out of the cold.” She grabbed Amanda’s arm and ushered her into the trailer. “It’s so nice to see you. You look so different all grown up. So glamorous.”
“Thanks. It’s good to see you, too. Was my father already here?” She scanned the trailer, resting her eyes on the kitchen table in front of her. The table was set for four. No sign of her dad.
“He came here this morning.” Kristen pointed to the tree in the living room. “He delivered our tree with that handsome boyfriend of yours. What was his name again?”
“Tate.” Amanda glanced over at the fully decorated Douglas Fir. That was weird—not only had her dad already been there, so had the volunteers with the ornaments. Maybe they’d just forgotten the cookies. That must be why he asked her to stop by.
“That’s right. Tate. He made quite the impression on my little ones, especially Chloe. Look, she’s even set a place for him next to her.” Kristen motioned to the extra setting at the table.
“Oh, my gosh. I’m so sorry. I’ve interrupted your dinner,” Amanda said. “I should go.” She looked again at the empty plate. “Wait. Did Tate say he’d have dinner with you tonight?”
“Yes. I mean no . . . not really. Chloe invited him. I told her he probably wouldn’t be able to come back, but she insisted that we set a plate for him just in case.” She put her hand up toward her face, covering her mouth slightly. “I think she’s just a little star struck finding out he’s on TV and all.”
Amanda laughed, taking her hands out of her jacket pocket and loosening her scarf. The trailer was warm and smelled of spaghetti sauce and garlic bread. “He’s quite the celebrity, no doubt.” She glanced again at the tree. “Your Christmas tree looks beautiful.”
“That space in there would be empty if it weren’t for your family,” she replied.
A little girl darted into the kitchen. “Mommy, mommy. Is Tate here?” She was wearing a pretty red and green plaid dress. Her hair in a high ponytail with red velvet ribbons falling down each side. Upon seeing Amanda, she hid behind her mother, tugging on her sweater.
“No, no.” Kristen reached behind and gently coaxed her daughter from behind her back. “Tate can’t join us tonight, but this is his girlfriend, Amanda. Amanda is Mr. Turner’s daughter.”
Chloe let go of her mother and looked up at Amanda. “Hi,” she said softly.
Kristen winked. “She did this shy act with your sweetheart earlier, for about two seconds. “Chloe, why don’t you show Amanda the decorations you and Tate made for the tree?”
Chloe let go of her mother and ran into the living room. Amanda followed the little girl and knelt down next to the tree. She watched as Chloe reached out and touched a snowflake hanging at the very bottom. “He made this one for me. I wish he was here,” she said sadly, looking down at the carpet.
Amanda’s heart melted. She was certain that Tate had promised this little girl he’d have dinner with her. She reached over and touched the glittering piece of white construction paper. “What a beautiful snowflake. Tate made this?”
Chloe nodded. He said he’d bring me and my sister extra cookies for Santa Claus. Santa might stop by tonight and bring us gifts if he doesn’t run out of time like he always does.”
Amanda looked up at Kristen. She understood what Chloe meant.
“Chloe, go get your sister. Dinner is almost ready.” Kristen motioned her daughter to the front room. “Things were especially rough last year,” she explained.
Amanda nodded and returned to the kitchen. “May I join you in Tate’s place?” She pointed to the table.
Kristen nodded with excitement. “Absolutely! We’d love for you to stay for dinner. Do you like spaghetti?”
“I love it! Plus, a night where I don’t have to watch my carbs will do me some good.” She took off her coat, placed it behind her chair, and sat down. Chloe and Danielle dashed into the kitchen, taking their seats across from her.
“Miss Amanda, is joining us.” Kristen set a plate full of garlic bread on the table.
“Girls, I know I’m not Tate, but he sent me here to have dinner with you both and your mother. Would that be okay?”
Chloe stared at Amanda with big eyes. “Do you wanna say grace?”
“I would love to.” She turned to Kristen. “Are you sure this is okay?”
“Of course.” She set a huge plate of spaghetti in front of Amanda. “It’s not every day that we dine with a celebrity.”
Amanda laughed. “I’m hardly famous. Oh, you know what I forgot? Dad—I mean Tate, asked me to bring some extra cookies for Santa. I’ll just go get them out of the car so they don’t get hard in the cold. I’ll be right back.”
“Yay!” Chloe screamed out loud from her chair. “I told you he would bring more cookies for Santa, Mommy.”
Amanda headed out the door with her jacket. She wrapped her arms around her body to shield her from the cold.
Well, this was an unexpected turn of events. Why didn’t Tate tell her this was where he was going tonight? He certainly had made an impression on those little girls inside, especially Chloe. Something must have happened this morning that touched his heart.
She had an idea. Pulling out her phone from her pocket, she dialed her parents’ number.
“Brenda, hi! Is Tate still asleep?”
“I think so. He hasn’t been down.”
“Good. Just let him sleep. Listen, I know the message I’d like inscribed on the rock. ‘Christmas dinner.’”
“Christmas dinner?”
“Correct.”
“Can I spell it with an ‘X’?”
“That’s fine.”
“No problem then. I’ll start working on it right now.”
“Thanks, Brenda! I’ll be home soon.”
She clicked her phone off and walked back to the trailer. She thought about calling her father, but hesitated. She suspected he’d known what he was doing by sending her here, and she was exactly where she was supposed to be this evening.
Tate stared out the guest room window at the lights on the lawn and bit into a cookie. He was a little groggy from his nap, and his ankle still hurt. He watched the strangers below who had gathered to see the Turners’ holiday display.
Where was Amanda? He moved from the window and lay back down on the bed. She’d asked him if she was a better kisser than Melanie. He thought back to that freezing night twenty years ago and his first kiss . . .