When Christmas Comes by Debbie Macomber

Author:Debbie Macomber [Macomber, Debbie]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: MIRA Books
Published: 2018-10-01T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Southern Florida in December was paradise. There was no other word for it. The beach was flawless, the water blue and clear and warm, the sunshine constant. It was as close to heaven as anyone who’d spent a winter in Boston could imagine.

What Heather didn’t know was why she felt so miserable in such a perfect setting. She had every reason in the world to be happy, but she wasn’t. To make matters worse, Elijah was growing irritated with her moods.

“Get me a beer,” her hero called from where he was stretched out beneath a palm tree on the beach, one of his stalwart companions beside him.

Heather got up from the beach towel where she was sunbathing and walked back into their motel room. She opened the small refrigerator and brought out a cold beer. Without a word she delivered it to Elijah. He looked at his friend, nodded, and the other man stood up and left.

“Let’s talk,” Elijah said, patting the sand next to him.

“About what?” Heather crossed her arms stubbornly.

“Sit down,” he ordered. He pointed at the empty space his friend had just vacated.

Reluctantly Heather joined him.

“All right,” he muttered after opening the beer. He took a long swig and wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Don’t give me that. You haven’t been yourself since we left Boston.”

Heather didn’t say anything. He knew she felt terrible about leaving her mother behind. If he couldn’t figure it out, then she wasn’t going to tell him.

“I thought you’d like Florida.” Elijah made it sound like an accusation, as if he’d done everything humanly possible to provide for her happiness.

“What’s not to like?”

Elijah nodded. “Exactly—so what’s the problem?”

“You’re right. I’m not happy.”

He wrapped his arm around her neck, the cold beer bottle dangling between two fingers. “What is it, babe?”

Heather cringed at his use of the word babe, but she’d given up trying to convince Elijah to call her anything else. What particularly irritated her was that she suspected it was the term he used with all his girlfriends.

“If you must know, I’m worried about my mother.”

Elijah tightened his grip around her neck by taking another healthy swig of beer. “I thought we already talked that out.”

“We talked.” He seemed to think it was a closed subject. Heather wished it was, but none of this was turning out the way she’d hoped. The motel was a dump, she was sick of fast food, the other women didn’t like her, and…

“What is it now?”

She shook her head, letting her long hair swing. “Nothing.”

“Don’t give me that,” he said again. “You’ve been in a piss-poor mood from the get-go.” He spread his arms and looked out at the rolling waves of the ocean. “Here we are in paradise and you’re whining about your mother.” He made it sound ludicrous.

Maybe it was, but Heather couldn’t help herself. “I’m just worried about her.”

“You’re worried about Mommy?” Now he made it seem like one big joke and that infuriated her even more.

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