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He studied her. “I’m sure that’s true but also not. We all change in some ways. I look forward to learning the current Bebe.”
Her throat constricted. Did that mean he’d be here long enough to learn more about her current quirks, her likes and dislikes? Somehow, she couldn’t imagine Jay in Peachwood long-term.
“Jay...”
“Hmm?”
“What are you hoping to prove? If you want to be my friendand catch up and be present now, fine. We can be friends. We spent a childhood doing so.” She paused, gathering courage to defend her heart. “But if it’s something more you’re looking for, then I would caution you to stop right here.”
“Why?”
She stepped forward, noticing the gap between them and the people in front of them. “Because I’m not the same girl you liked in high school. I’m a mom, and I just can’t jump into a relationship, especially one that has no future.”
He stared at her, but his face remained impassive. Had she hurt his feelings, or was he merely thinking over her words?
“How do you know we have no future?”
“I mean, it’s pretty obvious. I live in Peachwood, and you’ll return to Texas after the holidays.” She shrugged. “That’s not a recipe for a relationship.”
“People do long-distance and get stronger for it.”
“But in the end, someone always moves.”
“I just think you shouldn’t discount us because of our mailing addresses. You’re not God, Bebe. You can’t see the future.”
Her mouth dropped. She wanted to argue, but he had a point.
“Do you have to know the end before you can start at the beginning?” he asked.
“No,” she mumbled.
He smirked. “Sure, you don’t. But that’s okay.” He motioned her forward. “Let me pay for y’all’s hot chocolate. While you’re sipping your drink, think about us. We’re good as friends, but you and I both know we’re much better in a romantic relationship.”
Bebe could argue, but Hope turned around at that moment and spoke. “They have marshmallows, Mama. Can I have those in my drink too?”
“Of course.”
They got their drinks, and Bebe thanked Jay.
“Do you want to sit with us?” Hope asked.
Jay smiled softly at her. “Thank you for the invitation, but Ryan is saving a spot for us. I hope you enjoy the parade.”
“You too, Mr. Walker.”
Bebe let Hope guide her to a good spot along the harbor. Soon, Peachwood Bay’s Santa would ring his sleigh bells, and the boats would begin to float down the canal, showcasing their decorations. There would be a town vote on the best boat décor, and the owner would get a check from the mayor. It was usually a couple of hundred dollars, certainly not the kind of check Jahleel got for playing football, but one that meant the world to the townspeople during the holiday season.
Bebe sat on a concrete bench and scooted Hope close to her. “Warm?”
“Yes.”
“Remember to blow on your hot chocolate.” Usually, the vendor made kids’ cups less hot than the adults’ so they wouldn’t burn their mouths. Still, Bebe couldn’t keep from cautioning her daughter.
“I will, Mama.”
Just then, sleigh bells rang. The crowd gasped as a “Ho, ho, ho” reverberated through the crowd.
Hope stood, attempting to peek around the crowd.
