Lakeshore Christmas Read Online Free PDF Page B

Avalon, he still came to meetings for the support, the friendship, the chance to serve others. And sometimes, like tonight, he came to think about things that were bugging him.
    Like Maureen Davenport. He could tell she was not going to be a picnic. She had that whole prim-and-proper librarian thing going on, which only made him want to tease her, undo her hair, remove her glasses and say, “Why Ms. Davenport, you’re beautiful!”
    That was the way it might happen in the movies, anyway. He doubted Maureen would play her role, though. She’d probably just tap a pencil on her clipboard and insist on getting back to work. She promised to be weeks of Christmas pageant hell.
    He missed Mrs. Bickham already. Mrs. Bickham had made his community service obligation bearable, because she’d been so easygoing. Eddie had barely had to lift a finger for the pageant. However, this Maureen chick wasno pushover. She might actually make him do some work. Eddie didn’t really mind doing work, but he’d never been fond of taking orders from bossy females.
    The people around the room came in all sizes and shapes, all ages and all walks of life. They sipped coffee and waited for Eddie to speak.
    “The topic of tonight’s meeting is perspective,” he told them. “Yeah, that’s a good one for me at the moment. I need to remind myself to keep things in perspective. I first started coming to these meetings as a result of a judge’s mandate. I thought I didn’t belong here. The fact was, I didn’t want to belong here. I didn’t want to be a member of any club where you couldn’t drink your face off every single night.”
    Sympathetic murmurings circulated through the group.
    “The judge knew me better than I knew myself. She knew the value of strong medicine—in my case, a lifetime membership in this fine fellowship right here.”
     
    Sometimes when he closed his eyes and thought about that night, those moments of terror, Eddie believed he was remembering it all exactly as it happened. He could still feel the glass neck of the bottle in his hand—Dom Perignon, of course. Nothing but the best on the night he would propose to the woman he loved. It was Natalie’s favorite and nothing else would do. Natalie Sweet. She was the perfect woman—a few years older, a lot more sophisticated, a journalist. What’s more, she’d been sending out “ask me” signals for weeks, he was sure of it.
    He’d planned the evening out. Avalon was the perfect location, between New York City and Albany, where Natalie’s family lived. She thought he was taking her to her folks’ for Christmas, never guessing the surprise he hadin store. He wanted to get engaged on Christmas Eve. He had issues with the holiday, thanks to the way he’d spent all his Christmases growing up, his parents dragging him from town to town with their Yule-themed road show. So to overcome those issues, he would supplant the bad memories with something good. He would transform the holiday from a time filled with painful associations to something joyful—getting engaged to be married.
    He knew about the town of Avalon thanks to his family. The town was the home of Camp Kioga, where his folks used to park him each summer when he was a kid, while they traveled from place to place, performing at Renaissance fairs. Through the years, the town had come to feel like home to him, as much as any place had. He’d even pictured himself and Natalie getting a weekend place here one day. That night, he’d booked the best table at the Apple Tree Inn, the one overlooking the Schuyler River. In winter, the rocks were encased in ice and the banks crusted with snow, sparkling in the light streaming down from the restaurant windows. He’d requested all their favorites for the menu and even gave the restaurant manager a list of songs to play throughout the evening.
    He remembered the expression on her face when she tasted her dessert—a silky eggnog crème brûlée—because it was the same