Christmas at Holiday House

by RaeAnne Thayne

  “That was likely before your accident. They can’t expect you to put up a Christmas tree in your condition.”

  “Will you at least think about it? After dinner you can take a tour of the house and see what most needs to be done to spruce things up a little. It’s not really all that much. Maybe Christopher can even help you. What kid doesn’t like decorating a Christmas tree? I have a dozen of them.”

  A dozen Christmas trees. Oh, mercy.

  On the other hand, Abby had wanted to give her son a traditional Christmas. What was more traditional than decorating a beautiful old Victorian mansion for the holidays, especially when it was for a good cause?

  Still, she was ridiculously underqualified for such a job. Winnie would be better off with someone else to help her. Anyone else.

  The timer on her watch suddenly went off. “Oh. That’s the turkey. It’s time to take it out.”

  “That means everyone will be here soon. I should probably freshen up a bit before my friends get here.”

  “I think you’re lovely the way you are, but I can help you to your room after I take the turkey out. Just give me a moment.”

  She hurried to lift the giant turkey roaster out of the oven. If she did say so herself, the bird looked beautiful, the skin crispy and golden. It also smelled heavenly. She set it on the counter and tented it with the foil she had already prepared, then returned to help Winnie up.

  “I’ll try not to wake Christopher.”

  “It doesn’t matter if you do,” Abby answered. “He needs to change his shirt and comb his hair, anyway.”

  With Abby’s help, Winnie rose with the walker they had discovered worked better than crutches for her sprained ankle.

  “I can spot you.”

  “Not necessary,” Winnie said as she made her slow, painstaking way toward her bedroom. The walker caught on the edge of the throw rug, though, and she started to stumble.

  Abby hurried to her side. “I’ve got you. It might be easier if I help you. Take my arm.”

  Winnie slipped her arm through Abby’s and hobbled toward her bedroom.

  “I hate growing old,” she muttered.

  “You’re not old,” Christopher said sleepily, appearing at Winnie’s other side. Abby hadn’t even heard her son wake up. “I think you’re perfect.”

  Winnie chuckled. “Oh, you are a charmer, young man. Do you want to know what I’m most thankful for this year? That you and your mama have come to visit me. I love having new life in my old house.”

  After Abby and Christopher helped her into her room, the corgis close behind, Abby took her son into their own room so they could change and she could comb his hair.

  She couldn’t stop thinking about what Winnie had asked her. Holiday House was huge and she had seen only a small portion of it. The task of decorating this massive space for holiday tours seemed so far beyond her abilities that it was almost laughable.

  Winnie needed her help, though. It was for a good cause. She could at least give it a try.

  She had been looking for new opportunities to stretch herself. She just never thought those opportunities would involve Christmas trees and a huge Victorian mansion.

  Four

  “Everything looks so delicious. I can’t

  believe you did all this today.”

  Winnie’s friend Sofia, a cheerful, stylishly dressed woman with salt-and-pepper hair and warm brown eyes, beamed at Abby from across the heavily laden dining table.

  “Winnie called all the shots,” Abby assured her. “I only followed directions.”

  “I’ve learned it’s best in all situations to just do what Winnie tells you,” another friend whose name she couldn’t remember piped up.

  “True enough,” the woman’s husband said with a laugh. “If I hadn’t listened to Winnie, I never would have asked out Teresa. After my divorce, I was done with romance. Winnie kept trying to tell me she knew the perfect woman for me, but I wouldn’t listen to her. Guess what? Turned out she was right.”

  He squeezed the woman’s hand with such tenderness Abby’s heart seemed to sigh.

  She loved seeing people in happy relationships. It gave her hope for the world and hope that maybe she might be able to find that again someday.

  Someday. Not yet. She wasn’t ready for love again. Sometimes she felt like she was still reeling from losing Kevin. She had thought they would be together forever and was still trying to figure out how to rebuild her life without him.

  She had tried to date a few times. Both outings had ended disastrously. The first time, she had been set up by a nurse friend with the woman’s brother-in-law, who turned out to have clammy hands and a nervous tic of blinking rapidly during conversation.

  The second time, a respiratory therapist at the hospital had asked her out, and they had enjoyed a nice dinner at one of her favorite seafood places. Maybe she had a few too many glasses of wine—she wasn’t sure. But when he tried to kiss her at her front door, she had literally been sick to her stomach and had barely made it inside and slammed the door behind her before she’d thrown up.

  Not her best moment.

  She had been afraid to date again for fear of the same reaction.

  Maybe she was destined to spend the rest of her life alone. She could dedicate her life to her son and her career. She had thought about going back to school to obtain her nurse practitioner license. When would she possibly have time to date around studying, working full-time and caring for Christopher on her own?

  No. That would be a convenient excuse to put off dating again. Surely she could meet a nice guy in Austin, one who didn’t make her physically ill when he touched her.

  She wanted love again. More than that, she wanted her son to have a father figure in his life. She wasn’t about to date or possibly marry someone only for her son’s sake, but if she could find a good, decent man who would be a caring father to Christopher, that would be bonus.

  She didn’t have to figure that out right now. She would definitely work on getting them both settled in Austin before she started thinking about dating someone.

  She turned her attention back to Winnie’s guests and all the delicious dishes spread out in the middle of the table, as well as the empty place at the head of the table.

  “Do you want to wait for Ethan before we carve the turkey?” she asked Winnie.

  “No. He probably got tied up at work. It happens. Let’s go ahead, since everyone else is here. Richard, do you mind doing the honors?”

  “Not at all. Not at all.”

  That was his name, Abby recalled now. Richard and Teresa Shannon. The two of them ran the gourmet grocery store in town, Winnie had told Abby when she introduced them.

  She liked all of Winnie’s guests for dinner. There was Mariah Raymond, a single mom with gorgeous curly dark hair and several colorful tattoos. She had a son, Dakota, who was Christopher’s age, but Mariah had told Abby he was spending the holiday with his father.

  “At least I get him for Christmas,” she had said, but Abby hadn’t missed the sadness in her eyes as she interacted with Christopher.

  She had seen a similar determined cheerfulness on the features of Emily Tsu, whom Winnie had introduced as a bakery owner. Emily was around Abby’s age and had brought the most luscious-looking apple crumble pie that made Abby’s and Winnie’s pumpkin pie look pathetic in comparison.

  And then there was Father Elijah Shepherd—the perfect name for a man of God, she thought—who turned out not to be the ancient, shriveled old Episcopal priest she had been expecting but quite good-looking, with honey-colored hair, blue eyes and an impressive physique beneath his collar.

  After five minutes of conversation, she had figured out that he blushed prolifically—and also that Mariah seemed to delight in teasing him to bring out the rosy color.

  Others at the table included another married co
uple, Vicki Kostas and Kathleen Wilson, whom Winnie had introduced as fellow members of the Silver Belles, as well as an older gentleman, Paul Abbot, who had a huge gray bottlebrush mustache and kind blue eyes.

  Abby would not have expected it, but she was enjoying herself immensely. Only as she sat surrounded by strangers did she realize how very isolated she had become in the two years since Kevin died.

  Yes, she still went to work and she still hung out sometimes with a few close friends, but her social life was almost nonexistent, and she had made very few new friends.

  She had missed stimulating conversation.

  Though he was the only child present, Christopher seemed to be enjoying himself, as well. He seemed particularly drawn to Rodrigo, the son of Winnie’s good friend Sofia. Rodrigo was in his late twenties and had Down syndrome. His speech was a little hard to understand, but that didn’t stop Christopher from carrying on a long conversation with him about Star Wars.

  She was half listening to them talk as Richard Shannon finished carving the turkey.

  “Father Shepherd, would you mind saying grace?” Winnie asked.

  “I would be happy to,” the reverend said. “Would everyone please join hands.”

  Abby had just reached for Christopher’s hand on her left and was about to reach across the table to Teresa Shannon’s hand when the front door opened.

  Everyone paused, looking expectantly toward the door. A moment later, Ethan walked in, shrugging out of his coat.

  He looked gorgeous, she couldn’t help noticing. His hair was windswept and he wore a blue dress shirt, loose at the collar. She actually felt a little light-headed.

  Oh, how ridiculous. Yes, he was attractive, but he was definitely not the kind of man for her. Not to mention, he still looked at her with suspicion in his eyes, as if he expected her to steal the silverware right off the table when the guests weren’t looking.

  His grandmother looked delighted to see him. “Ethan, darling. You made it.”

  Another man followed close behind Ethan, and Abby recognized José Navarro, whom she had met once before at Kevin’s funeral. Even if she hadn’t met him, she would have known by the resemblance to Sofia that this was her son, especially when he crossed to his mother and kissed her cheek.

  “And you brought José. How clever of you!”

  Ethan smiled, leaning down to hug his grandmother. “I dragged him away. It took some work, but I finally convinced him Lancaster Hotels wouldn’t fall apart if he took an hour away to have some turkey and pumpkin pie. I meant to call so I could warn you but totally forgot.”

  Sofia Navarro beamed at her son. “Good for you, Ethan. And look, we have just enough place settings since Allison canceled at the last minute.”

  “Sit down. Sit down,” Winnie said. “José, there’s a place there across from your brother.”

  Abby suspected there might be something going on between her notoriously relationship-shy friend and José. She could definitely understand why Lucy would be drawn to the man. He was extraordinarily good-looking, with sculpted features, high cheekbones, his mother’s warm dark eyes and incredibly long eyelashes.

  “Hi, Ethan. Hi, José.” Rodrigo beamed at both of them, his features filled with even more joy to see them.

  “Rod. Dude. Happy Thanksgiving.” Ethan gave the younger man a long, complicated, obviously well-practiced handshake that had Christopher gawking.

  To her dismay, he then took the seat at the end of the table, which happened to be right next to her spot.

  “Hi,” he said to her. “Happy Thanksgiving.”

  Abby could feel her face heat, a curse of her red hair. She and Father Shepherd were a matched set when it came to the blushing department.

  “And to you.”

  That was all she could manage.

  “Everything looks great,” he said.

  “I’m sure it tastes delicious. We were just about to say grace so we can see for ourselves,” Winnie said tartly. “Everyone, grab the hand of the person next to you.”

  Oh, snap. That person was now Ethan Lancaster. She didn’t want to hold his hand but couldn’t figure out a way to decline without causing a scene.

  She took Christopher’s slightly sticky hand in hers again. After a moment’s hesitation, she took Ethan’s outstretched fingers. His hand was warm, the fingers big and strong. Abby tried not to shiver at the feel of his skin brushing hers.

  Abby did her best to ignore her reaction and focus on Father Shepherd’s blessing. She needed to get control of herself right now. She would be here for two weeks and would no doubt encounter Ethan again during that time. She was here to help Winifred, not make a fool of herself by developing a completely inappropriate crush on the woman’s grandson.

  She only caught half of Father Shepherd’s prayer, but what she did hear seemed very sweet and sincere. Though she shouldn’t have been looking, she thought she saw Mariah watching the clergyman under her eyelashes.

  After the prayer, everyone began passing around the food.

  “You’ve been busy today,” Ethan said, after handing her a heaping dish of stuffing.

  “Everyone else brought most of the meal except the turkey and a few of the sides. Oh, and we made a pumpkin pie, but I’m afraid the verdict is still out on that one.”

  “That’s still a lot of work and probably not what you were expecting when you agreed to come up here to help out Winnie after her fall.”

  That wasn’t all Winnie wanted her to do. Did Ethan know about his grandmother’s fundraiser tours of the house? He seemed so protective of Winnie, Abby couldn’t imagine him being thrilled about them.

  “Your grandmother had everything organized today. I was merely the kitchen help, following her directions.”

  “Don’t listen to her,” Winnie said from the other end of the table. “She and Christopher did it all. You all would have been eating canned ham if not for her.”

  “To Abby and Christopher,” Mariah said, lifting her wineglass. Everyone at the table toasted her, as well. Christopher didn’t seem to know what was going on, but he beamed, anyway.

  “To my friends, both old and new,” Winnie said. “I’m thankful for each one of you.”

  “You made a rhyme,” Christopher said gleefully.

  She grinned at him. “So I did.”

  For the next few moments, others around the table made various toasts to things they were thankful for that year.

  “Okay. Enough of this,” Winnie finally said. “This food will be cold if we don’t eat.”

  People tucked into the meal, and conversation became more general around the table.

  “How was Winnie last night? Did she sleep all right?” Ethan asked Abby.

  She couldn’t help but be touched by his concern for his grandmother. “She’s obviously in pain and doesn’t want to admit it. But I watched to make sure she took a pain pill, and she went to bed early. She said she slept soundly.”

  “If you were able to make her take any pain medication, I’m impressed.”

  “I didn’t make her do anything. I suggested it. She must have needed it or she wouldn’t have agreed. I tried to get her to take another one earlier this afternoon, without success. I’ll work on her again before bedtime tonight.”

  “Kudos to you for trying, at least.”

  She made a face. “If I have to, I’ll tell her that if she doesn’t take one willingly, I’m going to slip it into her pumpkin pie.”

  He looked startled. “Would you really do that?”

  “No. But Winnie doesn’t need to know that.”

  He chuckled, and she told herself that shiver down her spine was simply a chill coming in through the huge stained-glass windows in the dining room.

  * * *

  Abby Powell seemed to have amazing skills at managing his grandmother.

  Ethan wasn’
t sure how she did it, but somehow Abby was able to persuade Winnie she wasn’t needed in the kitchen to clean up dinner, that she should instead sit in her favorite chair in the room off the kitchen and visit with her guests.

  He waited for Winnie to protest. Instead, she meekly complied. Richard and Teresa Shannon took the hint and helped her to the chair, covering her with a blanket.

  Winnie must be in pain or she never would have agreed. She would have been right in the middle of the action as the table was cleared and leftovers divided into containers for each guest to take.

  While the Shannons asked Winnie questions about historic holiday celebrations in the house—a conversational gambit destined to distract her as nothing else could—everyone else pitched in to help clean up.

  Ethan washed dishes, his traditional role after holiday meals.

  At first, Mariah Raymond was helping dry the dishes and trying to flirt with him, as she always did. Her phone rang before she really got warmed up.

  “Oh. That’s my baby,” she exclaimed, dropping her dish towel in the drying rack and reaching for her phone.

  As she left to take the call, someone picked up her dish towel. The scent of vanilla clued him in that it was Abby even before he looked up from the dish he was scrubbing to find her standing next to him.

  “You should let someone else do that. I believe we can all agree you’ve done enough today. You ought to be in the other room with Winnie, sitting in the chair next to her with your feet up.”

  “I can dry,” Rodrigo said eagerly. “I do that at home.”

  “Great. Sounds like a plan,” Ethan said.

  “Here you go,” Abby said, giving José’s younger brother her towel. “How about this? You dry and then Ethan can tell both of us where to put things.”

  “You’re assuming I know where things go. It’s been a few years since I lived here.”

  As all three of them worked together, a kind of peace swirled around them. He had always found washing dishes to be a very zen kind of job, for some strange reason.

  “Hey, Ethan. Knock-knock.”