Havoc for the Holidays (Home for the Holidays)

14. Ezechiel

Chapter fourteen

Ezechiel

M y mind was perpetually distracted by Ollie’s abrupt departure from the dress rehearsal as I mingled with the parents and students. His baked goods were a smashing success, but his name was on everyone’s tongue for different reasons that had me damn near seeing red. If I heard one more comment about his dance costume, I was liable to scream. If I “accidentally” overheard one more whisper about our relationship or the drama with the woman who was supposedly his daughter’s maternal grandmother, I was going to tear my hair out.

No wonder he had left so quickly. If I was hearing so much gossip, I could only imagine what he had heard. When I imagined what it must have been like for him over all these years, my heart sank. His shields were up with everyone. All I wanted at that moment was to hold them for him so he could relax. Unfortunately, I was stuck entertaining the townspeople and their friends and family in order to try and make my newly acquired studio and its first show under my direction a success.

After the twelfth well-intentioned congratulations on my barely-there relationship with a man who had fled the scene, I needed a break. I excused myself with a quiet thank you and escaped to my office for a chance to breathe. By and large, everyone meant well, but the amount of attention was overwhelming and frankly, a little invasive. We were supposed to be here to see the hard work the students had put into the show, not concentrate on the personal lives of others. Maybe I wasn't as prepared for small town life as I had originally thought I was.

In the sanctuary of my tiny office, I discovered the neatly folded stack of garments belonging to Ollie. I sighed softly and pulled out my phone. I'd promised to call later, but I couldn't not reach out. His distress gnawed at my chest more and more with every minute that passed. Hopefully, a simple text would help me and him both.

Ez: Did you make it home safe, love?

I waited for what felt like forever before I finally got a response. It was only five minutes, but worry made time do funny things.

Ollie: I did. 3

Ez: Good. Can I still call later? I want to hear your voice.

Ollie: ok. I'm sorry again. Leave it to me to ruin everything.

Ez: Olls, nothing is ruined. I'll call in a little bit, okay? Please believe me, nothing is ruined. 3

He read the message, but no reply came. Instead of feeling better, I felt worse. The fact that he blamed himself for so much didn't sit right with me, but there was very little I could do about it from here. I reluctantly pocketed my phone and took a deep, restorative breath before braving the crowd again.

Before I could get swept away by the townspeople again, Linc pulled me aside. Of all the faces, his was the friendliest in my experience. He clearly cared for my Ollie, so that made him a green flag in my book.

“Hey, good show tonight. I manned the bake sale table for you,” he murmured, discreetly tucking an envelope into my hand. “There were quite a few extra donations.”

“Thank you, Linc. I really appreciate this.” I secured the envelope in the waistband of my tights and readjusted the shirt to cover it. “Question… you don't have to answer but… this gossip situation—was it this bad when the news about Becs came out?”

He searched my face for a moment before responding to my question with one of his own. “Are you serious about this thing between you?”

I tilted my head, uncertain at first, before replying so emphatically it surprised us both. “Absolutely. One hundred percent. Without a doubt.”

“Good. He deserves that. Hell, he needs that.” Linc glanced around us and lowered his voice. “As to your question… it was worse.”

He jerked his chin and I followed his movement as we casually stepped further from the people still lingering around the studio. Once we had a decent buffer of space around us, he turned to me and continued in a whisper.

“You should hear this from him, but he won't say it, so I will. He can be displeased with me later. Let me preface this story with the fact that things have gotten a lot better here in Windhaven in the last couple of years, but it wasn't always this accepting.”

My brow furrowed slightly as I nodded for him to continue.

“When the news broke about Marissa and Oliver, it was a huge scandal. Everyone immediately vilified Ollie and his family. Marissa's parents were the worst of all. She tried to share the weight of it but the town had made up its mind. The gossip was bad. The snide comments and insults were worse.

“Honestly, I was impressed as a bystander by how strong they both were. Even more so when they agreed Ollie would raise her himself. Not an easy decision for a kid to make. Marissa ended up graduating with honors and went off to college on the West Coast. Ollie had to take summer classes and barely graduated with his class. We actually became friends after he graduated high school. Despite the whispers and scathing glances, he worked hard to give Becs an active social life and since I was a recently divorced single father with a daughter the same age, it just happened that we were at every event we could find.”

“But why is everyone still talking about it? Hasn't he proven himself? Didn't it work out for everyone?” I glanced toward the dwindling crowds and scowled to myself before schooling my expression. “And why the obsession over him and I?”

“Not everyone gossiped negatively, mind you. Most of these people here really are genuinely happy to see him succeed and find happiness. There's just a lot of locals who don't know when to keep their opinions to themselves. They blame him for Marissa’s family moving out of town. They likely also blame him for his parents’ early retirement to Florida.” Lincoln shrugged and exhaled a sigh. “People talk. It's what they do. It'll blow over again, resurface again. It's the nature of small towns. Hell, it's the nature of people in general.”

“Will he be all right? I didn't realize earlier that he was speaking with the grandmother of his daughter or I would have intervened.” I turned my gaze back to Lincoln’s face in time to catch his sour expression.

“She's got a grudge, for sure, but she won't be a problem. They've got themselves a great life alongside their daughter in California now. I think it's just being back here that has her stirring the pot again. Like I said, it'll die down again. It always does. Just be there for him if and when he wants to talk.” Linc settled a hand on my shoulder. “He's a good guy. If you really are as serious as you say you are about him, you've hit the jackpot. If not, well… you now have firsthand experience with the Windhaven rumor mill.”

He tried to look stern and threatening for a moment, but both of us dissolved into laughter over his attempt to warn me off messing up. His care for Ollie was endearing. On impulse, I pulled him into a hug and clapped his back with my palms.

“Thank you, Linc.”

“No problem. Good luck getting the rest of this crew out of here. You’ll be fortunate if you can make it happen before midnight.” He backpedaled partway across the room. “Give us a call if you need anything!”

I waved to him, extending a smile to his partner and two children as they materialized alongside him with their coats in hand. My anger was far less intense than it had been after our talk. Hopefully he was right in his predictions, for everyone’s sake but Ollie’s most of all. The gossip had to die down sooner or later.

By the time I was pulling into the long driveway lined with cheerfully decorated guest cottages, I was drained and morose. My head was a mess of worries and what-ifs, so when I neared my house and saw the lights still on in my mother’s, I impulsively veered off course and parked beside her vehicle instead of in my own spot. The headlights sliced across the front of the festively adorned farmhouse before I shut the engine off. The warm white glow of Christmas lights should have been comforting, but all I could think about was how much little Becs loved them.

With her maternal instinct in full swing, Mom met me at the door before I could even reach for the knob.

“Come inside, Ez. I was just putting the kettle on for hot cocoa.” She stepped aside with a small smile. “You look like you need a hot cocoa.”

“Y’know… I really do.” I toed my boots off and shed my coat as she shut the door and returned to the kitchen. I followed right behind her with a contented sigh. This might not have been my childhood home, but my mom lived here—that alone instantly imbued it with a sense of security and safety I hadn't realized I was craving.

“What's bugging you?” She glanced over her shoulder as the kettle filled. “You've been out of sorts for days now.”

“Everything. It's everything. The showcase, the studio finances, the move, Oll—”

“The root of the issue. Oliver. He's such a sweet man, isn't he?” She set the kettle on the base and flicked the switch to turn it on before turning toward me with a knowing grin. “You know as well as I do, the finances will work out fine, and the showcase will be perfection. So be honest with me; what's bugging you?”

“I'm worried about him.” I shrugged and slid into a chair at her kitchen table. “He's so shy and withdrawn and it makes sense now that I've seen how ruthless the rumor mill can be here.”

She gave a nod and cocked her head to the side. “You don't judge him for anything those crusty old local types are saying, right?”

My eye roll was so intense, it physically hurt. “Oh, ye of little faith. Of course not.”

“As I suspected.” She hummed to herself as she plucked the freshly boiled kettle from its base and carefully poured it into two mugs.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means you love him and the gossip has your sassy bitchy side coming out to play.” She fiddled with the canister of powdered cocoa mix as she resumed humming.

“I… what… Mom!” I fumbled over my words before scoffing. “You're nuts.”

“Please. I know you better than you know yourself.” She approached and slid the mugs onto the table before pulling a chair closer to sit in front of me and take my hands. “My Ezechiel, bold and brash and ready to take on the world—an award winning dancer and choreographer, a studio owner, and dance instructor is getting all worked up over some gossip that won't spread beyond this postage stamp of a town all because of a sweet young man who I've seen in our driveway more than a few times on the nights you aren't in his.”

I parted my lips to protest, but the words were extinguished with a huff. I squeezed her hands in mine before relenting. “I really do like him.”

“We’ll go with like if it makes you feel more comfortable.” She winked and lifted my hands, kissing the knuckles on each before letting go. “He's good for you. I always had a feeling you’d settle down one day. You always had impeccable taste, so I'm not the least bit surprised it was Oliver that finally caught your wild heart, my love.”

“He's not what I expected either.” I reached out and cradled my mug with both hands, letting the warmth and rich aroma ground me. “Which is why he's perfect. Is it too fast, though?”

“Who gets to decide too fast or too slow? Does it feel too fast for you ?” she countered with an arched brow.

“No… it feels effortless.” I examined the rich chocolate and blew softly to stir the steam into a swirl. “It just… happened.”

“Then it doesn't matter if it's too fast or too slow. It happened because it was meant to. Do you think he feels the same, or is that the problem?”

“The problem is that he's shy as hell and the stupid gossip mongers have him throwing up his shields again.”

She hummed softly and lifted her mug to her lips. “Then I guess you know exactly what you need to do, my bold and brash baby boy.”

I eyed her with a slow smirk and we both chuckled quietly. Leave it to my mother to make something impossible seem like the simplest thing in the world. I couldn't keep the grin from my face as she nodded, just once. Yeah, I knew exactly what I needed to do after all.