Holiday Second Chance Romance

8 The Past

Clarice POV

In the moments before my eyes open, I forget that my husband is a lying cheater, but as soon as they open, I remember. I refuse to waste another day crying. I'm not stupid enough to think I won't cry again, but I'm going to do my hardest not to. Now that I'm here, I'm going to have to set an appointment up with the doctor to check on my little bean. I also have to call Judy. I'm hoping she can direct me to a lawyer that can handle everything for me. I don't want to see either of them before I have to.

I know I have to tell him about the baby but not until after she or he is born. He doesn't deserve to share my pregnancy. A knock brings me out of my thoughts. The door pushes open and Chrissy steps inside with a tray of food. I'm grateful when I don't smell bacon. "Chrissy, you didn't have to do this. If anything, I should be making breakfast for you for letting me stay in your home." "Nonsense, I'm glad you're here. Besides, I told you that you should rest for a couple of days," she says.

I'm just about to tell her I want to stay busy when her phone rings. "No, Linda, I promise we will be fine. I can watch the desk today. I don't have any plans," she says. When she disconnects the call, she smiles. "Sorry, Linda has a stomach bug. I was hoping we could just hang out today watching Christmas movies, but I guess I'll be working the desk," she says.

"I can work the desk. Just tell me what I need to do and I'll do it. I want to help out Chrissy. It will also keep my mind busy." "It's really just answering phones and greeting customers. The Inn is full, so it shouldn't be too crazy. Most of the time, it's just telling tourists good places to eat and fun things to do," she says. "I can do that. I'm sure not much has changed in the last ten years." "No, it hasn't. Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course," I say before biting my toast. "Why didn't you ever come back to visit? Your parents still live in the same house you grew up in," she says. "It's hard for me to be around my parents. Especially my mom." "Clarice, you don't have to talk about this if you don't want to," she says. "No, it's fine. I love this town. Christmas is my favorite time of year. When I was a kid I loved spending time decorating and helping my mother bake. Everything seemed perfect in my life, but it was a facade."

"I was a teenager when I saw my father cheating for the first time. He was kissing one of my classmates mom's on the sidewalk. He begged me not to tell my mother. Insisted it was a mistake, and it would never happen again. Pleaded that my mother shouldn't pay for his mistakes. I almost believed him. I wanted to that is until I heard him on the phone setting up a time to meet the same woman."

I can feel the tears and I smile when Chrissy wipes my cheek. She takes my hand in hers, offering me support. "I went straight to the kitchen where my mom was baking and told her everything. She looked like I had slapped her. I wondered if I had made a mistake telling her, but I would want to know. That was the first time I heard them really fight. I expected my mother to come upstairs to get me and for us to leave, but instead it was my father that came to my room."

"He told me that what happened between him and my mom was none of my business. Said I was a child and I didn't understand grownup relationships. That was the last time I thought of him as my dad. The minute I got accepted to UCLA, I ran, and I didn't look back." "Did your mom ever talk to you about what happened" she asks. "She did. Told me that I was wrong. That I had made something out of nothing. Told me my father was a good provider and that he loved us. She knew and she stayed. I love my mother, but I couldn't be there while she let him treat her like she was nothing."

"Are you going to be alright if they show up here? You know how fast word travels in a small town. Maybe you should work in the kitchen or something that won't have you sitting front and center in the lobby," she says. I smile at how thoughtful she is. She really is an amazing person. I'm practically a stranger, and she has done so much for me. "No, I'll be fine. If they show up, it doesn't mean I have to engage with them. Besides, being at the desk will give me time to write when the Inn is slow."

"Alright, but if you get tired or just need a break, you let me know. I'm going to help Lacey in the kitchen after I talk to grumpy downstairs," she says, and I giggle. "I'm going to go if you want to finish your breakfast and shower before you head over," she says moving toward the door. "Chrissy" I say, and she turns to look at me. "Thank you for being there for me when I had no one else." She offers me a warm smile. "That's what friends are supposed to do, Clarice."

Once I've cleaned my plate and drank my orange juice, I head to shower. Fifteen minutes later I'm dressed in a green sweater dress and a pair of leggings. I grab my computer bag and head out of the apartment. Five minutes later I'm taking a seat behind the big wooden desk that sits across from a huge fireplace. This place is very cozy and inviting. I don't think I ever stepped foot in this place when I was a kid.

I set up my computer and start to work on the next chapter of my book. Chrissy was right about how busy I'd be. I only had two phone calls and five guests asking for the best place to eat. I was just finishing my second chapter when a throat clearing had me looking up at a face I really didn't want to see. "Well, if it isn't Clarice Martin. It's been a long time since you've been in town," Elaine Brooker says with a smug smile on her face. "Is there something I can help you with, Miss Brooker?"

"I'm here to deliver pastries and sweets. My father still owns the only bakery in town," she says. "Good for him. I'll let Lacey know you're here." I pick up the phone letting Lacey know before I turn back to my computer. "Is it really appropriate for you to be on your computer when you are working the desk? I don't think that Nick would like that," she says. Before I can open my mouth to tell her to f**k off, Nick steps into the lobby.

"Oh Nick, there you are. I was just telling your employee here you wouldn't like her playing on her computer when she should be working," she says, placing her hand on his bicep. Jealousy flares inside me and I want to rip her arm off for touching him. What the hell is wrong with you, I say to myself? "Considering she is not my employee and what she does is none of your business," he says gruffly as he pushes her hand off his arm.

I want to fist pump the air, but instead I let a smug smile spread across my face. She glares at me before she turns her attention back to Nick. "Do you know who she is, Nick? She left this town and her family ten years ago. Is she really the kind of person you want here at the Inn greeting your customers?" "Should I tell him what kind of person you are, Elaine? Maybe I should drive to the bakery and tell your father what kind of daughter he raised."

"You wouldn't dare," she says. "Try me. I'm not a teenage girl anymore, and I'm sure as hell not my mother. Now deliver your baked goods and be gone before I decide to tell your daddy he raised a wh*re who screws married men." I whisper the last part. She screeches before she rushes toward the door. A booming laugh has my head whipping in Nick's direction. I'm sure my cheeks are flaming red. I'm usually better at controlling my anger. I'm blaming these damn hormones.

"That was amazing. I've wanted to call her that more than once for being so touchy, but I like her father. She is always trying to latch onto a rich man, but no one is biting," he says. "I'm sorry for making a scene Nick. As good as it felt I shouldn't have done it here."

"You don't need to apologize. I'm guessing you two have history that isn't pleasant and based on what you called her and said, I can guess what it is," he says. "I'm sure more than half the town knows what my father got up to, and I'm sure he hasn't changed."

I expect him to look at me with sympathy, which I don't want, but he doesn't. "Do you want a coffee and a cheese Danish. They are really amazing. It's the only reason I put up with touchy a** out there," he says, and I giggle. "No coffee, but I'll take a glass of milk and the Danish." He grabs my hand and gives it a squeeze. "Alright, coming right up," he says before stepping away. I look down at my hand and I wonder again what the hell is wrong with me that I'm sad he let it go.