by Amy Briggs
About the Author
Amy Briggs is a Texas-based writer. Formerly a firefighter and EMT in New Jersey living next to a military base, Amy was initially drawn to creating stories around emergency services and the military and draws on her experiences to show the depth and emotional side of the lifestyle. Her love of fairy tales carries through each of her novels, and she hopes to inspire readers to fall in love with love.
Christmas Lights
AMY BRIGGS
PIATKUS
First published in the US in 2018 by Grand Central Publishing, a division of Hachette Book Group USA Inc. in the anthology Christmas With You
First published in Great Britain in 2018 by Piatkus in the anthology Christmas With You
This ebook edition published in 2019
Copyright © 2018 by Amy Briggs
The moral right of the author has been asserted.
All characters and events in this publication, other than those clearly in the public domain, are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
ISBN 978-0-3494-2171-1
Piatkus
Little, Brown Book Group
Carmelite House
50 Victoria Embankment
London EC4Y 0DZ
www.littlebrown.co.uk
www.hachette.co.uk
Contents
About the Author
Copyright
Chapter One: Samantha
Chapter Two: Jason
Chapter Three: Samantha
Chapter Four: Jason
Chapter Five: Samantha
Chapter Six: Jason
Chapter Seven: Samantha
Chapter Eight: Jason
Chapter Nine: Samantha
Chapter Ten: Jason
Chapter Eleven: Samantha
Chapter Twelve: Jason
Chapter Thirteen: Samantha
Chapter Fourteen: Jason
Chapter Fifteen: Samantha
Chapter Sixteen: Jason
For everyone willing to believe in
Christmas and all its magic, even
when life makes it hard.
Chapter One
Samantha
It was that time of year again. The annual pep talk with my sister, Robin, about the holidays. “We go through this every year, Sam,” she said in a motherly tone.
“What?” I asked, only half listening and still looking through my closet. I was thinking about how my wardrobe needed an update, not just for the winter weather ahead of me.
“You are always freezing when you get here,” she teased.
“I could have thirty-two layers on, and I’d still be cold in Massachusetts in the winter, Robin. I live in Florida. Come on. You were born a Floridian. I don’t know how you manage to function at all in that weather after growing up here.”
We were both born and raised in Florida, went to college in Florida, and we were Southern through and through. So the fact that she was lecturing me was even more annoying than the thought of freezing to death over Christmas.
“It wasn’t easy at first.” She chuckled. We have had this banter every single year during the holidays since she moved away, and it was tradition at this point. “Anyway, just remember it’ll be cold.” Changing the subject, she brought up one of the only topics about my annual trip to the tundra that brought a huge smile to my face. “The kids are excited to see you.”
Robin always tried to lift me up during the holidays; she made it her job. She wanted me to enjoy the season even if it wasn’t really my thing anymore. My nieces were eight-year-old twins, and they were absolutely hysterical. I did love playing in the snow with them every Christmas. It was usually the highlight of my trip, even if I was a human icicle. Each year, they were turning from babes into little women, and I definitely didn’t want to miss that. Playing with them and establishing myself as the cool aunt was worth the trip all on its own.
“Tell those little pretties that I can’t wait to see them. They’re going to be performing this year, right?”
“Yes, they are, and they’re so excited to show you their costumes. But I’ve been sworn to secrecy. They asked me not to give you any details so that they could share everything they’re up to themselves. They were very specific with me about this. They’re basically turning into eight-year-old teenagers.”
I laughed. “I can’t wait to see them.”
“Well, I can’t wait to see you. When do you get here? Are you sure you don’t want me to pick you up?”
“My flight gets in at around noon on Thursday, and I should be at your house by early afternoon if all goes well. Don’t use up time off for that. I’d rather we got to spend time together when you’re on vacation.”
“Sounds good.” She paused. “I’m really glad that you are staying longer this year. I miss you, Sam,” she said softly. “I promise that we’re going to have a great time, and make some new memories, okay?”
“I miss you, too, Robin. I’m looking forward to some quality time with my sister. It’s been far too long. This year, we’ll have lots of time to catch up over hot toddies and cookies when I get there, I promise.”
“Okay, I’ll see you soon. Love you!” she shouted, emphasizing the you dramatically, making me giggle.
“I love you, too, dork.” I hung up the phone grinning, dreading the season a smidge less.
As much as I didn’t love flying all the way to Friendship, Massachusetts, every December, it kept me celebrating Christmas, even if I was phoning it in emotionally a good chunk of the time. If it weren’t for my sister pulling me back in, I’d probably just order Chinese food and read books instead of acknowledging there was even a holiday happening around me. In fact, just hearing people say “Merry Christmas” made me sad, and I usually replied with a simple “Thanks, you too” instead of saying it back. Saying it was disingenuous; I didn’t say it because I didn’t feel it.
It had been my mom’s favorite time of year, and she and my dad had made a big deal out of the holidays. Even though we lived in Florida and many people felt the warm weather wasn’t festive, she’d wrap the palm trees in Christmas lights and put out every decoration she could find. Her stash had grown to epic proportions over the years. We had one of those National Lampoon decorated houses, the kind that blinded the neighborhood with twinkle lights, and a yard full of decorations from blow-up Santas to flamingos with Santa hats.
Planning the trip brought me back to my favorite memory of Christmas with my parents. It was when I was around twenty-two, my senior year of college. I came home for the holiday break, and they’d filled the entire yard with snow they’d had brought in for my arrival. I only went to college in northern Florida—it wasn’t like I’d been gone across country or anything—but they wanted to surprise me nonetheless. I didn’t even know that was something that could be done. They had it timed perfectly, and when I pulled into the driveway, my sister and my parents were beside themselves with laughter. I remember thinking that I had the coolest family in the universe. I mean who would go through the trouble of filling their front yard with shaved snow, knowing that it would almost certainly melt by the next day? My parents did. They were over the top in the best of ways, and making my sister and me laugh and smile was always the end game.
The more I reminisced, the less I wanted to celebrate. I stared at the hanging clothes while standing in front of my closet, knowing full well I had no decent winter clothes to speak of, and the sadness and anger took hold again, like always.
Christmas was devalued to becoming nothing more than a reminder of my parents’ absence. It had been five years, which wasn’t long to me, and I hated the thought of pretending to be full of joy. Part of me knew that was ridiculous, but my solitary life had become my security blanket. In that moment, all I wanted to do was call my mom, of course. Instead, I made a note to try braving the crowds at the mall for a new coat before I left.
Chapter Two
Jason
I was working on my single-engine plane, tinkering as usual, listening to Emily sing Christmas carols while running around the hangar. It was getting to be about dinnertime, and I needed to wrap things up, but I kept stopping to enjoy her songs. Her tiny voice belted out “Jingle Bells” as loudly as she could and reverberated around the hangar and brought a smile to my face. I loved hearing her sing. As I put down my wrench to rub my hands together, I noticed that the cold weather had started to become biting. It was going to be one of our coldest winters.
“Em?” I called out, not entirely sure where she was although I could certainly hear her caroling.
“Present!” she yelled back. We’d established that as our code for calling out to each other from the time she could talk. I couldn’t even remember how it started, but she’d always announce herself as present if her name came up or was called out.
“You cold?” I yelled out. I had bundled her up in her favorite pink scarf with matching gloves and hat and a very loud hot pink puffy coat she insisted on having. I never imagined that my life would ever contain so much pink. She was probably sweating under everything I’d layered on her tiny body, but you could never be too careful.
“Nope!” she yelled back again. She clearly didn’t want to be bothered with her boring dad’s questions.
“You want to get our Christmas tree tomorrow?” I called out, grinning. I knew that would cause her to come running.
Suddenly skidding to a halt in front of me in all her pink, puffy glory, blond curls peeking out from under her hat, Emily placed her hand dramatically on her little hip. “Well it’s about time, Daddy. I thought you’d never ask. I mean Christmas is in, like, one week. Sheesh.” Her pink lips turned into a smile.
“It’s more than a week away. Come on now,” I replied.
“Listen, Dad, I’m just saying, the good ones could be gone by now, and it’s not our first rodeo.” She started to giggle. She was always cracking herself up, which in turn made me laugh all the time.
Putting my tools away in their box, I turned back to her, opening my arms for a hug. As she jumped into them, I squeezed her a little too tightly, causing her to let out a little squeal.
“Dad! You’re squishing me! Put me down!” she cried out.
“Okay, okay.” I gently set her down and kneeled down to her level. “You know I can’t help it. You’re getting so big, I just want to enjoy every minute of hugging you. When did I stop being Daddy and become just Dad?” She was growing up so fast that I could hardly stand it. It seemed like just yesterday she was learning to walk, and now she was running circles around me.
“Oh, Dad, you’re so dramatic. You’ll always be my daddy, but I’m a big girl now,” she said with a little eye roll and a huff. Talk about dramatic; she didn’t get that sass from me, that was for sure.
“All right, well, let’s get home and get some dinner. We can talk about what kind of tree to get this year after you do your homework,” I replied.
“Can we have mac and cheese for dinner?” she asked as she grabbed my hand and started pulling me toward our truck.
“Mac and cheese again? How about we try having some vegetables in our life, kid.” I knew this was a losing battle, but I had to try.
“How about we just have mac and cheese?” She grinned at me, knowing she would likely win this game tonight. I wanted to be a good dad. I had no idea what I was doing half the time, but she was an easy kid. Always well behaved, sweet, and kind to others, what more could I ask for really?
After we got buckled in, I peered in the rearview mirror at her in the backseat. “You want to go out for dinner instead?” I didn’t really feel like cooking, and this way we could have the best of both worlds.
Her tiny lips curled into a smile again. “Can we go to the Wallflower?” She raised her eyebrows at me expectantly.
Knowing that diner was where she’d want to go, and where I also wanted to go, I nodded my approval. “Anything for you, kid.”
Our little town of Friendship was small, and it didn’t take long to get there. I noticed a homeless man sitting outside on the bench between the diner and the teashop next door. It was too cold to be fending for yourself out there, especially at night. As I opened the door to let my little lady in, I made a note to order him some food on our way out.
I waved to a few of the locals I knew, and Emily skipped around the diner hugging folks and saying hello while I grabbed us a booth.
“How’s it going, Jason?” she asked me, pen in hand. Her bright red hair was piled on top of her head in an old-fashioned bun, pulling tightly at the wrinkles that time had offered.
“It’s good, Diana. Hey, question for you,” I began.
“Sure, what is it?”
“That man outside, I’ve never seen him before, have you?” As I leaned back, I could see him on the bench, sitting quietly. He wasn’t begging or anything, but he did look cold, and his matted hair and beard appeared as if he’d been on the streets a while. Friendship wasn’t a place that had many people in his situation, and I’d never seen anyone homeless in our little town before.
Diana leaned forward to peek out the large glass front window. Shaking her head, she replied, “Nope. I’ve never seen him before. I’ll have to call the cops to have him removed. We can’t have bums sitting outside the diner scaring customers off. I hope this isn’t going to be an issue in this town like it is in the city.” She huffed.
“No, wait. It’s almost Christmas. And maybe he’s just passing through. Can you put a holiday plate together for him and put it on my tab? You can make it to go.” I wasn’t going to give the guy money so he could go blow it on booze and such, but I wanted to do something to help him out.
Diana nodded without reply and gave me a small smile. She was born and raised in Friendship, and while her disdain for the man outside was evident, I knew she was a good person and would take care of the meal as I asked without question.
Emily finally came to take her seat and began sipping the chocolate milk I’d ordered for her. “What were you talking to Diana about?” she asked me.
She was so young and innocent that I was tempted to lie, not wanting to draw attention to the man outside. But I never lied to her, and as sad as it was that the man clearly didn’t have a home of his own, I was honest. “I was talking to Diana about getting the homeless man outside some dinner.” I paused, waiting for the barrage of questions I expected. Sometimes her curiosity could be overwhelming. Emily surprised me, though, and asked me a question that made me realize I hadn’t done such a bad job raising her alone after all.
“May I please give him my dinner too? And I think he probably needs some pie, because it’s the best pie. And also, in case he needs something for later, because everyone needs a snack at bedtime.” Her steely blue eyes met mine, and I had to fight back the tears I felt forming.
“You know what, Emily? We’ll order him what you’re having too. You need to eat some dinner, but I promise, on our way out, we’ll make sure he’s got a hot meal and a sweet treat to have before bed, too, okay?”
“Thanks, Daddy.” She sent her sweet smile across the booth to me, and as my thoughts shifted to how this man ended up in our little town, I decided I was going to make sure he had what he needed to get by through the holidays. It was the least
that Emily and I could do, as fortunate as we were. After all, it was the season of giving.
Chapter Three
Samantha
I’m fairly certain that the chill hit me before the plane even landed, while we were just descending into the great Northeast. It was an uneventful flight thankfully, and we touched down in Massachusetts right on time.
I was spending two weeks in Friendship, which was quite a bit longer than usual, but I missed my sister, and it had been an entire year already since we’d seen each other. She was taking most of the time off as well, leaving plenty of time to relax, chat, and participate in the numerous holiday activities. Since it was the middle of the day and the family was still working, I got my own ride to Robin’s house. Even though I live over a thousand miles away, I still had my own key. I’d planned to drop my bag off and then head right back out to Main Street and pick up a few winter items.
I’d attempted to find a few warm items at the mall in Florida, but it was a wasted trip. I always found it strange that you could buy sweaters and coats in Florida. The stores changed out their inventory as if it were going to get cold, even though it never did. What they didn’t carry, though, were clothes warm enough to keep you toasty in New England. Sure, I could have ordered some things online, but I liked Robin’s downtown strip, and I loved supporting local businesses instead of the big-name manufacturing companies. And after the long flight, I knew it would be nice to walk around as well.
Friendship was exactly what you would envision if someone said to you, “New England at Christmas.” It reminded me of a holiday card with its small shops and local businesses that had been passed down from generations in many cases. There was a small pond near the center of the town that you could actually skate on when it froze over, and they held a Christmas tree lighting each year in the square. The entire two weeks leading up to Christmas in Friendship was filled with choir concerts, the annual Christmas play, as well as a little winter wonderland downtown chock full of things for the families to do together. My nieces would be performing in the concert, and their enthusiasm was always contagious even for a scrooge like myself. Thank goodness for the joy of children at Christmas.