A Wedding One Christmas Page 7

  Ezra took in the frumpy red-and-white dress and grinned. ‘Yeah, you’re right. At least I actually look like Father Christmas.’

  He hadn’t enjoyed stuffing the pillow under his shirt, but he supposed that was part of the deal. Along with the white beard and hat. He just wished there was a summer version of Father Christmas’s outfit. Maybe a short-sleeve shirt and some formal shorts.

  If he were going to brainstorm a summer look for the man, Ezra would also have suggested perhaps trimming the beard to a short stubble. Attractive and modern. And making people who dressed up as him in thirty-degree Celsius weather less miserable about their life choices.

  ‘Does the hair even make it more convincing?’

  Ezra laughed as she fiddled with the wig, which looked exponentially larger since she’d only just managed to tame her curls.

  ‘Do you want an honest answer, or do you want me to lie?’ he asked. She grunted. ‘Hey, you’re the reason we’re in this mess in the first place. You should let me enjoy this.’

  She gave him a fake smile now and he laughed again.

  He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so free. So light. It must have been some time during his relationship with Liesel, except that as he scraped through his memories to try to remember when that was, he couldn’t find a single memory of when he’d felt this good.

  Which begged the question: why had he packed up his life and moved away from his family if he couldn’t even remember being happy with his girlfriend? Why had he proposed? And why had he been so surprised—so hurt—when she’d refused?

  The thoughts were unwelcome when he felt so detached from the situation. But then, when had he ever really been detached from it? It followed him around like a curse he couldn’t shake. He’d thought leaving Grahamstown would help, but it only seemed to have amplified it.

  His eyes rested on Angie. Maybe it wasn’t leaving that had amplified it...

  ‘There are at least two upsides,’ she said when Dany gave them the sign and they began to walk to the North Pole-themed float. There were no elves, unfortunately, but Dany seemed content with managing to secure another Father Christmas and Mrs. Claus.

  ‘One, this could have been much worse. Dany could have chosen to have Mrs. Claus be sexy. While I’m all for sexual empowerment, I don’t think dressing in a skimpy dress in front of thousands or however many people would have done us any favours.’

  ‘Not sure that’s true,’ he commented, desperate to get the disturbingly enticing image she created out of his head.

  ‘I mean in terms of characterisation,’ she said dryly. ‘I don’t think Mrs. Claus would want people to gawk at her in the way a skimpy dress would have elicited.’ She lifted a brow. ‘In the way you’re gawking.’

  He grinned. ‘Thanks for clarifying.’ He waited a beat. ‘Your dedication to portraying Mrs. Claus authentically is something I’m sure will be noted during award season.’

  ‘Two,’ she continued flatly, not acknowledging his comment, tossing her head back. He didn’t think it had the effect she’d hoped for with that wig. ‘I know none of these people, so I’m fairly certain this won’t end up biting me in the butt.’

  He grimaced.

  ‘What?’ He pulled his face again. ‘Ezra,’ she growled, ‘if you don’t tell me what that expression is about, I’m going to push you off the float and pretend it was an accident.’

  He climbed up the stairs Dany had put up next to the trailer, and glanced back. ‘Has this been your plan all along? Murder because I talked about kidnapping?’

  ‘No,’ she said sweetly. ‘But if you don’t tell me what you were pulling your face at, I won’t be able to tell the judge I was remorseful if I did murder you.’

  ‘I was only thinking that you shouldn’t have said it,’ he relented. ‘About knowing people here, I mean. It’s the kind of thing that causes people you know to pop up.’

  ‘I don’t have magical powers.’

  ‘It’s called the law of attraction. I don’t make up the rules,’ he said with a shrug when she narrowed her eyes at him. She hissed out a breath.

  ‘It would be just my luck, too, if someone I knew saw me here.’

  ‘And didn’t you say your parents lived here?’ he asked.

  She blinked up at him, then began to climb up the stairs slowly, as if his question had weighed down her limbs. He immediately regretted asking it. He also knew that if he asked whether she was okay like he wanted to, it wouldn’t go down successfully.

  She was like one of those plants that closed up if someone touched them. If he asked her about something she didn’t want to talk about, she pulled back and he wouldn’t even get the surprise revelations she shared with him. That...would have been a shame. A disappointment. A loss. So he didn’t say anything. Held out a hand instead.

  She blinked again, but gripped it, before lifting her leg and climbing over the low railing keeping everything from toppling over. It brought her closer to him, like they’d been at the hill, and his body immediately thanked him for it.

  He was a head taller than her, but her expression made him feel as though they were of equal stature. Or perhaps that feeling came from somewhere deep inside him; somewhere more significant. Somewhere that knew he wasn’t referring to her height, but her character. Strong. Steady. A perfect fit for him.

  The thought had him stepping back. Releasing her hand. Taking an unsteady breath.

  ‘You okay?’ she asked quietly when he turned away. He took a moment to process, and she must have known he needed it because she didn’t repeat her question or say anything else. When he felt better, he turned back and answered.

  ‘Sure.’

  She nodded. Seconds later, Dany called from the car’s window that they’d be joining the convoy soon. She’d barely said the words before the traffic officer gave his signal, and the car roared to life under them. It edged forward slowly, and Angie gripped his hand.

  ‘Sorry,’ she said when he looked over. ‘I’ve never done anything like this before.’

  ‘Nor have I.’

  ‘Yeah, but you look steadier for some reason.’

  ‘Trust me, I’m not.’

  She turned to him. ‘I’m not talking about your emotional well-being. We both know I’m more stable in that department.’

  She winked and his mouth curved, though for the life of him, he knew he should have felt more offended. He also knew that he should have looked away, let go of her hand; he did neither.

  They stood like that for the longest time. And when the spell ended—though a part of him worried it never would—he cleared his throat. ‘I guess the only way we’re going to get through this is if we stick together.’ He squeezed her hand. ‘Let’s go win some donuts.’

  Chapter Six

  They did not win the donuts.

  There hadn’t been any clues of this result as they’d gone through the motions of the parade though. For the most part, it had been fun. It would have been all fun if Angie hadn’t felt the memories chasing after her as the car slowly drove down Caledon’s main street.

  In some ways, this was unavoidable. She’d been to Caledon’s main town a few times before. Always driving through; always for a handful of minutes. She thought now that perhaps her parents had merely been doing it for their own sakes rather than that of their children. Regardless, it meant Angie had something to compare what she was seeing to.

  Nothing had changed.

  Perhaps that’s what sent the wave of longing through her. As they waved to the cheering crowds—as Ezra dug deep into the red bag he’d been given for the ‘presents’ of marshmallow chocolates for the kids, deftly throwing them into the crowd—it washed through Angie, forcing her to cling to whatever she could find to keep steady. It worried her that she immediately looked to Ezra. Which had been the reason she refused the impulse to take his hand, letting herself
be dragged by the wave instead.

  The parade had started just off the national road, giving them a glimpse of the tail end of the casino and spa that acted as one of the main tourist draws for the town. Then they slowly went through the middle of the town, following a designated route that took them through roads Angie hadn’t seen before. It didn’t matter. The feel of the town was the same.

  There was no one style of building here, which was part of the town’s appeal. Old mixed with new in a quaint combination of past traditions and what would become future traditions. Red buildings stood next to cream buildings, which, in turn, stood next to historical buildings; churches and government buildings stood opposite liquor stores and furniture shops. The roads had been cordoned off for the parade, and people pressed against the barriers separating the road from the sidewalk, eager to get a view of the floats.

  Not all of them though, Angie thought, handing out the cookies she’d been given as part of her Mrs. Claus character. Her eyes settled on one young girl standing at the top of a step far from the barrier. Her arms were folded, her mouth turned down, and she was leaning against the wall of a convenience store. Everything about her screamed that she didn’t want to be there.

  Angie’s mouth curved up. She’d seen that stance before. In many of the teenagers she’d taught over the years, but also in her sister. Sophia would have hated this. She would have protested vehemently at being forced to attend, and because she would have been forced to attend, she would have made sure everyone knew how much she hated it.

  Which, of course, would have made Zoey determined to get Sophia to smile. Their youngest sister would have teased and joked and threatened. Hell, there might even have been bouncing and some very bad gymnastics. And if that didn’t work, Zoey would have resorted to drastic measures: roping Angie in. Together, Angie and Zoey would have done the only thing they knew would make Sophia smile: The Terrible Dance.

  Someone handed her the empty plate back, and Angie offered a smile as thanks. She was afraid of what it might have looked like though. She was in no state to offer a genuine smile.

  ‘Are you okay?’ Ezra asked, edging over to her as smoothly as he did everything else. And annoying the hell out of her in the process.

  ‘Fine.’

  ‘You don’t seem fine.’

  ‘You’re an expert now that we’ve spent—what, ninety minutes together?’

  He lifted his free hand in an easy surrender, but his gaze was shrewd. ‘Just making sure my partner in Christmas is okay.’

  Despite herself, her lips twitched.

  Which, again, annoyed her, because how was this man so charming? He said he didn’t do well with strangers, and yet he smoothly interacted with the crowds watching the parade. And she didn’t want to start on how well he was dealing with her. How despite her moodiness, he took her hand and drew her gently to his side, pointing out the spectacles of the other floats now that his gift bag was empty. He did it seemingly knowing she needed to be distracted.

  At the end of it, Angie was smiling, laughing, as if Ezra had banished the darkness of those memories for her. Perhaps it would have been easier to let him steady her right from the beginning, she thought. But then her stomach flipped and something in her chest constricted, and she ignored that, too. Which meant that she was ignoring almost all her thoughts, and even she could admit that was ridiculous.

  ‘I’m sorry we didn’t win the donuts,’ Angie said after the winners had been announced and Dany stood waiting as Angie and Ezra got off the float.

  ‘It was a long shot,’ Dany said, waving a hand. ‘I’m just glad I got to participate.’ She gave them a genuine smile. ‘Thank you so much for helping out. I know this probably wasn’t what either of you wanted to spend your afternoon on.’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Ezra said, glancing over at Angie with a small smile. ‘I think it worked out okay.’

  ‘It was certainly preferable over other celebrations today,’ Angie added, which got her a wider smile from Ezra and a look of confusion from Dany.

  ‘Anyway,’ Dany said after a moment. ‘Just because you didn’t win the donuts, doesn’t mean you shouldn’t have some.’

  She tilted her head toward a booth that had a Do It Donuts sign standing at the front, and then waddled over. Angie exchanged a look with Ezra—Do it Donuts? Really?—before following Dany.

  ‘Give these people some donuts, Ben,’ Dany said, ignoring the long line and walking to the front, slapping money on the counter.

  Ben smiled—a kind smile, Angie thought, smiling back—and nodded. ‘You got it, Dany. I’ll give you chef’s choice since you’re not from around here.’ He winked at them before folding a box and selecting donuts from beneath the glass casing.

  ‘Small town,’ Dany said when she stopped in front of them again. ‘You have a certain look about you when you’re not from around here.’

  ‘Though shouldn’t that mean we have to stand at the back of the queue?’ Angie asked, amused.

  ‘Nah, you’re with me.’ Dany grinned. ‘Ben’s an ex-boyfriend. Part of our breakup agreement was that he gives me donuts whenever I want them.’

  ‘Sounds like a pretty good deal,’ Ezra noted. Angie glanced over at him, but he was looking at Dany, no indication that the ex-talk was making him uncomfortable.

  ‘Yeah, we both knew it wasn’t going anywhere.’ Dany lifted a shoulder. ‘Sometimes you get bored in a small town and end up doing things you shouldn’t. Things ended amicably, as you can see.’ Ben gestured to her and she waddled back over, grabbing the box from him. ‘And now you get donuts,’ she said when she returned.

  ‘We’re grateful.’

  ‘Me, too.’ Dany smiled. Her gaze narrowed on one person and she sighed. ‘There’s Nikki. I better go talk with her. The sooner I do, the sooner I’ll forgive her for letting me down. Thanks again.’

  She hugged them both, and left with another sigh.

  ‘You know,’ Angie said minutes later, studying her half-eaten donut as they made their way back to the café, ‘this might actually be the best donut I’ve tasted.’

  ‘Definitely,’ Ezra agreed, licking his fingers after finishing his own donut. She was distracted by it for a moment—what else could he do with that tongue?—before shaking her head.

  ‘I bet you’re glad I volunteered now.’

  ‘I’m not planning my revenge anymore,’ he allowed.

  ‘That’s something.’ She laughed, and smiled at the young boy who shrieked with glee before running off to catch an elf.

  ‘This feels almost festive, doesn’t it?’ she asked, finishing her donut. ‘The parade, the aftermath.’

  She gestured around at the busy street, wondering now at the fact that it had been successfully cordoned off. In Cape Town, it probably would have caused a number of traffic incidents. She was sure there would have been a significantly higher number of disgruntled citizens, too.

  In contrast, the residents of Caledon seemed to have embraced it. Hundreds of people were roaming around them, enjoying the food stalls that had been set up or rushing toward the entertainment areas. There was a Christmas-tree decorating competition in front of them, and a cookie-decorating competition behind them. The air felt happy and calm. Angie breathed in deeply, as if doing so would help her hold that feeling inside her.

  ‘It does feel festive,’ Ezra said after a while. ‘But the real question is whether it’s festive enough to change your mind about the festive season?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Do you still hate it?’

  ‘I don’t hate it.’ She felt his gaze on her, but she refused to look over, afraid of what he might see.

  ‘Fine,’ he said. ‘Only weddings then.’

  ‘I thought we already established I don’t hate weddings. I hate the baggage they come with. I’ve also told you about why that is.’

  �
��Not everything though,’ he commented, and she blew out a breath. How could he see through her when she wasn’t even looking at him?

  ‘How do you know that?’

  ‘I don’t know. Instinct.’

  ‘Instinct,’ she repeated. Shook her head. ‘Well, since your instinct is on point, I suppose I’ll tell you.’ She paused. ‘Weddings force me to face my family. Whatever you’re sensing about my feelings about Christmas is probably because weddings at Christmas give me an overdose of family interactions, which I was thinking about earlier. That’s not really something I relish anymore.’

  ‘Who does?’

  ‘I used to.’ The aftertaste of the donut somehow went from sweet to bitter. ‘There was a period of time where we were happy as a family.’

  ‘What changed?’

  ‘I... I don’t know.’ She kept her gaze on the ground. ‘I want to say that something happened. So there’s a clear delineation, you know? Then I can tell you about the pre-something period, and the post-something period. The truth is...more complicated.’

  ‘You do know then,’ he noted. ‘It’s complicated, but you know.’ When she looked at him, he shrugged. ‘They’re not the same things.’

  ‘No, they aren’t.’ She took a breath. ‘I think I got to see the cracks when I was older. Or saw things for what they were.’

  ‘Which was?’

  She didn’t answer for the longest time. ‘I thought my parents were happy. They were, I guess. But when I got older I realised that happiness didn’t come from a healthy place. My mother was so dependent on my father. My father liked that, and they had this... I don’t know, I guess symbiotic relationship would describe it best. Where they’re both benefitting on the surface, but in reality, they’re hurting one another.’

  ‘Or maybe just you?’

  She looked over at him. ‘No. No,’ she said again with a slight shake of her head.

  ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘What about your sisters?’

  ‘What about them?’

  ‘You don’t like spending time with them?’