by Vicki Hinze
“True.” Her mother smiled. “Anyway, I am grateful to you. And so is everyone else.”
“It’s been a privilege,” Lauren told her mother. “I’d forgotten how much all the traditions here meant to me. You were so wise to put them into place.”
“It was your grandfather’s idea,” she said. “We must remember who we were to appreciate who we’ve become.”
“Or to regret it,” Lauren said.
“Works both ways, which was I think his point.” Her mother shifted in the bed. “You know, Lauren, inside everyone is a desire to belong. Even people like Rory, who hide from others most of the year, needs to know he has a place where he’s known and accepted. That’s what these traditions are really all about.”
“I’ve missed them,” she whispered.
“That’s a good thing.” Her mother reached for her hand. “It got you back home.”
“Actually, you got me back home.” She squeezed her mother’s hand. “I never thought of you as frail or vulnerable. When Caroline called, it hit me how much time I wasted, thinking you’d always be here.” She sniffed. “I’m so glad you’re better now and you’ll recover, Mom.”
“Regret is a bitter pill. Which is why we should live creating as few as possible.” Her eyes narrowed. “And that brings me to David.”
“What about him?”
“You still love him. Two kisses on the sleigh ride.”
“I explained that.” Lauren lifted a hand. “It was for apple butter, for Bailey to win the bet.”
“Remember who you’re talking to, dear.” A lengthy pause, then she added, “I know you, and unless you still loved the man, there’s no way you would have gotten within fifty feet of him. Not after what he did. You’ve always been quick to forgive, Lauren, but you’ve never in your life risked a second chance.”
She could deny it, but it would ring hollow. “True,” she said. “You’re right. I do still love David. But he doesn’t want a life with me.”
“Back then. He didn’t think he wanted a life with you. But what about now?”
Lauren thought about it. Wouldn’t he have explained? He had seen the voice mail and text on her phone. If he wanted her now, he would have said something. He hadn’t…but maybe he’d intended to when he’d brought her the yellow roses. She couldn’t be sure, but she had shut him down. “I don’t know what he wants. I do know I’m terrified of putting my heart out to him again and him stomping it.” She paced a short path beside the bed. “I’m not sure I could take that twice, Mom. I’m still not over it from the first time.”
Empathy flooded her mother’s face, and then she hiked her chin and drew her shoulders back. “That’s fear talking, Lauren Holt. Fear.” She let that sink in. “Let me ask you a question.” Another long pause. “I understand it’s hard and the risks are real. But is protecting a heart from what it most wants worth losing what that heart wants most?”
“I’m not clear on what you mean.”
“Protection is a double-edged sword, dear. Isn’t it better to face your fear and take the risk than to fail because you never try?”
“The misery…”
“Subsides,” her mother said. “Lauren, love is too rare and special to squander even a miniscule chance at finding it.” She blinked hard, then again. “The hard truth is, you never know when your last chance for love will be your last chance for love.”
She’d lived love with Lauren’s dad. One day, everything was fine. They were happy, building a content life together. Then an icy ridge road claimed his life, and everything changed.
“Take your chance with David, Lauren,” she whispered. “Don’t assume there’ll be another one. That, my dear, is the pathway to regret unlike any I wish you to ever know.”
She still loved him. After all these years apart. Lauren dropped a kiss to her mother’s forehead. “I love you, Mom.”
“I love you, too, and I want you to be happy.”
“I know you do.”
Her mother’s eyes burned overly bright. She cleared her throat and stiffened her shoulders. “Now, you get over to that dance and dazzle that man.” She tapped the laptop with a fingertip. “I’ll be watching.”
“You and half the county,” Lauren predicted.
“Carter said tickets have sold out.”
Lauren hadn’t heard. “That’s great news.”
“Family, this year, includes the critters. We’ll have to see how that works out.”
Lauren rolled her eyes. “David issued waivers on that, too.”
Her mother giggled. “He’s such a soft touch.”
He was. “He loves Christmas.”
“Now,” her mother said. “He loves Christmas now. Here, in Holt Ridge.”
“Yes.” Lauren draped the heavy cape over her shoulders and clasped it at her throat, then lifted her clutch from the foot of the bed. “In no small part due to you.”
She smiled. “He did seem excited to find his Chrismon on the tree.”
“It meant the world to him.”
“We all want to belong.”
“We do.” Lauren kissed her mother’s cheek, then left for the dance.
22
December 23rd
7:30 PM
The transformation in Community Hall was everything Lauren had hoped for and more. Twinkling lights, the huge tree stuffed with packages underneath, the strands of garland and their dangling bulbs. It looked enchanting.
In a large room to the left, children played board games and Santa’s high-backed chair sat on the far end. It was empty, but his stuffed sack sat next to it, and his laughter echoed to her. He was somewhere close. She peered around the corner and saw Rory sitting on the floor in front of a fake campfire. A kitten rested in his lap and the kids were taking turns petting it.
“The other critters are outside in a makeshift pen.” Barbara Pope stepped up to Lauren’s side, shimmering in silver that matched her hair. “Don’t you look pretty?”
“Thank you. So do you.” Lauren glanced over. “Mom warned me David issued waivers.”
“He did. The children were elated—and don’t you worry. I gave Baxter a good talking to before we left home. He’ll be an angel tonight.”
Baxter? Only if he was unconscious. “I’m sure he will be.”
“He’s in the kitchen with Kenneth. Kenneth insists we serve dinner promptly at 7:45. Something about the sweet-potato casserole marshmallows browning being perfect then and scorched any later.”
“Ah. So, everything is under control?”
“Yes, yes. The teens are helping watch over the little ones during dinner and afterward. Clever, the high schoolers giving them their own space so their parents can dance and enjoy themselves, too.”
“Who is minding the animals?”
“Reverend Wong’s youth group,” Barbara said, turning with Lauren to the main room. “Do you like the centerpieces? I winged it.”
A red rose and sprigs of holly, pine cones, and a white bow. “They’re perfect. All the flowers are.” Lauren smiled. “You did an amazing job. It’s beautiful in here.”
“Everyone told me their favorites and I just put them all together.”
“It’s gorgeous. You’re so talented, Barbara.”
Barbara blushed. “David is sitting right over there.” She motioned toward the left, near the center of the room. “He wanted to know the moment you arrived.”
“Why?” Lauren gazed from the back of David’s head to Barbara.
“Well, I guess he’s just eager to see you, Lauren.” Barbara smiled. “He has been waiting a long time.”
“He arrived early, then?” No surprise there.
“You could say that.”
“Guess I’d better go see if there’s a crisis.”
Lauren walked around the white-cloth draped table, spotted her name on the card beside his. He wore a tux. A black tux with a red tie, for the occasion. Looking at him left her breathless. He started to stand.
Lauren put a hand at
his shoulder. “Don’t get up.” She took her seat.
“You look stunning.” Appreciation shone in his eyes.
“Thank you.” She smiled. “So how are we doing?”
“It’s a win,” he said. “Doesn’t the hall look great?”
“It does.” She scanned the full room, the soft-lit dance floor, the band on the stage.
“Did you stop by to see your mom?”
“I did. She wanted to see me dressed up.” Her mother’s words about taking the chance on David replayed in her mind. “Someone sent her a video. She really enjoyed seeing you find your Chrismon on the tree.”
“That got to me.” He tapped his chest. “I admit it.”
It had. The way it’d gotten to him had gotten to Lauren, too. “We had a good talk about the value of traditions.” She tilted her head. “You never know how much the little things mean to people.”
“They’re only little things to those who have them. To those who don’t, traditions are huge things.”
“Huge?”
He nodded. “Really huge.” He sipped at a glass of wine. “When I found that Chrismon, I knew I wasn’t an outsider anymore. I’m as much a part of this community as everyone else—well, except maybe for your mom, and you.”
“You are,” Lauren said softly. Belonging meant a great deal to him. That was evident. She was the outsider now. She didn't resent it. She couldn’t. She’d chosen to leave.
But she could choose to come back and be accepted.
“It’s special, having a place to call home that feels like home should feel.”
“It is,” she agreed, seeing Jessica and Jason make their way to the table.
A bell chimed.
The music stopped and the mayor took the stage. “Good evening, everyone and welcome to Holt Ridge’s annual Christmas dinner and dance…”
David leaned close. “I hope he keeps it short.”
“If he doesn’t,” Lauren whispered back, “he’ll answer to Kenneth Pope for the scorched sweet potato casserole.”
Their faces close, David smiled, and Lauren smiled back.
“Thank you, Lauren and David, for making all our festivities a success.” He paused and waved. “And thank you to Vanessa Holt, who couldn’t be with us tonight because she’s still vacationing at Memorial Hospital. She’s doing well, I’m happy to report. Vanessa, thank you for your years of devotion to all of us in Holt Ridge. You are indeed our beloved First Lady.”
To deafening applause, David told Lauren, “That’ll mean a lot to her.”
It would. “For years.”
“Holt duty,” they said simultaneously, proving they knew her mother well.
“Merry Christmas, everyone. Enjoy dinner and the dance.” The mayor wrapped up his speech. “And watch yourselves. Our romantic florist and friend has more mistletoe inside this hall tonight than Mother Nature has outside.” He grinned. “You’re a wise woman, Barbara Pope.”
David lifted his hand. “Mayor!” He turned to Lauren. “The announcement.”
They joined the mayor on the stage. David thanked everyone for coming, then motioned to Lauren to take the microphone. “You do it,” he whispered. “Mrs. Wong? Where are you?” He scanned the crowd.
She stood up at a table on the right side of the room. “I’m right here.”
Lauren smiled at her. “Mrs. Wong, you’ve been an inspiration to everyone in our community for such a long time. Thank you for that,” Lauren said. “We understand you’re working on getting your RN degree, and you need to leave school a few weeks before the term ends to do it.”
“Unfortunately, I do.” Clearly, she wasn’t happy at the prospect, or of missing a semester of her job with the children.
“The nurses at Memorial have resolved the timing issue, Mrs. Wong,” Lauren said. “I called Jessica Weaver and, in just no time, she had so many volunteers to cover the days for you, that you can take those two weeks as paid vacation and be back at school in the fall.”
Mrs. Wong’s jaw dropped loose. “Really? All two weeks?” She scanned the faces, found Jessica’s and ran to her. “Thank you, Jessica.” She hugged her hard. “Thank you so much. I can’t believe you’re all doing this for me.” She drew back. “But what about the nurses losing their vacation—”
Jessica beamed. “The administration at Memorial granted paid leave to every nurse doing a day of volunteer work at the school. It’s a win all around.”
“Oh, I can’t believe you people. The hospital, too?” She sniffed. “You’re so good to me.” Tears streamed down Mrs. Wong’s face.
“You’ve touched our lives in many ways, Mrs. Wong,” Lauren said. “It’s a privilege to be able to do some small thing for you.”
“I’m overwhelmed. Just overwhelmed.” She returned to her table, sniffling. “Thank you all so much.” Her husband passed her a tissue.
“Have fun, everyone.” Lauren passed back the mike and she and David stepped off the stage.
“Now that is what life should be all about.”
“She was in tears, David.”
“Happy tears.” He circled Lauren’s back with his arm. “I love happy tears.”
Two bells chimed.
“Dinner,” Lauren said.
Little ones teamed up with high schoolers and made the loop through the serving line in the Hall’s kitchen. In on the right, out on the left with their plates stacked high.
A bark sounded in the kitchen. Barbara Pope’s eyes stretched wide. “Oh, no. I recognize that bark.”
Baxter came running through the main room, dragging a turkey. A whole turkey.
Barbara gasped. “Kenneth Pope, what are you thinking? I can’t believe you gave Baxter a turkey without deboning it!”
Kenneth blew out a forced breath that could raise an ocean gale. “I didn’t give it to him, dear. He snitched it.”
“Baxter!” Barbara went chasing after the dog. “You promised no theatrics tonight.”
“Let him out the critter pen door,” Kenneth called out.
Caroline, dressed as Mrs. Claus, opened the door wide, and Baxter made a clean getaway.
“Watch that turkey streak on the floor,” Kenneth said. “Somebody put some cones down Baxter’s path, so nobody slips and breaks a leg.”
Paul Miller and Binks grabbed a mop and cones that had been pre-positioned in in the corner behind a tall plant. “Kenneth expected this,” Lauren said.
“Actually, I expected it,” David told her. “I was warned.”
“By Kenneth?”
“Actually by Mrs. Claus.” David grinned. “I think she and Rory have decided to ignore the clock and enjoy whatever time they have together.”
That surprised Lauren, and yet it didn’t. “Love doesn’t tell time.”
“I guess it doesn’t,” David whispered.
Seeing the orange cones tracing Baxter’s path, Kenneth said, “I’ll get more turkey.” He turned toward the kitchen.
“Kenneth, wait,” David called out. “How did you know Baxter would do that?” What he was really asking is how Caroline had known it.
“He does it every year at Thanksgiving,” Kenneth muttered. “Rascal dog. I think it’s the cranberry stuffing. Maybe the nuts.”
“How many times have I told you it’s the orange slices?” Barbara countered. “Kenneth insists on putting them in the cavity, knowing Baxter loves orange slices as much as he does peppermints.”
That had eyes rolling and muffled chuckling replacing fears of none of Kenneth’s mouth-watering turkey being available for dinner.
A group of young adults—too old for high school or the youth group—served plates to the adults sitting at tables.
“Who are they?” Lauren asked.
“College students,” David whispered. “I put out a call on the Internet. They came all the way from Nashville.”
“That’s impressive, but why?”
“Extra credit for social services classes,” he whispered. “Though some just wanted to experienc
e a small-town Christmas.”
“Clever, David. I would never have thought to do that.”
“I’m learning that if you just ask, often you’ll find people willing to step up. They don’t because no one asks.”
She thought about that all through their meal. Twice, she made up her mind to—at first private moment opportunity—step up. But one moment and then another passed, and she just couldn’t summon the courage.
After the dishes had been cleared and the music for dancing started, Kenneth invited Barbara to dance, and Jessica and Jason joined them on the dance floor. That left only Lauren and David at their table.
“I’d ask, Lauren,” David said, “but honestly, the leg’s protesting. I need a slow song.”
The hard truth is, you never know when your last chance for love, will be your last chance for love.
Her mother’s words raced through Lauren’s mind. Before fear could rush in and steal her courage again, she acted. “David, I don’t know the details of what happened to us or why you haven’t told me the truth about why you broke our engagement.” He opened his mouth to interrupt, but she lifted a staying finger. “Let me say this. I might not be able to make myself try again.” He remained silent. “I don’t know why my mother and the people here who were supposed to be my family and friends have welcomed you into their ranks—though, seeing how much they mean to you and you to them, I guess I’m glad they have.”
“It isn’t what—”
“Please.” She shushed him with a hand on his sleeve. “None of it matters.”
“It doesn’t?”
“No, not anymore.” She nodded to confirm it. “The truth is, I fell in love with you years ago and, regardless of what happened, I still love you.” She swallowed hard. “Whether or not you want me—which you didn’t—well, that doesn’t matter either. I’ll always love you, David.”
His eyes bright, David brushed her cheek with his fingertips. “Before you say those words to me and I can believe them, you need to know the truth.”
Her heart beating fast, she nodded, not trusting herself to speak for fear he’d quit talking.
“First, there’s never been a moment since we first met that I haven’t wanted you. Let’s be clear about that.” He dropped his gaze to the table, then looked back up at her. “I know you think my injury happened two years ago, right before I came to Holt Ridge.”