Mix-Up under the Mistletoe (Glenbriar #11)

Chapter Eighteen

Tilly

A plate of toast landed on the kitchen table in front of Tilly. She glanced up at Hilary and smiled, glad for the chance to switch her focus away from Rafe. Not because she didn’t like what she saw. God no, she loved it… Literally. How could she not? Her clingy issues were going through the roof since they’d been together. But the look he was giving her was too probing, and she had no way of replying.

‘Thank you so much. For everything,’ she said to Hilary.

‘You’re quite welcome,’ Hilary said. ‘It’s been lovely having you here. I feel like you’re part of the family.’ She gave Tilly a gentle pat on the shoulder.

‘Thanks.’ Tilly bit into her toast to stop any emotions spilling out in the form of tears. She caught Rafe’s eye again and his lip quirked. But it wasn’t anything like the way he’d looked at her last night or that morning. The intensity had dulled, and his gaze held more questions than answers. Perhaps he was wondering if she’d heard him say he was happy on his own, and they were just two strangers enjoying a few hours in each other’s company. She had heard, and the words didn’t surprise her, but they saddened her a little. It also cleared things up in her mind though, and that was good. Now she knew how he felt it was easier to adapt her behaviour. She wouldn’t cling to him, but accept this weekend was just that – a weekend. The deep gash in her chest that had temporarily filled with what she’d mistaken for love would heal over again. Infatuation wasn’t love, just a phase. Sex was just a physical release, not a bonding session, no matter how close she’d felt to him in those ecstatic moments. Normal people who didn’t have attachment issues wouldn’t be stupid enough to think Rafe loved her after just a few days. And she didn’t love him. Not really . She couldn’t. No. She just desired him and that made her brain jump to all sorts of conclusions because it hadn’t made the proper connections as a child.

The rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the air and Hilary sighed, placing a steaming mug in front of Tilly before leaning against the counter. ‘I can’t believe I’m going to miss the church nativity today.’ She broke Tilly’s reverie, hauling her into the moment.

‘What do you mean?’ Rafe asked.

Tilly paused, her toast halfway to her mouth, and looked up.

‘Well, I can’t get there in this weather, can I?’

‘I guess not,’ Rafe said. ‘I forgot it was today.’

‘Such a shame,’ Hilary said. ‘It’s one of the highlights of the year.’

‘Is it for kids?’ Tilly asked.

‘The children take part,’ Hilary said. ‘And everyone sings. It’s not scripted or rehearsed. Whoever turns up gets a part and the minister tells the story. It’s always so lovely. We have a new minister. I wanted to see his first nativity with us.’

‘Sounds cute. I’ve never been to a nativity.’

Hilary put her hand on Tilly’s arm. ‘Poor love, you’ve missed out on so much. Christmas is a wonderful time with family. I’m so sorry you never had that.’ She leaned over and hugged her.

Tears pricked again. Why was everyone so nice? It might have been easier if they were horrible and desperate to get rid of her, then she’d be thrilled to leave. But walking away would be horrible.

‘Why don’t you show Tilly the video of last year’s show? You filmed it, didn’t you?’ Rafe said.

‘Oh, yes. I could.’ Hilary retrieved a tablet from a drawer in the dresser. ‘It’s not the best filming, but you’ll get the idea.’

She sat down beside Tilly and flicked through some videos. Tilly leaned over and watched. The church looked quaint, and the children were very cute in their costumes. ‘So lovely,’ Tilly said. ‘I can see why you don’t want to miss it. But won’t other people be snowed in too? Won’t it be cancelled if no one can get there?’

‘Maybe, but the church is in Glenbriar, so people in the town will be able to walk to it.’

‘It looks magical,’ Tilly said. ‘Such a shame you’ll miss it.’

‘At least I get to spend time with my family,’ she said. ‘The kids are a bit too old to join in and Alexander is a bit too young, so maybe I’m better here enjoying time with them.’

‘Speaking of the fam, where is everyone?’ Rafe said.

‘In the living room. They might be planning another walk or more sledging.’

‘I’m not sure I’m going on a sledge ever again.’ Tilly glanced at Rafe. Well, she might if he was holding her… Clingy, much?

‘It wasn’t all bad, was it?’ He raised his eyebrow.

‘Not all of it.’

‘You could stay and help me make a yule log if you want?’ Hilary suggested.

‘Ok. I’ve always wanted to bake, but I never really tried.’

‘Genevieve is going to help too. She’s a wonderful cook. Maybe you’ve seen her on social media. She’s a bit of a star.’

‘I’m not sure that I have.’

‘She used to be into lifestyle stuff, but now she focuses on cooking and she has her own range of kitchenware.’

Tilly watched as Hilary played a reel of Genevieve cooking.

‘She’s great,’ Tilly said. ‘So confident.’

‘Are you going to bake?’ Hilary asked Rafe.

‘I’ll pass on that, though I’m happy to do the taste test.’

‘Dear, dear,’ Hilary said. ‘Maybe you could find Genevieve for me. And then you can go for a walk with the others if you’re not going to make yourself useful around here.’

‘That’s me told.’ He saluted them. ‘Right you are, Mum. I’ll fetch little sis number two straight away.’

The decadent scent of dark chocolate was almost as lush as kissing Rafe had been. Tilly was a little lightheaded, though that was possibly due to a combination of everything that had happened this weekend rather than the chocolate.

She, Hilary, and Genevieve gathered around the kitchen counter. Bowls of flour, sugar, and other ingredients were laid out and Tilly felt like she’d been whipped straight onto the set of one of Genevieve’s reels.

Hilary tied her Mrs Claus apron at the waist. ‘We need to get this sponge just right.’ She gestured to the mixing bowl. ‘It has to be light and fluffy like a cloud.’

Tilly watched as Genevieve cracked eggs and separated the yolks from the whites.

‘I get the feeling that would have taken me hours,’ Tilly said.

‘It takes practise,’ Genevieve said. ‘I do it on instinct now. It’s like I’ve forgotten the method.’

‘Amazing,’ Tilly said.

‘You can have a go, if you want.’

‘No. I don’t think anybody wants bits of shell in their cake.’

Hilary patted her back and smiled. ‘Have faith in yourself. Honestly, I’ve been making cakes with my three since they were knee-high to a grasshopper and some of the mess I’ve cleared up…’ She raised the back of her hand to her forehead dramatically. ‘But really, that old saying about not being able to make a cake without cracking eggs? It’s true. Just don’t worry about it. Even if the process is messy, the outcome can still be wonderful.’

That could apply to more than just this cake. But probably not to her and Rafe. Was that where Hilary was going with this? She didn’t know just how messy things had got. Messy but nice. So nice, in so many ways. Something stirred deep inside her, something warm and fuzzy that sat alongside a thought of Rafe coming back, putting his arms around her, and holding her close. A sense of belonging. Only it wasn’t real. This wasn’t where she belonged. Shaking the thought from her head, she refocused. ‘Did everyone else go for a walk?’ she asked, taking an egg from Hilary.

‘Apparently,’ Genevieve said. ‘Though I doubt Rafe and Finlay got very far. They’ll be in the front garden having a snowball battle.’

Hilary and Tilly laughed. Genevieve came around to show Tilly the best way to separate the egg and she managed it without any mishaps.

‘Silly boys are out there throwing snowballs at the window.’ Grandma came in and settled at the kitchen table.

‘Knew it.’ Genevieve cleared away the eggshells.

‘But you still made a good choice. Finlay is a wonderful lad.’

‘He really is.’

‘I adored Finlay the minute I met him,’ Hilary told Tilly. ‘Though I didn’t know he and Genevieve were just pretending to be together at that point. To stop me setting her up with other people, would you believe?’ Hilary made a face of mock shock and Tilly laughed harder. How could she not? Apparently, it was the family M.O.

‘Cressida is now my only child who hasn’t pretended to date someone to get me off their case. But…’ She waggled the wooden spoon dripping with chocolate at Genevieve. ‘I realised before you did how you actually felt about him and I was right, wasn’t I?’

‘Yes, Mum,’ she said in a low voice.

‘I know what’s good for my children. And speaking of which.’ She turned to Tilly, lowering the spoon. ‘Rafe is a good boy. He’s got a heart of gold. He’s done well in business, and he’s a compassionate boss, not a ruthless one.’

‘I know that.’

‘I would give him a piece of my mind if he ever went that way,’ Grandma said. ‘No need for those cutthroat methods.’

Hilary let out a sigh. ‘He’s such a caring soul. I just wish he’d find someone special. Someone who he can be himself with. His last girlfriend only seemed to be attracted to him because of his position and his success; she didn’t really seem to care about him. They didn’t have much in common.’

Tilly’s heart skipped a beat. She and Rafe had a couple of things in common: they both worked in travel, and neither had a great love of Christmas. But was that clutching at straws? It was hardly a long list. ‘He’s a great guy,’ Tilly replied, keeping her voice steady. ‘But he’s happy on his own, I think.’

‘Hmph,’ Hilary muttered. ‘So he says.’

‘Utter twaddle,’ Grandma added.

‘You know he’s divorced?’ Genevieve said.

‘Yeah. He told me,’ Tilly said.

‘Do we have to talk about that?’ Hilary glanced away. ‘I normally don’t mind who my children date and have relationships with so long as they’re happy, but I never warmed to his ex-wife. He rushed in there when he should have waited. If he had, he’d have been a lot happier in the long run.’

Tilly swallowed. Maybe she and Rafe weren’t so unalike. He’d rushed into a marriage, just as she’d rushed into thinking she was in love with the first man who’d been nice to her. Rafe wouldn’t want a repeat of that, which was yet another reason she had to keep reminding herself this was nothing but a weekend. The thought of disappointing Hilary preyed heavily on her, but how could she prevent it?

A biting anxiety gnawed its way into Tilly’s stomach. She’d already prolonged this ‘relationship’ enough. She couldn’t get away yet, but she had to be prepared. Not only that, she would have to contact her boss soon. The thought of facing the repercussions of this trip made her squirm. She stole a glance at her phone, a silent reminder of the looming task ahead. How was she going to break the news she wouldn’t be at work tomorrow because she was still stranded in Scotland? Was that a dog-ate-my-homework standard of excuse or what?

Hilary placed a hand on her shoulder, as if sensing the conflict raging inside, and Tilly wanted to fall into her arms. ‘Don’t worry,’ Hilary said, her voice gentle and kind. ‘Everything will work out. You’ll see.’

Tilly smiled her thanks but couldn’t reply. The well was building up to bursting again and she was fighting hard to hold the floodgates.

‘Come here.’ Hilary pulled her in for a hug and Tilly’s worries momentarily eased. But like everything else this weekend, it would be short-lived, and reality was going to hit hard, very soon. It made her rigid, though she wanted to relax and enjoy the sensation of being hugged by a lovely mum.

‘You’re so kind,’ Tilly whispered, and Hilary released her, but her brow was a little furrowed. ‘I need to back out for a moment and message my boss to let him know I’m stuck here.’

‘You stick up for yourself.’ Hilary gave her another bracing pat. ‘And don’t feel bad. This weather isn’t your fault.’

That was true, but she still couldn’t completely shake the niggle that she shouldn’t be here at all.

The living room was empty, its huge window walls giving a perfect view of the pristine landscape. No one was in sight, so Rafe and Finlay must have taken their snowball fight somewhere else.

Maybe she should snap a photo and send it to her boss as proof of where she was, but that was ridiculous. She shouldn’t have to. Her word should be enough. She was twenty-six and had worked there for nine years. She’d worked hard to get where she was, doing online courses and professional development, though so far it had got her nowhere. Now was the time for them to pay back a little.

She opened her phone and typed out an email.

Hi Arnie

Just to let you know I won’t be able to come into work tomorrow. I remained in Scotland on Friday and unfortunately I’m snowed in and can’t get back. The trains etc. are also cancelled from the area.

I can work online if that suits, and I’ll let you know when I can get back.

Regards

Tilly

There, that was professional and friendly. She’d offered to work from here and covered her back. Surely that would be enough. Now she just had to wait.

She let out a sigh, wrapping her arms around herself, trying to bring back the sensations she had when Rafe had held her close. Her chin dropped to her chest, and she internally cringed. If this wasn’t the very definition of needy, then what was? How could she make this stop?