Chapter 36

He ran to her. Grabbed her hard, crushed her to him. “Babe. We’re good.”

A great sense of deja-vu blanketed her and she dragged her gaze up to meet Eli’s. “I can’t believe it’s over.”

But he’d closed his eyes. “Hell. I almost lost you.”

She shuttered her gaze too, burrowed into his hold. “I almost lost you, too.”

He squeezed her again, just to feel her. “It’s done now.”

She snuggled closer. “Yeah. Finally.” Then she pulled back, scrutinized him. “Anywhere else you have to go? Anything else I should know about?”

But he just shook his head. “No. I mean, there’s more stuff I can’t tell you about, just so we’re clear. But no. There’s nowhere else I have to go.”

And with that, she sighed. “You got your life back again.”

“Yeah.”

And suddenly, the possibilities flew through her. “You might want to…reenlist, one day?”

She heard the hesitation in his voice. “Aw, hell, Tish. I’m not exactly solider material anymore.”

“But you might consider it?”

She sensed he didn’t want to discuss it, but somehow, he didn’t fight her. Probably out of kindness. “I’ll consider it. When the time comes.”

And that would have to do.

Well, if he didn’t want to discuss that, she had something else to suggest. “I heard you talking with Ian. And…some brotherhood? They gave some very specific suggestions about us?”

He grabbed her hand, clasped it to his chest. “They did.”

“Something about you, and me, and…”

She play-batted her eyes at him, just for fun. The teasing, the play, it had always been their coping mechanism, their release. And it was comfortable.

“Exactly. That.”

She grinned. “I kinda like these guys. Tell me—are they cute?”

“Cute, definitely,” he nodded. “Fantastically cute.” He gave her a searching look. “All gay.”

“Hmm,” she countered. “I wonder if they’d like to engage in try-outs? Batting for the other team? See what it’s like?”

He yanked her close abruptly and she was flush with his chest. “The only guy you’re going to want to try out with, Tish Taylor, for the next little while—which equals about three hundred thousand damn years—is the guy with his hand on your ass.”

She wiggled her rear and there it was, planted firmly. On her ass.

She laid her cheek on his shoulder, melted into him, arms around his back. “Eli.”

His breath fell on her ear, and the words may have been simple, but to her they were everything. “I love you, Tish.”

The tears came.

And as they stood there, the house creaked. Loud, in the silence.

They jolted, broke apart. “What the hell was that?”

“A bloody big noise.”

“I hope nothing broke,” Eli looked around, apparently didn’t see evidence of any issue. “But I guess…it doesn’t matter, right? We’re just here for a couple more hours, and the place is going to be torn down, eventually. Right?”

“Yeah. That’s right.” Tish moved over to the kitchen counter, now clean, having been scrubbed by Eli earlier. She looked at the spot, placed her hand on it. “It’s a shame, you know? What I really think this old place needs is a caretaker.”

“Oh yeah?” Eli queried. “Seems more like you and I needed a caretaker.” He spread his arms, pointing to the house, seemingly to its presence. “Our caretaker. You got any money in your savings account?”

“Some. I’m not getting a big settlement from Christoff, no matter how generous he wants to be.” She shook her head. “Not my thing.”

“I have some. This disappearing into thin-air thing is costly. Now that I don’t have to…”

And then, another, huge creak. It reverberated through the entire house, doors, windows, hallways. Foundation, first floor, second.

And she’d have been worried if it didn’t sound so much like joy to her.

Total, unmitigated, unbridled, joy.

“Did you hear that? The big creak?”

“I did.” He strode over quickly, grabbed her purposefully, gave her a big squeeze. “Shut your eyes.”

“Wha…”

“Just shut your eyes. For two seconds.” Suddenly he was gone. She heard movement in the room, then he was back, his arms around her, shuffling her somewhere.

“Okay, you can open your eyes now.”

She did, and he was grinning. “Look up.”

And there, above their heads, stuck to the top of the door frame just above the little tack from long ago, was a tiny little, puffy, mistletoe sticker.

She gasped. The other thing she’d wanted that year. Still did. No diminishment.

The clock, the kiss…and Eli.

And she’d gotten all of them, this one, crazy Christmas.

Her eyes watered suddenly. Of all the Christmas Eves in all the places she’d been in the last three years, actually, in her whole damn life, this one was the best.

Yes, crazy. Somewhat insane, yes.

But hands down, the most magical. A miracle.

Her real miracle.

“Oh Eli.” She couldn’t believe it. “Really?” She struggled to keep the tears, the big feelings, at bay, but it wasn’t working. “Really? You just happened to have a Christmas mistletoe sticker on you?”

Eli opened his jacket to envelop her and she found herself squashed against his sweater. “Really, T-Bear. I’ll tell you the story later of how I got that. It’s as crazy as this whole night. But somehow, somehow, that little kid knew I’d need it.” He shrugged his shoulders. “It seems to be the new norm with us. But yes. In answer to your question…really.”

Suddenly, words were lost to her, as were teasing jibes and cute jokes. She raised her face, and he gazed into her eyes. Her man. Back from the dead, or back from who knew where.

But most definitely, back.

He met her lips with his. Brushed a kiss onto them, one that heralded promises for a thousand tomorrows. And as they continued the kiss and deepened it, lost in each other, a bunch of little creaks erupted inside the house, as if the wind had started up. Rattling things. Then more, and more. A cacophony of joy, it sounded like.

They broke the kiss as the noises grew, grinned. Then they stood, resting in each other’s arms. Eli spoke. “Do you hear the house creaking?”

She nodded. “I do.”

“Can’t have our house creaking.”

“No.”

“Maybe we should get someone to look at that.”

She nodded, still molded against him. “After Boxing Day.”

“Deal. I did see something, earlier, about Jack’s Bay trying to bring a new development to this ‘hood.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. So if that happens, the whole area’s going to be fresh and new.”

“Hmm. The neighborhood could become expensive.” She snuggled her nose against his collarbone.

“Could.”

“And we’d be in on the ground floor.” God, she felt good. Happy.

“In the only old, dumpy house in the area.”

“Yeah.” She snuggled contentedly into the crook of his shoulder. “In the best house in the area.”

“That’s what I said.”

“Yeah.”

He scooped her into his arms. “Upstairs?”

“Every room, at some point. But for now—the old bedroom will be perfect.”

They moved toward the front hallway and the staircase, still hugging, giggling. Eli tugged at her top. “What’s this thing doing on?”

So she peeled it off as she walked, tossed it, then was clad only in her bra. And he tugged at that too.

“Let me go.” She laughed, felt like she’d never stop, ever again.

“Never.”

“At least until we get upstairs?”

They passed the opening to the living room, and suddenly she stopped, gazed into the living room. “Eli. Look.”

He halted, turned. Murmured softly. “Our Christmas tree.”

And there it was. The scrabbly, old decrepit tree with her creamy scarf wound around its branches. Still standing. Despite what life had done to it.

Even though the hastily improvised bracket holding it up had slipped off, was gone.

It was standing on its own two feet, so to speak. Exuberantly trumpeting the joy of the season.

“It’s beautiful.” She spoke in a reverent tone.

“Only the best for us, right? We don’t settle.”

She grinned at him. “Never did. So…where were we?”

He slapped at her fanny. “Going somewhere important.”

She jerked playfully, unleashed a killer smile on him. “Okay, then!”

“Hey, I got some stuff out in the car I need to grab. You go up and get ready for me, will you?”

She pointed at her barely clothed top half. “I can’t get much more ready than this.”

He eyed her clothed bottom half. “Twenty says you can.”

She laughed. “That’s your job.”

“Well, okay. I’ll go get the stuff, then we can argue about who gets to pull the pants off you.”

“There’s still panties, too. And the chastity belt.”

He gave her a kiss on the nose, drew away from her, went to the front door. “I’ll bring my tools.”

And he was out. Suddenly.

She stood there, smiling at the front door. Yeah, he was gone. He’d left.

But this time, he was coming back.

She ran up the stairs, the happiness and normalcy of everything the only life-giving elixir she needed and wanted.

She had the world, once again. Her ex. A ratty old house.

Life was pretty damn good.

* * *

Eli grabbed his overnight duffel from the trunk, closed it gently. The snow was coming down even thicker now, muffling noise on the street, which had grown quiet. Lights were out almost everywhere and the moon shone in the night sky, threw its faint light on the fat flakes, set them sparkling.

There wasn’t a soul in sight. Just a sleepy street, all the inhabitants in for the night. Even the party animals across the street were quiet, had likely crashed. Eli leaned against the car. Everywhere around him was solitude, and oddly, a sense of well-being. Peace.

Yeah. He was definitely back in Jack’s Bay.

It was crazy to think that only a gut feeling had brought him back here tonight. If he hadn’t had the deep, doesn’t make sense, uncomfortable prodding in his belly, then acted on it…

…though maybe it wasn’t an accident, at all.

He scrutinized the house with a new eye.

54 Home Again Lane stood stalwart against the indigo sky. The wind kicked up again, blew a dusty of fresh, soft flakes over the setting. Onto previous mounds of snow, onto all the houses in the neighborhood.

But somehow, the way everything stuck, and fell on number 54 was…just right.

Where all his dreams had been focused like a laser point three years ago, and where it had hurt like hell to have those gone, destroyed.

But they hadn’t been destroyed. They’d been held somewhere, in a great, huge cosmic reservoir, just waiting for the right moment to be gifted to him.

And to his one and only, Tish.

Contentment gushed through him. Wild how it all had focused around this place. Then, and now. No way around it.

“Crazy old house,” he muttered. “Crazy, freaking, old house.”

The wind picked up around him, swirled the flakes into an animated little dance. He pulled his jacket close, but somehow, he needed to stay out here for a few more minutes, and he wasn’t going to cut this time short. Something was important here. Calling to him.

He focused on the house. Snow eddied around it, played, mischievous. Piled up on its crooked gables, on the funny bit on the side needing repairs. Decorated its slanting roof, slicked its broken sidewalk.

54 Home Again Lane.

Home.

He swallowed, felt the bigness of what he’d just thought, in all of his being.

Home.

And it felt silly, but he didn’t care. Life was too short, too damn good…not to appreciate. He looked the house straight in the eye, nodded. Said the words quietly, barely. But said them, emanating from somewhere deep inside.

“Thank you.”

And he saw it all play out. Whether it was the crazy night, his fatigue, or it really happened, he’d never know for sure. But he damn well knew what he saw that night, when he saw it.

The bones of the old house settled. Here, a window sash came into alignment, there, a door straightened. Old, stale air whisked out through the cracks, and joints came together where they could.

And two lights in the sole string of Christmas lights around the upstairs window started to flash slowly, but surely, back and forth, in the dark night. The only ones on the street. Though there was a huge gap on the left. But it didn’t seem to matter.

Christmas had come back. Come home again…to 54 Home Again Lane.

He went in quietly, smiling, to reunite with his girl.