Mistletoe Misses

Chapter 2

Maddox

T he antique iron bell, original to Nana’s bookstore, clangs to life above the century-old, wooden door as I step inside. I brace for impact—an ear-splitting squeal when she sees me and her body slamming against mine in an overdue hug.

Nothing happens, and I can’t stop disappointment from taking over.

The cash register, sitting unattended on the counter, has my law enforcement instincts stabbing at the backs of my eyes. Nothing in this place is secure. No cameras, no locks on cabinets, no staff. I walk past a row of bookshelves, my boots pounding on the wooden floors and echoing through the aisles.

Still no Nana.

As I make my way to the back, a cracked door and light coming from inside catch my attention, and I listen for voices and clues. Anyone could walk in here undetected as I did—an easy opportunity to take advantage of or hurt my sweet Nana.

“No, he didn’t,” a female voice says. “He sent a text.”

“I swear. Young people these days.” My muscles relax at the sound of Nana’s steady voice. She’s not being robbed or held hostage at least.

“I should get going. Thank you, Lily. I always enjoy our teatime.”

“Me, too, dear. See you next week.”

Next comes rustling noises, like they’re rising out of their seats. Excited to surprise her, I push open the door and lean on the doorframe, shoving my hands into my jean pockets.

Nana’s gray-blue eyes widen with wonder and glisten as a hand cups her mouth. Her long hair has a smattering of gray, especially at the edges, and it’s tied up into her usual soft bun. She’s thin under her faded Christmas sweater and matching slacks, but healthy, and I’m overwhelmed by her presence.

“Maddy?”

This nickname hits me differently and square in the gut. She’s the only one who calls me that, and it reminds me of some of my favorite childhood memories with her—baking or reading by her side, playing games in the backyard, holiday dinners, sleepovers, and everything in between. I didn’t realize I had a gaping hole in my chest from missing her until her hug filled it.

“I can’t believe you’re here.” Her fingers grip my shoulders as if she’s making sure I’m real. “Why?”

“That’s a story for another time.”

“And my cue,” the other woman says. Stepping closer, she stops beside me and smiles. Before I can figure out her motive for the pause, she rises to her tiptoes and kisses my cheek. “Welcome home, Maddox.”

I couldn’t have expected this stranger to kiss me, and my defensive reflexes are slow to react.

She hurries through the shop, and I wait for the bell to ring, indicating Nana and I are alone. “Who was that and why did she—” I’m too taken aback to finish the question.

Nana smirks as she points up.

The F-word forms on my tongue at yet another mistletoe sighting, but I think better of it given my current company. I can’t possibly detest the plant any more than I do right now. Reaching up, I snatch it and the makeshift hook along with it. Good. Maybe Nana won’t try to rehang it.

“That was Harper, the mayor’s granddaughter.” She waves me toward the two stools behind the counter, and winks over her shoulder. “She’s single.”

“And this concerns me in what way?” I know exactly what she’s getting at, and I’m the furthest from interested as I can get.

“Just sayin’.”

“Don’t ruin it. I’m still happy to see you.”

“Such a sweet boy, you are.” She pats me on the thigh as we both sit, her eyes taking in every inch of me in her normal grandmotherly observation. “Catch me up.”

Knowing I can’t avoid it, I recount what caused my visit and how much I hate it. The unsettling first sight of Carmen in nine years and sleepless night that followed will have to wait until I wrap my head around it … or never, preferably. I’m hoping it was a one and done, and I can forget it even happened. Our lives have taken separate and very different paths and mingling the two would be a horrible idea. I can’t trust myself not to say things I shouldn’t.

“Did your parents know you were coming?” Nana asks, wanting to scold whoever kept her out of the loop.

“No. I wasn’t sure how being here would go, so I thought surprising them was safer in case I changed my mind.”

“I’m glad you didn’t. We miss you.”

“I miss you all, too.”

“Tell me about Boston. Are you making friends, getting out, experiencing all that the big city life offers?”

My hesitation gives away the truth. Outside of work, I barely do more than keep myself alive each day.

“Maddox, you’ve got too much going for you to let your broken heart stay that way.”

When Carmen left all those years ago, Nana was the first person I went to for comfort. She lost her high school sweetheart and first husband to war several years after they married. Her second husband helped start this bookshop before he passed from a massive heart attack. The third, she lost over time to cancer. She loved each one as if they’d been her one and only, like her loss hadn’t almost killed her, too. She showed me each time how to survive, recover, and love again. I just couldn’t apply that knowledge when the grief happened to me. It took too much out of me to convince myself, no matter her trusted advice, that I wouldn’t feel broken forever. That Carmen wouldn’t be the only girl I’d love my entire life. And I’d been right.

“I’m not like you, Nana. I’m not good at letting people in.”

“You used to be. You were once so kind and generous with your love. It’s a special gift, Maddy. And you don’t have to be like anyone, sweetheart. You just have to try in your own way.” Her soft hand cups my cheek. “You know what I think?”

“I’m afraid to ask.”

Sitting back, she surveys me, and I’m not sure I want to hear whatever wisdom she’s about to deliver. “I think you coming here at this point in your life is happening for a reason.”

“Yeah? Why is that?”

“I have my ideas, but mainly because you need to reconnect with your roots—the place and people who made you who you are.”

“That guy doesn’t exist anymore, Nana.”

“Yes, he does. He just hasn’t seen the light of day for almost a decade.”

I roll my eyes. Sometimes I wish she didn’t know me so well.

“You locked away that sweet boy, and all you need to do is let him out and get to know him again.”

“And I suppose you’re going to help me do that?”

“Yes, sir.”

That answer gives me the sudden urge to flee and avoid the rest of this conversation, but my stand and fight training kicks in while I await her plan. No doubt she has one and it makes me gravely nervous. “How?”

“Don’t you worry about that. Just know your Nana has everything covered. By the time Christmas arrives, you’ll feel like a whole new man.”

“I’m not comfortable with this. Maybe I like my current man card.”

“You don’t, and no one said change is easy. But everything will work out the way it should if you do what I say.”

“Don’t I always?”

“You are a great listener.” The bell on the door chimes as a customer enters, and Nana rises. Before greeting them, she kisses my forehead and whispers, “That’s why you’re my favorite. Don’t tell your brothers and sisters.”

While Nana talks about flowers and gardens and searches for the best book to assist her customer with both, I stroll through the shop. It takes only two aisles to find a handful of red flags. Mom hadn’t exaggerated about the shop’s condition, after all. Broken floorboards, mildew piling up in the windowsills, water damage on the ceiling, cracked drywall, leaning bookshelves, the list goes on.

My biggest concern is the water leak. I don’t remember what’s above the store, but I know Nana owns the entire building. The side walls are connected to the General Store and boutique on either side, but each roof is separate. She’s probably neglected the old shingles since losing her husband. He took care of all the maintenance both here and at their home. If she’s neglected her pride and joy this way, I doubt I’ll handle seeing her house—my second home—look just as bad and not do something about it.

Then again, all these handyman jobs might be exactly what I need to keep busy while I’m here, especially since I have no idea how Nana plans to fix my life. I’m not the only one who has let important things fall to the wayside. Mom said she’s been stubborn about doing the necessary work at the shop and won’t accept help. That shit stops now because she won’t be given an option with me.

A door slams inside the room where I first found Nana. I check her reaction, and she doesn’t seem concerned about the noise or the quick footsteps pounding on the wooden floors behind me. I spin to catch them in the act but see no one. Following the noise, I creep along the bookshelves, my big frame making it wobble. I’ll fix that first thing in the morning after I get some tools. A fallen full bookshelf could injure someone or cause more damage.

Hearing some rustling ahead, I move closer and peek past the shelf’s end. It’s not a criminal—at least she doesn’t appear to be one. You never can tell these days. A little girl in green overalls atop a candy cane-striped shirt sits on the floor with a pile of books in her lap. Her baby doll blue eyes, near transparent in the sunlight, acknowledge my presence by giving me a once-over. Straight, blonde hair flows over her shoulders and onto the book pages she’s reading.

“What are you doing?” she asks like I’m the intruder.

“I was wondering the same about you.”

“I asked you first.”

I hold back my appreciation for her quick wit until I’ve assessed the situation further. “I’m visiting from out of town.”

“How do you know Nana?” She bats her eyelashes at me, all possessive and smug in her position here.

Who is she to call my Nana that? I gave her the nickname when I was four years old. Only family follows suit. “I rather you answer that question.”

“Do you always evade questions like this?”

Evade ? That’s a big word for such a little girl. “How old are you?”

She sighs, clearly determining I’m beneath her intellectually, and I’m beginning to think she’s right. There are some big books decorating the floor, and she’s dancing circles around this conversation. She raises a hand, pops up her forefinger with a white painted nail, and begins ticking off answers to my questions. “Reading. Nana’s been my friend for as long as I can remember. Eight. Your turn.”

The metaphorical hot-potato she tosses over to me catches me off guard. I try to remember thequestions she asked, but like Western movie actors pretending to duel, I’m drawing blanks.

“The answer is yes. Apparently, you evade questions because you keep people at a distance. I bet you’re a cop. No, military.” My face must have registered my astonishment because she corrects herself. “Both, huh? Double trouble in the emotions category. No wonder you’re single.”

Holy shit. I straighten, both offended and downright blown away by her intuition and say-it-like-it-is attitude. She reminds me of my little sister, Kendall.

“What’s your name?”

“Sadie. And who are you?”

“I was getting to it. Damn.” I can’t stop my flustered hand from shoving over my short hair. “I’m Maddox.”

She chuckles. “No, you’re not.”

“I’m not?”

“You’re not Maddox Henderson.”

My defenses activate like I’m eight years old again—but more caveman-style compared to her level at the same age. I lean on the bookshelves and cross my arms to keep from stomping my foot in protest of the disgust in her tone. “Why not?”

“Nana said you’re sweet.”

“I’m sweet.”

Her eyes roll back into her head before landing on her books again. “Don’t believe you.”

What the—

“How long are you staying in town?” she asks without so much as the courtesy of looking at me.

“Possibly a month, if I can stand it that long.”

Her eyes meet mine and hold there, considering my answer. “Okay,” she says, like she approves but at the same time doesn’t care.

“Okay?”

She answers with an apathetic shrug, then gives her full attention to the books. I’m standing there, frozen to the floor wondering what just happened. I got schooled and dismissed by a human the size of my leg—that’s what happened.

With my confidence successfully shaken, I head out, kissing Nana on the cheek along the way. If I could, I’d put young Sadie up against any suspect I’ve ever arrested. Five minutes in an interrogation room, and she’d crack them open and shake the confession out of them like a raw egg—that’s something I’m confident in.

I’m chuckling to myself at the vision of her sitting across a scuffed metal table from a hard, tatted up high school dropout, her feet swinging back and forth under the chair, when I run into someone on the sidewalk. Not ten feet from the bookshop and an hour into my visit, and the past is already slapping me in the face.

“So sorry about—Maddox.” Carmen’s father stares up at me as if he were seeing a ghost or someone reincarnated from the dead. The description isn’t far off.

“Hi, Mr. Bennett. I’m surprised you remember me.”

“It’s been a while, but I could never forget. You were good to my girl.”

The wounds Carmen left pulse and threaten to reopen. When she walked away, I didn’t only lose her, I lost her entire family. I’d grown up at her place as much as mine and Nana’s. Our families were neighbors and best friends. We spent every holiday, summer, and Sunday afternoon together until her absence added a canyon size hole to those activities. I couldn’t continue going about my life as if nothing changed. It hurt too much.

“We loved you like a son,” he says. “Still do.”

How is that possible? I hadn’t been kind to them when they reached out after Carmen and I broke up. I ignored the letters and care packages they sent while in the Army. I never asked about them when family called. As I did with Carmen, I erased them from my life to keep the sorrow and heartache from swallowing me whole and convinced myself that they hated me for it

“You look good. Strong.”

“Thank you.”

An awkward silence takes over, and he rocks back on his heels, the round leather bag he carries draws my attention.

“Going bowling?”

“I am. Every Thursday and Saturday.”

“Is your wife tending the store this afternoon?” I point over his shoulder toward the general store his family has owned for generations, thinking of all the times I spent there growing up.

“No,” he says quickly, then chuckles. “She’s substituting at the elementary school this week.”

“Oh. Please tell her I said hello.”

“Will do.” He doesn’t waver from his stance, almost like he’s guarding the entrance. “Where are you off to now?”

“I thought I’d surprise Mom at work.”

He checks his watch. “That’s perfect. She should be getting off soon.”

“She is?” It’s not even noon yet. “Why?”

“She’s getting ready for the baby.”

“Baby? What baby?”

“Sorry, son. I thought you knew.” He taps me on the arm, closing down the subject. “I’ll let her tell you all about it. Enjoy your visit, and I hope to see you at the Spectacular. It’s going to be a good one this year.”

I couldn’t focus on anything he said after baby . On my way to the truck, I review conversations I had with Nana, my parents, and my siblings. I may suck at staying in touch, especially over the phone, but how could I miss someone being pregnant?

It better not be Kendall’s. She’s only nineteen. Or worse yet, Aaron’s. My little brother can barely take care of himself in college with his studies, baseball schedule, and partying every minute he isn’t in class or on the field. Cooper, my oldest brother, would never have a kid before he was married, discharged from the Army, and stable as a civilian. Unlike Aaron who goes wherever the wind takes him, Cooper has a plan for everything. Mishaps happen, but between them, Aaron is the one I wouldn’t be surprised to hear had been loose in the responsibility department. Stupid, crazy kid.

Parking in front of the Ember Falls government building in central downtown, I jog through the front courtyard and up the tall flight of old stone stairs.

“Hi, Maddox.” A woman about my age waves from the reception desk as I walk up.

“Hi …” Using my investigative skills, I check the nameplate on her desk. “Rebecca.” Am I supposed to know her? I’ve been gone too long. “How are you?”

“Great. Barry proposed.” Her left arm shoots out to show me the large diamond on her hand, and I fight the urge to withdraw. Engagement rings and proposals rank high on my list of things I detest, right under mistletoe. And who the hell is Barry?

“That’s wonderful. Congratulations,” I force out before changing the subject. “Is Mom in?”

“Yes, sirree. Want me to call her?”

“No. Thanks. I’ll surprise her.”

“Oh, what fun.” She claps her hands together then checks the appointment schedule on her computer. “Good timing. She’s in a staff meeting, right now. Go make your grand entrance.”

Relying on my childhood memories and signage, I locate the Human Resources offices and walk right on inside—unlocked door, no one staffing the front desk, no bells, or security. What is it with this town? Crime happens everywhere—even small towns—and these people need to get it together.

Walking down the hall to the conference room and unsuspecting staff as any criminal could do, I slowly creep closer and peek inside. Mom is sitting at the head of the table in a festive white sweater, her auburn hair tied up into a youthful ponytail.

She reminds me of my sister when she was younger. Kendall wanted to dress and be like Mom in every way. After having three rowdy boys, Mom ate that shit up. They’d spend hours together trying new hairstyles or makeup while we boys played sports or got into messes outside. Whatever Mom did, Kendall shadowed her. She learned from the best how to be the unstoppable woman she is today. They’re both strong, fearless, and selfless with their love. Kendall just does it with more attitude.

Mom stands to write something on the whiteboard behind her, and I slip into the room. They’re planning for her absence, divvying up responsibilities and adjusting schedules, and I’m struck with curiosity again. Why does she need to take so much time off work?

A woman in a black Town of Ember Falls-logoed shirt notices me, and I silently plead with her to keep the secret. She grins, and I figure that means we’re accomplices now. Two more women at the table nod, promising to keep the heist and Mom’s oblivion intact.

The mission remains uncompromised until she turns back to address the group, catching me before I have a chance to duck behind something. My fellow SWAT team members would have ridden me for weeks on my lack of ingenuity. Good thing they’re not here.

“Maddox?” On the way to her mouth, her hand drops the marker.

“Hi, Mom.”

We embrace to a chorus of aww s, cheers, and applause, and it feels like I’ve won the lottery. Sunrays, sugar, rainbows, and all things soothing and beautiful pour into the dark cavity of my bland existence.

She backs away to say, “Meeting adjourned,” to her staff then brings me close again. “I can’t believe you’re here. Is it because of the shooting?”

With Mom working in Human Resources, she understands the complex investigative process that follows an officer-involved shooting. She releases me for the answer and to study me for any emotional stress. She worries incessantly about all five of her children, but I hear that’s a mom thing.

“I got a month off and couldn’t stay in Boston for that long not working.”

“And you thought to come home?” She shakes her head in wonder, matching my sentiments. “All I have to say is finally . I’ll have to send a thank you note to your superior.”

“Please don’t.”

“I’m only kidding, dear.”

“No, you’re not.”

Her guilty smile ruffles the peace I found in her arms only minutes ago. “Well, I won’t embarrass you … this time.”

Sitting in the pair of chairs in her bright, corner office, I settle in for another unsettling topic. “Mom, what’s going on? I ran into Wally, and he said you’re preparing for a baby.”

“You saw Wally?” She grimaces, assuming that would have been awkward for me, and she’s right.

“Yeah, but that’s not important.”

“Right. You know we continued fostering after you graduated, and we adopted Oliver and Opal soon after.” She continues following my confirming nod. “We had our hands full with twin toddlers but couldn’t say no when a child needed us.”

“Of course.” Not being here while the twins grew up is another regret I carry. We barely know each other—something I hope to correct while I’m here. “But why does this one feel different?”

“Because it is.” She lets out a long exhale, her hand pressing against her navel. “It’s Isabelle’s.”

“Isabelle Raine? Cooper’s Izzie?”

She grins at the title and nods. Although he’ll say Isabelle is his best friend, he’s secretly been in love with her since he figured out what that meant. Everyone knows it, except Izzie.

“She got mixed up with the wrong guy after college,” Mom explains, “and tried to disappear to protect her baby.”

My jaw clenches. “Don’t tell me some asshole laid a hand on her.” I consider Izzie another sister and would protect her with any means necessary, as I would all my family.

“Unfortunately, and he’s dangerous. He found her in Michigan where she moved with her parents after they retired. When she started showing, she came here to hide and have the baby.”

“Does she have a restraining order?”

“In Michigan, yes. We’re hoping that will stop him from searching for her or assume she wouldn’t come back to Ember Falls since her parents are in Michigan. She just needs to keep the baby a secret until he moves on.”

“Cooper and I can make sure that happens.”

“Maddox …”

I wave off her concern. We’re soldiers and have dealt with far worse things than an arrogant prick who likes to beat up defenseless women. “How can she hide the baby?”

“We’ll pretend to foster it from an out-of-town family and hire her as a nanny.”

“Good. With us all working together, we can keep them both safe.”

“Our thoughts, exactly. The P.D. and everyone in town who needs to know is in on it.” She grins at me. “It’s great to have you home where you belong.”

“I don’t know if that’s true anymore.”

“Of course, it is. You always have a home here, Maddox. And thank you for wanting to help.”

“That’s what I’ve been trained to do.”

“No. It’s who you are.”

I don’t know who I am these days, but I stop myself from disagreeing with her. It would only prolong the uncomfortable topic.

“You’re staying with us, aren’t you?” she asks.

I hadn’t thought past throwing clothes in a bag to come here. That took all I had to give at the time. “I’m not sure. Aren’t all the bedrooms taken with the twins and Izzie?”

“We’ll figure it out. I will not have my son staying somewhere other than his home. I was being polite when I asked.”

I stifle a groan. “In that case, I guess I’m moving in today.”

She fakes surprise, earning her an eye roll. “Oh, that’s wonderful, son.”