Together for Christmas

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Together for Christmas Page 21

by Debbie Macomber


  “I couldn’t do it,” Brandon said. “I couldn’t leave without you.”

  Was she hearing him right? He seemed in earnest.... “But your...your operation!”

  “It can wait.”

  “Not if he wants to ski next season, it can’t,” the man he’d brought with him cut in. “But he can still make it if he’s on the next plane.”

  “When does it leave?” she asked.

  “In three hours.”

  “I’ll only go if you go with me,” Brandon said. “Do I have any hope of talking you into that?”

  “I—” Her mind whirled as she thought of her apartment, her business.

  “Come here, honey,” Brandon said, reaching for her.

  He didn’t have to ask twice. She walked right into his arms and pressed her body against his, so grateful to see him, to touch him, her chest ached at the prospect of letting go.

  He’d come back. For her.

  “I think what we feel deserves a chance,” he explained, his voice low in her ear. “I don’t want to walk away from it.”

  “I’d like to be there for the operation.” She wanted nothing more than to watch over him, keep him safe. “But I have clients to take care of and rent to pay—”

  The other man made a show of tapping his watch. “Maybe you could join him in a week or two.”

  “Olivia, meet Scott Jones, my agent,” Brandon said. “You don’t have to listen to anything he says. Personally I’m finding that quite liberating.”

  Now she understood why this other person was so upset. Brandon was risking his career by coming here. She grinned at Brandon’s tongue-in-cheek comment but spoke to Scott. “Won’t the operation be over by then?”

  “You could make it for the recovery,” Scott said. “That’s the most important part, anyway.”

  Not to her. She wanted to be there to support Brandon through the whole thing. She wanted to go with him now.

  She could refer her clients to another planner she knew in River City. That wasn’t the tough part. The tough part was paying her rent without that income....

  “He’s right,” Brandon said. “I’m being selfish. I’ve just missed you so much. If it’s too hard, you can come later.”

  She considered the money in her savings account. She’d put that away to get her through difficult times, had promised herself she wouldn’t touch it except in an emergency.

  Was she willing to spend it on love?

  Everyone she knew would probably tell her she was being foolish, reckless. If Brandon recovered, he’d return to his career. But when she was with Kyle, and even long before that, she’d been so responsible, methodical, cautious—and that hadn’t saved her from heartbreak. If Brandon could risk his career for her, she supposed she could risk her career for him.

  “I’ll throw some clothes in a bag. The rest I can handle via the internet,” she said and smiled happily as his arms tightened around her and he buried his face in her neck.

  “I’ll make you glad you did,” he promised.

  EPILOGUE

  Present Time

  “SO WHAT HAPPENED?” Lorianna leaned forward, her hair now dry and her coffee long cold. “What was wrong with Brandon’s leg? I mean, I’ve seen footage of the accident. I knew his injuries took him out of the sport. But why didn’t his leg heal? What did the doctor find?”

  Olivia tightened her ponytail, then turned her mug of tea in a slow circle. She was thinking about how lucky she was to have found Brandon.

  Maybe letting go of her resentment over what Noelle had done wasn’t completely outside the realm of possibility. Noelle had behaved badly and often behaved badly still, but she was so caught up in fulfilling her own needs that she seemed almost incapable of considering the needs of those around her. She definitely didn’t understand that the way she approached life would never bring her the satisfaction she craved. Look where she was. Not only had she lost Kyle, she’d tried to get together with several other men since, none of whom were interested in more than a quick fling. She was working as a day clerk at a gift shop, moonlighting as a waitress at Sexy Sadie’s and living at home. She didn’t even have any good friends. The type of people she associated with came and went.

  Weren’t the natural consequences of her actions punishment enough? Why did Olivia feel Noelle had to be remorseful in order to obtain forgiveness?

  Maybe she was using Noelle’s behavior as an excuse, Olivia realized. It was easier to move on without someone like that in her life. But they were sisters. And what kind of debt did she owe her parents? They weren’t perfect, but they’d always done their best.

  “Olivia? You still with me?” Lorianna prompted.

  Olivia looked up. “Oh, sorry. You asked...”

  “What was wrong with Brandon’s leg.”

  “It was a bone infection,” she said. “Dr. Shapiro wasn’t sure how the doctors here missed that, considering it was so extensive. He had to scrape away the infected area and drain a couple of abscesses. But, thanks to his efforts, followed by some heavy antibiotic therapy, Brandon recovered completely. He has no pain now.”

  Lines appeared on her friend’s forehead. “So it wasn’t his injury that took him out of skiing?”

  “Not really. He could’ve come back for one or two more seasons. He considered it.”

  “Why didn’t he?”

  A sense of warmth, of well-being, passed through her. “He wanted something different by then.”

  Lorianna’s lips curved upward for probably the first time since she’d arrived in Whiskey Creek. “He wanted you, a family.”

  Olivia’s hand went to her stomach. “Yes.”

  “I bet Scott was upset to hear that news,” Lorianna said with a laugh. “I don’t know him well. Jeff had a different agent when he was skiing. But any sports agent who repped an athlete like Brandon wouldn’t want him to quit too soon.”

  “Scott was definitely disappointed.”

  “But Brandon didn’t change his mind.”

  “No.”

  Lorianna pushed her cup toward the center of the table. “How did you feel about his decision?”

  “Torn. If he was going to give up skiing, I didn’t want him to regret it, or blame me later. But I also didn’t want him to take the same risks he’d been taking.”

  Lorianna bit her lip. “And? Has he missed it?”

  Olivia went over the past three years in her mind, examining those days, as she often did, for any dissatisfaction on his part. “I’m sure he has. But he’s never focused on that loss. He got involved in opening the store and giving ski lessons. He even started his own winter camps for kids, instead of just helping out with other people’s, and he still skis for fun. He seems to be...content.” And that made her content, as well.

  After that, they both seemed to get lost in their thoughts, and the silence stretched out.

  Several minutes later, Lorianna spoke again. “So that man who came to the door—your ex-boyfriend—he’s also your brother-in-law?”

  “Can you believe that?”

  “I guess stranger things have happened. But it can’t be comfortable to see him at family gatherings.”

  “It’s getting easier. I believe he’s glad I’m happy.”

  “Is he happy?”

  “I think he’d like to find someone and settle down.”

  “He’s a handsome man. I can’t imagine that’ll pose a problem—once he gets over you.”

  “I hope you’re right. I’d like him to have what I have.”

  Lorianna pulled the top of her robe more tightly closed. “So what are you going to do?”

  Olivia got up to set their cups in the sink. “About what?”

  “Noelle. Isn’t that the person you need to forgive? Because it sounds like you’ve forgiven Kyle.”

  “I’m not quite sure how t
o handle my sister,” she admitted. “What would you do if you were me? Should I let the past go? I mean...really let it go?”

  Lorianna toyed with her belt. “That’s hard to say. She doesn’t deserve it.”

  “Same thing Kyle said. But your husband probably doesn’t deserve it, either,” Olivia pointed out.

  “At least he claims he’s sorry,” she responded.

  “Claims? You don’t believe it?”

  She stared down at her hands. “Actually, I do. He was in tears when he told me what he’d done. I’ve never seen him cry like that.”

  Olivia leaned against the counter. “So...what does that mean?”

  “It means, once I recover from the disappointment, I’ll try to rebuild, give him another chance.”

  After what she’d been through herself, Olivia had a small inkling of what Lorianna must be feeling. “That won’t be easy,” she said as she rinsed the cups and put them in the dishwasher.

  “No. But your story about Kyle made me realize that I don’t want to throw away what we have over one mistake.”

  After wiping off the counter, Olivia went over and plugged in the Christmas-tree lights. She couldn’t say if Lorianna was doing the right thing. Only time would tell whether Jeff was capable of appreciating her forgiveness for the gift it was. But as Olivia stood back and looked at all the twinkling lights, her heart lifted as if it had suddenly divested itself of a huge burden.

  She was confident she’d arrived at her decision, too.

  * * *

  “You’re sure we have to do this?” Brandon raised one eyebrow as they stood on the doorstep of her mother’s house. Olivia was holding a casserole dish, while he was loaded down with the presents she’d purchased and wrapped.

  “Not entirely,” she replied. “But it’s Christmas, right? I want to give a more meaningful gift than a new purse or...or a shirt.”

  That didn’t seem to change his mind. “This is more of a sacrifice than I think you should be required to make.”

  “Anything that doesn’t require a sacrifice isn’t much of a gift. Remember that O. Henry story?”

  “Sure. But when has Noelle ever sacrificed for anyone?”

  “Don’t confuse me,” she said. “My decision can’t be contingent on that.”

  He winked at her. “Okay. I won’t argue. I’m just happy you’re the kind of person you are.”

  “We’re going to have a baby. We want to have good relations with both our families, don’t we?”

  “Personally? I like things the way they are, but you mean enough to me that I’m willing to do anything—even if it involves your sister.”

  Her mother opened the door before she could respond. “Olivia! Brandon! What are you two doing here?”

  “We came over to surprise you,” Olivia said.

  Her mother smoothed the apron covering her black polyester slacks and red sweater. She wore Christmas-tree earrings that blinked, with a matching brooch. “I was just doing some holiday baking. Smells like you’ve been doing the same.”

  “I made some hot crab dip for your dinner tonight.”

  “That cheesy one?” she asked with apparent enthusiasm.

  Olivia nodded.

  “I love that!”

  “I know.” She smiled, but she’d already warmed the dip and the heat was beginning to seep through her hot-pad holders. “Are you going to let us in?”

  “Of course. I just—” Nancy lowered her voice “—Noelle’s home tonight.”

  For a moment, Olivia’s customary reaction to the prospect of seeing her sister nearly got the better of her, but she quickly beat back those negative feelings. “That’s okay. We thought maybe we could all have dinner together for a change.”

  Her mother’s gaze shifted disbelievingly from her to Brandon and back again.

  “It’s true,” he said. “But she gets all the credit. I tried to talk her out of it.”

  He was teasing, trying to lighten the mood, but they all understood that it was basically true.

  “Has Kyle talked to you?” her mother asked.

  “He came by, yes,” Olivia replied.

  “Then I wish I’d gone to him sooner.”

  Olivia wasn’t sure she would’ve been ready before now. But there was no time to respond. Her father spoke up from where he sat on the couch, watching TV. “Well, are you going to let them in, Nancy? Or are you going to make them stand out in the cold all night?”

  At that, her mother stepped out of the way, and Olivia hurried inside to put the hot casserole dish on the stove, where it couldn’t burn the countertop. She’d originally planned to have a talk with her family, to finally sit them down and hash out the past. After that, she’d imagined embracing Noelle and telling her she no longer held anything against her. But the coziness of her parents’ home, and the fact that Noelle, when she walked out from the bedroom area in back, acted pleasantly surprised but didn’t question their presence, made Olivia change her mind. Why go into all of that again? Why cause fresh tears by dredging up those negative emotions?

  “How’re things at the shop?” her father asked Brandon.

  “Sales are strong, considering that we haven’t had a lot of snow this year,” he replied, and sat down with Ham while Nancy drew her and Noelle into the kitchen.

  “Come see the pies I made this morning,” she told them, as excited as though it was already Christmas morning.

  If Noelle had already seen what her mother had baked, she didn’t say so. Like Olivia, she admired the pies, which were sitting off to one side so they wouldn’t be in the way of other preparations.

  “They look and smell wonderful,” Olivia said.

  “Maybe someday I’ll learn how to cook.” Noelle sounded somewhat wistful, which reminded Olivia of everything they’d been missing out on since they’d stopped having much to do with each other.

  “We could set aside a few hours and have Mom teach us both,” she suggested.

  Nancy’s smile couldn’t have stretched any wider. “There’s a real knack to it, but I could show you.”

  “I don’t know when I’d be able to do that.” Noelle sounded genuinely disappointed. “I have to work so many shifts during the next two weeks.”

  “You’ll have Christmas off, won’t you?” Olivia asked. The boutique would be closed—Olivia knew that much—but Sexy Sadie’s stayed open year-round.

  “No, but people should be in a good mood that night.” She shrugged. “Maybe I’ll get some decent tips.”

  Olivia studied her.

  “What?” Noelle sounded slightly defensive, as if she was expecting a comment—but Olivia smiled.

  “I like the way you just turned that into a positive.”

  Noelle pressed a hand to her chest. “You like something about me?”

  Olivia remembered how cute Noelle had been as a young girl, how enthusiastic she’d been about every aspect of life. “I like a lot of things about you,” she said. And then, even though this hug wasn’t the one she’d planned in her mind, she pulled her sister close. When she let go, Noelle looked absolutely stunned. “What was that for?”

  “We’re sisters,” Olivia said simply. “And it’s Christmas.”

  Their mother blinked as if holding back tears, but then a buzzer went off and she rushed to the oven. While her attention was elsewhere, Noelle lowered her voice. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I did what I did to...to you and Kyle. I don’t know why I do half the things I do.”

  Olivia patted her arm. “It’s okay,” she said and, somehow, she meant it.

  “This is going to be quite a Christmas,” her mother piped up, joining them again. “I don’t remember a time I’ve felt so optimistic.”

  With a laugh, Olivia slipped an arm around her mother’s shoulders. “Merry Christmas.”

  * * *

  Wel
come to Icicle Falls

  Sheila Roberts

  Also available from MIRA

  The Life in Icicle Falls series

  from USA TODAY bestselling author Sheila Roberts

  BETTER THAN CHOCOLATE

  MERRY EX-MAS

  WHAT SHE WANTS

  THE COTTAGE ON JUNIPER RIDGE

  THE TEA SHOP ON LAVENDER LANE

  THE LODGE ON HOLLY ROAD

  A WEDDING ON PRIMROSE STREET

  CHRISTMAS ON CANDY CANE LANE

  HOME ON APPLE BLOSSOM ROAD

  STARTING OVER ON BLACKBERRY LANE

  Contents

  Prologue

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Epilogue

  Prologue

  Love and BFFs

  WHO DIDN’T LIKE a cookie exchange? Well, other than a surly teenager.

  Muriel Sterling-Wittman’s little house was filled with friends and the aroma of hot chocolate. And every inch of space on her dining room table was covered with plates of cookies—cookies smothered in frosting, cookies oozing chocolate, cookies with gumdrops peeking out like colored gems. Scented candles added to the good smells, and the room buzzed with conversation as three generations of Icicle Falls residents swapped recipes and gossip.

  In one corner Olivia Wallace was making a face over some cheeky remark her friend Dot Morrison had just made. Muriel’s daughters were gathered around the punch bowl, which was full of eggnog punch, while Janice Lind, the grand old dame of Christmas baking, was holding court on Muriel’s sofa with Muriel, her friend Pat Wilder and Pat’s daughter Isabel keeping her company. Some of the younger girls were hovering over the table, sneaking cookies.

  Normally Pat’s fourteen-year-old granddaughter, Clara, would have been with them, but right now she sat in a chair with her back to the group, scowling like a miniature Scrooge in drag. This was a first. Pat had been bringing her granddaughter to Muriel’s cookie exchanges ever since she was five. And she’d always been excited to be there, happy to play with the other little girls whose mothers had deemed them worthy of the privilege of attending. Instead, here she sat, the expression on her face as dark as her hair.

 

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