A Snow Globe Christmas, Tome 9 : Hot Chocolate Kisses

Walking over to Main Street to see the Christmas lights, Alex hunkered in his leather jacket, hands stuffed in his pockets. The air was clear, drawing into his lungs like sharp-edged whistles. But then Colorado was a mile above sea level, unlike his hometown of Chicago. And while he’d anticipated there to be a difference, he’d never expected anything like this, air that froze in his throat, turning him into ice from the inside out.

Overhead the sky was a clear black, dotted with stars so bright in the cold air that they twinkled. Of course, the light pollution was keeping the stars around the edges somewhat cloaked, but straight up above him as he tipped his head back, they were diamond-bright against the night sky. There was a metallic scent in the air that supposedly meant more snow was on the way, as if it wasn’t enough that there was still snow slushed in the streets and piled up in dirty heaps on street corners. But that was Colorado, land of snow, from what he’d read about in the papers.

As Alex turned the corner, the bank clock said it was just below freezing, but gave no indication as to how truly cold it felt. He should have brought gloves. His coat was fancy, but thin, inadequate, but there was nothing he could do about that now.

And nothing he could do about the crowd of warmly dressed people watching the night-time parade of lights as it wove slowly down Main Street towards the train tracks. There, according to the flyer Alex remembered seeing, the parade would go along the tracks and then head up the hill to go through the historic district, where old homes of timber and brick solidified by time were lit up, waiting for the grand procession.

It was all very Christmassy and that was the point. Angela had left three messages on his cell demanding he get out of the house, get some fresh air, meet some people. Each message was followed up by the reminder that he’d not left the dangerous, crime-ridden streets of Chicago just to hide out in his apartment for the rest of his life. Well, Chicago’s streets weren’t any more dangerous than any other big city, and Angela knew that. The problem had been Alex himself, hanging out with a bad crowd, getting drawn into back alleys and dive bars when the hour was way too late for decent folk to be out and about.

She was the one who’d persuaded him to come out west, to Colorado, where she was currently living with her boyfriend, Richard. They were going to be married in February, in a fancy heart-themed wedding and, down to the last detail, it would be organized razor sharp. But for all of Angela’s structured nature, her linear soul, there was love for him in everything she did or said or wanted for him. Come out west, she’d said. You can stay with us or get your own place. Start new. Be where it’s safe. In the end, Richard had gotten on the phone and, in his casual way, said, It’s probably a good idea.