“They won’t last until next week in my desk,” Sara said. “Thanks, Lindsay.”
“My pleasure,” Lindsay replied. “Have a merry Christmas, everyone.”
Soon after lunch Lindsay took off, and Jane and Ed both said their good-byes. Jane gave Sara a hug. “Have a good holiday—and don’t let Wyatt keep you here too long,” she whispered.
“I won’t,” Sara promised.
“What are you doing for New Year’s Eve?” Jane asked, as she hoisted up her shoulder pack.
“I don’t have any plans,” Sara admitted. She thought fleetingly of Luke. He must have found her gift by now, but he hadn’t even called to wish her a merry Christmas.
“My roommate and I are having another party. Why don’t you come?”
“Okay, maybe I will,” Sara agreed. She felt relieved. At least she had someplace to go now. “Have a great holiday!”
Sara went back to work, finished her copy, and then brought it back to Wyatt’s desk to hand in.
“Ready to go?” he said.
“Just about. I made some calls on that story about the dispute between the mayor’s office and the county. No real change. Warren Oakes says the federal agency that awarded the grant finally promised to write a letter to the county, but they haven’t done it yet.”
“Everything slows down at this time of the year, especially in government offices. Stay with it, okay?”
“No problem,” Sara said. “Well, I guess I’ll go now.” She was about to wish him a happy holiday when he stopped her.
“Wait . . . I have something for you.” He opened a drawer in his desk, took out a slender, rectangular package, then came around and handed it to her. “Merry Christmas, Sara.”
Sara didn’t know whether to be embarrassed or pleased. “Thanks . . . but I didn’t get you anything.”
“That’s okay. It’s nothing really. I saw this the other day in a bookstore and thought you might like it.”
Sara tore the paper off. It was a book of photographs by different artists—Ansel Adams, Alfred Stieglitz, Alfred Eisenstadt, Annie Liebovitz, and others. She leafed through the pages. “This is wonderful! Thank you.” She looked up at him, touched once again by his unexpected generosity.
“I thought you might like it. I’m glad.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t get anything for you,” she apologized.
“Don’t be silly. I never expected you to.”
Wyatt put his hands on her shoulders and smiled down at her, his eyes filled with a warm, tender light.
Sara met his gaze, not knowing what to say. But she didn’t step away from him. She felt her heartbeat quickening. Something was shifting between them. She could almost feel herself being pulled toward something new and exciting.
Wyatt kept looking at her, his hands on her shoulders. He moved closer, and Sara thought he might be about to kiss her. She stood motionless, breathless, staring back at him.
Then the phone on his desk rang, and the shrill sound seemed like a cannon boom to Sara. She jumped back, suddenly embarrassed.
“Oh blast, I’d better get that,” he said. He ran his hand through his hair and grabbed at the phone. “Messenger,” he said abruptly. “Oh, hi, Dad.” He looked at Sara and rolled his eyes. “Can you hold a minute?” He covered the receiver. “It’s my father. I’d better talk to him. Have a good holiday.”
“Thanks, you, too.” She clutched her book against her chest, as she stepped away. “Merry Christmas, Wyatt.”
“Merry Christmas, Sara,” he said, smiling at her again. He turned back to the phone, and Sara went back to her desk to collect her things.
Now that was interesting, she told herself, as she walked to her car. Wyatt was sending a message, and she rather liked it. She felt flattered that he found her attractive, even though she suspected that part of the attraction was merely her proximity. But maybe that was okay. She liked him a lot and enjoyed hanging out with him. Wyatt might go to Jane’s party on New Year’s Eve, she realized happily. That could be fun.
Twenty minutes later, back in her apartment, Sara’s heart rate picked up a notch, as she noticed the blinking light on her answering machine. She hit the play button and listened.
“Hi, honey. We just wanted to say hello.” It was her mother in Maryland. “I guess you’re still at work. Don’t bother calling back tonight. We’re just leaving for Aunt Ellen’s. We’ll call you tomorrow morning,” she promised. “Everything is set for our visit. Can’t wait to see you.”
Sara was eager to see her folks, too. The holidays made her a little homesick. But she was still apprehensive about bringing her parents together with Emily. She wished she had someone to talk to about it. She didn’t really know Jane well enough, yet, though she was becoming a good friend, and Lucy was too busy with her own problems. Wyatt hadn’t been very understanding when she’d tried to explain it to him.
She pulled off her boots and took out the outfit she planned to wear to the party—a long, graceful black velvet dress with a round neckline and tight sleeves. She’d worn it last when Luke took her out to dinner in Newburyport.
Luke was the one she could talk to—about anything, really. But he didn’t even want to be friends. He’d made that perfectly clear. Sara knew that maybe she didn’t have the right, but she felt hurt and rejected by him, too. She just had to get used to the idea. Luke isn’t part of my life anymore, she thought sadly.
THE MERE SIGHT OF JESSICA AND SAM’S HOUSE THAT EVENING INSTANTLY brightened Sara’s spirits. She’d always loved the quaint Victorian set in the woods off the Beach Road. Sam bought it at an auction years ago but hadn’t seriously started restoring it until he met Jessica. Though Sara knew there was still a lot of refinishing to do inside, the outside looked picture-perfect. Painted dark blue and trimmed with cream and hot pink shutters, it was a classic “painted lady,” with a peaked roof and a long chimney spouting smoke into the starlit sky.
Tonight it seemed lovelier than ever, decorated with tiny lights outlining the roof, Christmas candles in each window, pine garlands around the porch rails, and a big wreath on the door. Sara felt as though she were walking into a house in a picture-book Christmas story.
Inside, the smells of good food and the sounds of laughter and holiday music greeted her. Sara made her way into the foyer, her arms filled with packages. A band of children, dressed in their Sunday best, ran past, nearly knocking her over.
“Whoa, there! Slow down, kids,” Sara heard Sam say. She turned to see her host and smiled, as he took the packages from her arms.
“Hello, Sara. I almost didn’t see you back there,” he teased her.
“Hi, Sam. Merry Christmas,” she said, as he kissed her on the cheek.
“Merry Christmas to you, too, honey. Here, let me take your coat and introduce you around,” he offered.
Not all of Sam’s eight siblings and their offspring were present, but there were enough to fill the rooms to capacity and set Sara’s head whirling, trying to remember faces and names. She also greeted Grace and Digger Hegman and Harry Reilly, whom she knew from town.
“Hello, Sara. When did you get here?” Sara turned to find Molly Willoughby standing behind her. Molly carried a bowl of cold seafood salad and now set it down on one of the long tables in the dining room.
“Just a minute ago. Merry Christmas. Gee, that looks good,” Sara commented. “Did you make that?”
“My dad did. I made the breads,” Molly said, pointing to another delicious-looking offering. “So, I noticed you’ve been writing for the newspaper. How do you like it there?”
“I love it, but it hasn’t been as easy as I expected,” Sara admitted. “What are you up to?”
Molly shrugged. “Just the usual. Running around. Taking care of the girls. You know how it is,” she said vaguely.
Sara knew she really didn’t. She couldn’t imagine how Molly juggled her many jobs and responsibilities: baking for the Beanery and the Clam Box, catering parties, driving a school bus, cleaning houses, as well as taki
ng care of her two daughters. Sara admired her, even though she was a little wary of Molly’s sharp tongue.
Molly and Sara had both been bridesmaids in Jessica’s wedding party and had gotten to know each other a bit then. Molly could be difficult at times. She didn’t have patience for small talk or people she considered snobs. The Warwicks definitely fell into that category, Sara knew, and now she was one, too. But Molly had a fun side once she relaxed and decided you were okay. She was loyal and had a warm heart, even if she tended to keep it carefully hidden.
“Where are your girls?” Sara asked. “I haven’t seen them yet.”
“Oh, running wild. I’m sure they’re both a complete mess by now and will only show up when it’s time to eat,” Molly replied, with a quick laugh.
“Time to eat already? I’ve hardly touched the appetizers.” Sara turned to see Dr. Elliot.
“Don’t worry, Ezra. We’ll give you fair warning before the buffet line starts up,” Molly said, heading back to the kitchen. “See you later.”
“She’s always had a sassy tongue, even as a little girl,” Ezra remarked to Sara. “Once when I had to give her a shot, she bit my finger,” he said, with a laugh.
“I can just picture it,” Sara replied. She could, too.
“Where’s Emily and Lillian? Aren’t they here yet?” Ezra asked her.
“Emily told me they might be late,” Sara explained. Emily had actually warned her that it might take some time to get Lillian out of her house, since she still withheld her full approval of Jessica’s marriage. Even though Sara had persuaded Lillian to come to the wedding at the very last minute, Lillian had just about ignored the couple ever since.
“Lillian is pulling one of her stunts again tonight, is she?” Ezra said knowingly. “You would think she could put it aside for Christmas.” He shook his head. “I hope Emily has the good sense to just leave her home to pout, if she puts up too big a fuss. I know Emily has waited a long time to spend a holiday with you,” he went on, meeting Sara’s eye. “She’s waited half a lifetime. I’d hate to see Lillian go and spoil that on her, too.”
“I know,” Sara said. “Don’t worry. If they don’t come soon, I’ll go over to Lillian’s and see what’s going on.”
Ezra smiled at her. “You’re a good one. I knew that right off. Even before I knew you were Emily’s daughter.”
“Thanks, Ezra.” Sara felt warmed by his compliment. “I think you’re a good one, too.”
She knew Dr. Elliot had become friends with Luke lately. She wondered if he knew what Luke was doing for Christmas. Had he gone to visit his family in Boston? She hoped that he wasn’t home alone, but she didn’t feel comfortable asking outright and tried to think of some way to work Luke’s name into the conversation.
Just then Jessica appeared, her face flushed from cooking and her long, curly hair springing out from its carefully upswept style.
“Sara, I didn’t even know you were here.” She greeted Sara with a big hug. “Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas. Everything looks beautiful. I love your tree,” Sara told her, tilting her head toward the huge pine. It stood in one corner of the living room, to one side of the fireplace. The star that topped it just brushed the ceiling.
“How tall is that tree?” Ezra wanted to know.
Jessica rolled her eyes. “Very. We even had to cut off a little. Luckily, the ceilings in this house are extra high—”
“Or my wife would have had me cutting a hole in that beautiful new plaster,” Sam said. He came up behind Jessica and gave her a hug. “She just had to have that tree,” he teased.
“It’s our first tree, and I loved the shape. Look at it. It’s perfect,” Jessica insisted.
“It is perfect.” A fitting first Christmas tree for a perfect couple, Sara thought.
They heard the sound of the front door opening, and Sara glanced over to see that Emily and Lillian had just arrived.
Jessica and Sam exchanged an apprehensive look, Sara noticed. Then Sam’s face took on an expression she could only describe as resigned, as he excused himself and went to greet his newly arrived guests.
Jessica lingered a moment with Sara. “Well, they made it,” she said softly. “I just hope she behaves herself.”
“Everyone knows how Lillian gets by now,” Ezra said. “I think she’d have to go pretty far to shock anyone around here.”
Jessica didn’t looked comforted. “My mother always loved a challenge. Maybe that’s why she finally showed up,” she joked.
Emily, Jessica, Sam, Sara, and even Ezra were soon gathered around Lillian, making a fuss over her. “I can manage perfectly well, if you would all just give me a little breathing room,” she said finally, shooing them back with her cane.
She entered the living room and gazed around with a regal air. It seemed to Sara that everyone in the room grew quiet for a moment. She noticed Joe and Marie Morgan, Sam’s parents, had come out of the kitchen and were standing to one side—apparently waiting to greet Lillian, but not looking very happy about it.
“Lillian, you know my parents, Marie and Joe,” Sam said, reacquainting them.
“How do you do. Merry Christmas,” Lillian said quickly. She looked down at her wrist and adjusted a bracelet.
“Merry Christmas, Mrs. Warwick,” Marie Morgan said. “Nice to see you again,” she added, though Sara wondered if she could really mean it. Maybe Marie was just relieved that Sam and Jessica hadn’t been snubbed once again by Jessica’s mother.
“Yes,” Lillian replied, not deigning to return the compliment.
“Sara . . . there you are.” Emily happily greeted her with a warm hug. “You look beautiful. I love that dress,” she said, stepping back to look at her.
“Thanks, you look great, too,” Sara said, with a smile. Emily wore a black velvet skirt and a dark green satin blouse, managing to look casual and elegant all at once.
“Why, thank you,” Emily replied, looking pleased. “Mother always said I cleaned up nicely,” she joked.
“I never said that once in my entire life,” Lillian insisted in a huffy tone.
Emily and Sara glanced at each other and laughed.
“Lillian, would you like to sit down over here? There’s a comfortable armchair with a nice straight back, right across from the fire,” Sam said solicitously, taking his mother-in-law’s arm.
“I suppose I could use a seat,” she said, after a pause. “It could be a long evening.”
“Yes, indeed,” Emily agreed under her breath. “But not quite as long as it would have been if we’d gotten here on time.”
“I think she’ll have a good time,” Sara predicted.
“I think she will, too, though she may never admit it,” Emily replied, looking, with an indulgent smile, at her mother.
The Christmas Eve party was one of the best that Sara had ever attended, even better than the traditional holiday get-together at her aunt’s house. After a wonderful dinner, the entire group gathered in the living room near the tree and sang Christmas songs, while Marie Morgan played the piano and Sam led in his strong bass voice.
Sara sat alongside Emily, sharing one of the music books that Jessica handed out. A few times Sara caught Emily gazing at her fondly, almost glowing with happiness. After the last song, Sara reached over and took Emily’s hand. “That was fun. What a nice tradition.”
“Yes, we’ll have to do it again next year,” Emily said, sounding as if it were hard for her to speak.
“Guess it’s time to open the gifts,” Jessica announced. The children gave a loud cheer, and within minutes, the room was a tornado of wrapping paper and ribbons.
Gifts piled up so quickly at Sara’s feet, she couldn’t keep up with them. Jessica and Sam gave her a gorgeous sweater set, and Lillian gave her a new novel by an author they both admired.
Emily’s box was huge, and Sara opened it to find a beautiful leather briefcase. She had admired the bag once when they were shopping in the mall together, but it was muc
h too expensive for her to afford on a waitress’s salary. At the time, she didn’t even have a job where it would be useful.
“Wow, this is great,” Sara exclaimed, running her hand along the smooth leather. “I can’t believe you remembered it.”
“I thought it might be useful, now that you’re working on the paper,” Emily explained. “I thought that was the one you wanted, but I wasn’t sure. If it’s not right, you can go and exchange it for something you like better. Maybe a knapsack style?”
“Oh, no—it’s perfect,” Sara told her. “It’s exactly the right one. I love it. Really.”
“Good,” Emily said, sounding satisfied. “I have something else for you, too—but I’ll give it to you tomorrow, on Christmas, okay?”
“Sure.” Sara leaned over and gave her birth mother a hug. “Thank you, Emily. I know I’ll use it forever.”
Now it was Emily’s turn to open Sara’s gifts. Sara had bought her a beautiful hand-painted silk scarf that she found in a shop in Newburyport. It was just Emily’s style, and Sara could see she really loved it. Next Emily unwrapped a video.
“Sara . . . what a great present,” she said, holding up a copy of It’s a Wonderful Life.
“I had to get it for you. I couldn’t believe you didn’t have your own copy,” Sara said, with a grin.
“Essential for my old movie collection,” Emily replied, tucking it away in her pile. “Now, what’s this?” she said, unwrapping the photograph.
“Oh, my goodness, you took this at the fair, didn’t you?” Emily asked softly. “And what a beautiful silver frame. Jessica, look at this. Isn’t it great?” Emily held up the photo. “I’ll have to make you a copy.”
“Guess what? I got one, too,” Jessica said happily. “Thank you, Sara.”
Finally Emily came to the gift that Sara was a bit nervous about. Emily unwrapped it slowly. When she opened the binder with the plain blue cover, Sara could tell she was confused.
“It’s some of my writing. The short stories I told you about,” Sara explained. “You mentioned you wanted to read them.”
“Yes, of course. I’d love to read them,” Emily murmured. She looked up at Sara again, her expression a mixture of pleasure and surprise. “What a wonderful gift.”
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