A Family by Christmas

by Viv Royce

  “You should have been here to decorate it with us,” Casey said. “You shouldn’t work so hard. Daddy said you can’t help it that you have so many orders because your chocolate is so good, but I did think you could have left for an hour when Daddy asked you to.”

  She put her hands behind her back and pouted at Emma, all hurt indignation.

  Emma blinked. What is she talking about? “Daddy asked me to?”

  “Yes, he went into town to mail Christmas cards and he asked you to come help us with the tree, but you were too busy.” Casey kept a stern expression as if she wanted to drill the terribleness of that decision into Emma, then brightened in spite of herself. She stood on tiptoe and whispered as if it was a big secret, “I saved you something, though. You can put that in.”

  He hasn’t been to the shop since the fair. Why would he lie to Casey?

  The little girl ran to a bookcase and extracted something wrapped in pale pink tissue paper. She handled it as if it was extremely breakable.

  Emma tried to wonder what it was, but her thoughts struggled with Grant’s behavior. Maybe he’d glanced in and seen a crowd. The shop had been packed the last few days, also with family and friends of locals who had already flown in for Christmas and wanted to sample the local treats.

  The shop closes at six. I could’ve gone after work.

  Casey darted back to her and handed her the tissue-wrapped object. “Careful, it’s easy to break.”

  “Okay.” Emma sat down on a stool and leaned the object in her lap, peeling the fragile tissue paper away. It revealed a small glass donkey with the sweetest long ears.

  “Daddy bought it for me on a trip. I love it so much. You can put it in the tree.”

  Emma swallowed hard. Casey wanted her to be a part of this, but, maybe, her dad didn’t.

  Just fake a headache and leave.

  She couldn’t bear to stay, thinking Grant didn’t want her here. Her throat clogged, and her fingers trembled. He’s onto me. He wants to put some space between us. I could just melt into a puddle.

  She swallowed hard, driving her heels against the floorboards. Casey wants you to be a part of it. And Mrs. Galloway has probably been working on dinner for hours. You’re not leaving. Just play it cool.

  She reached out to attach the donkey to a branch, close to a yellow light in the string, so the donkey’s glass body started to twinkle with a warm glow.

  Casey whooped and hugged her. “Now it’s even better.” She took a step back and looked at the tree. “Team Eagle’s tree.”

  No. Emma’s heart squeezed. I’m not part of Team Eagle. He didn’t want me here to help decorate.

  Casey pulled her to the table and pointed out that they all had star-shaped name cards indicating where they had to sit. “Fay says it’s like a party. I love parties.”

  Emma wasn’t looking for her own name, but for Grant’s. When she spotted it, she almost exhaled in relief that he was here instead of having run off abroad.

  Why are you so happy? He’s the one who doesn’t want you here.

  The stairs creaked, and Grant came down. He had dressed up in a crisp white shirt and black pants. A black tie and gold cuff links gave his outfit class while the absence of a jacket underlined his casual style.

  The moment their eyes met, they just stood and stared at each other. When he did start to move again, almost brusquely, he acted like he didn’t know what to do or where to look.

  Her heart skipped a beat. Maybe he’s as confused as I am, about what we are to each other.

  Casey pulled at her hand. “When are you going to give Grandma the surprise?”

  “After dinner. First you tell me some more about this special tree. Did the birds also come from abroad?”

  …

  Grant had stayed upstairs too long pretending to have important phone calls, much to his mother’s annoyance. It was a holiday after all, and what on earth could a person have to call people about on Christmas Eve?

  But he had needed the time to pace the room and rehearse. To tell himself that once he came down, he would act normally around Emma. Not do anything on the forbidden list. Such as staring, moving closer to her, hoping she’d talk to him. He’d treat her like a friend. Period. But the moment he had walked down and seen her—the list burned to ashes.

  He was already staring. He wanted to rush over and put his arm around her and tell her what he should have told her right after he had bought the charm. I need you.

  He turned away abruptly and asked Bob something, then ambled to the table and studied the place cards. Good. Fay had not placed him beside Emma.

  But he was opposite her.

  Grant hesitated a moment, assessing whether that was good or bad. Looking her straight in the face, seeing her laughter, the sparkle in her eyes. He’d have to focus on the food on his plate all evening. Pretend it was so delicious he couldn’t take his eyes off it.

  “Ready for appetizers,” his mother called. She and Fay carried out two large trays, one filled with small glasses with a reddish liquid in it and a breadstick laid out across, the other with half eggs filled with some sort of mousse. His father looked at it with disdain, as he wasn’t a fan of fancy food as he called it. He’d rather have stew or even pancakes, regardless of the date on the calendar. Grant suppressed a grin and accepted a glass. “I suppose it’s gazpacho?” He tried a sip. “Nice and spicy.”

  His mother shook her head at him as if she didn’t take his compliment seriously. Or was it a silent reproach for having stayed up so long, almost running late for the start of their family dinner?

  He whispered in her ear, “It’s true. Your gazpacho is better than any I’ve had anywhere in the world.” He was home. At last.

  Emma also had gazpacho, dipping her breadstick into it. There was a hint of darkness under her eyes. Like she hadn’t slept at all.

  Someone has to watch over her and make sure she doesn’t burn out.

  He moved to stand beside her and asked in a low voice so the others wouldn’t catch on, “Are you okay? Have you been working too hard?”

  “No, I’m fine. Everything is fine. It was hectic but—it’s over now.” She twisted the breadstick around in her half full soup glass.

  He nodded. Yes. Rush hour is over. I don’t have to help you with deliveries anymore. I can’t make up excuses to come to the shop. It’s over. A void opened up inside of him, and the darkness outside the windows seemed to seep into the core of him. It was stupid because he had avoided the shop the last few days. Why couldn’t he make up his mind?

  “Wine, juice or water,” his mother called and passed around the glasses. They were heavy crystal, kept for special occasions.

  His father said, “Let’s toast to family and the joy of Christmas.”

  They raised their glasses. “To the joy of Christmas.”

  Grant clinked his glass against Emma’s. “To new beginnings.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  New beginnings? Emma stared into Grant’s chocolate eyes. What does he mean? My new beginning in town? His new beginning in Florida? Or our…?

  No, there was nothing like “our.” He lied to Casey that she couldn’t come help with the tree. He didn’t want her here.

  But if he doesn’t want me here, why is he looking at me like that?

  She held her glass up, toasting the others, repeating well wishes without even knowing exactly what she was saying. Don’t let him confuse you. It doesn’t mean anything special.

  A glass fell and broke. “Sorry.” Fay stared down at the shards.

  “I’ll get a brush and dustpan,” Mrs. Galloway said, bustling away into the kitchen.

  Bob grabbed napkins off the table and dabbed at the liquid that ran across the floorboards.

  Nobody is paying attention now. This is your chance. Emma said to Grant in a low voice, “Casey just showed me your tree. She had me add a last touch. She said I could have done it earlier, but you had told her I was too busy for it?”

  Grant seemed take
n aback. He held her gaze a moment, his expression shifting from surprise to concern. “Yes, I was…on my way when I changed my mind. I lied to Casey because she would be disappointed to hear you weren’t coming. I’m sorry about that.”

  Uhm, that really doesn’t explain anything.

  She gave him a probing look. “You could have asked me and left the decision to me.” She clenched her glass. His questions about her working too hard… “You seem to think I can’t handle my business.”

  “I don’t…”

  Emma looked away. “Never mind.” She didn’t feel better arguing with him like that and besides, his family was all around them. This was a night meant for happiness and togetherness.

  Grant caught her arm. His touch seemed to burn right through the fabric of her festive dress. “I’m really sorry.”

  Emma looked up into his eyes. The flash of hurt there took her off guard and she didn’t know how to respond. “Did Casey make you put up the tree? Is it…connected with too many memories?”

  Grant shook his head. “It was my idea. Casey asked about the golden bird and I found it in the attic. It was among all the things I took along when I sold the house in Chicago.”

  The house where they had lived as a family. “I see.” On impulse she put her hand on his. “I’m sorry that it’s been so hard for both of you.”

  Grant held her gaze. “That’s not it. I realized when I was in the attic looking for the things my feelings about it have changed.”

  He seemed to want to say more, but his father’s voice boomed, “So that’s all cleaned up. Can we go to the table now? My stomach is grumbling.”

  Too bad. Emma pulled away from Grant and let Casey point out her place to her. She listened to the little girl chatter about what they’d be having, how the dessert was still a secret, but she already knew because she peeked in the fridge.

  Mr. Galloway shook his head in mock reprimand, but he smiled. They were all smiling because Casey was happy.

  All? Emma glanced at Fay and caught the tightness around her lips. She must have dropped her glass because she’s on the verge of tears. The bitter-sweetness of knowing it’s the last time they’ll be together like this.

  And Fay wasn’t the only one. Soon Grant and Casey would be on the way to a life full of adventures. Without me.

  If I could just hug him and tell him how much he means to me.

  But not saying it was much easier. Pretending he was just a friend she’d let go. She was good at letting go. How different could it be this time?

  If only she hadn’t allowed herself to open up, to feel, to want. She had just had a taste of family life. And it wasn’t nearly enough.

  …

  Casey had a bit of chocolate mousse on her cheek and a big grin on her face. His daughter was perfect. He was so proud of her and he loved her so much he couldn’t even begin to comprehend it. The food and the wine filled his stomach with warmth, and outside the wind gently rattled at the windows, heaping more and more snow on the windowsills and covering everything with a layer of pure fluffy white. They were together, no need to go anywhere, or do anything. Just sit and enjoy.

  “I’ll read the story of Christmas now,” his father said and got up to get the Bible and read from Luke about how the child had been born in Bethlehem and the shepherds had heard the angels sing.

  Casey listened with wide eyes, her head tilted to the side.

  Grant couldn’t help looking at Emma as well. Was she angry? Her “you seem to think I can’t handle my business” had punched him in the gut. How could he explain to her why he hadn’t invited her over? Yeah, uh, I realized that I like you just a little too much, so I walked away. That would really make it better. You can’t explain. Not without creating even more hurt for her.

  His father asked them to join hands and pray. This time she wasn’t holding his hand. He missed the warmth of her soft palm. How could he leave her behind?

  “Amen,” his father boomed.

  Casey grinned at him, and Grant just knew she had some kind of plan.

  Or had she just made a wish and expected it to come true on Christmas Eve?

  His mother and Fay started to clean away the dishes while his father brought in more firewood which Bob piled onto the fire. Casey pulled Emma to the cupboard to look for board games. It was hot inside and it became even hotter with that fire being stoked.

  Grant collected a few plates and carried them into the kitchen, but his mother waved him back into the living room, saying he had to make sure Casey didn’t choose a board game she was too young for. “I don’t want to see any tears because she can’t play along with the grown-ups. Now scoot!”

  Grant had a suspicious feeling she was steering him toward Emma. He ached for the carefree laughter they had once shared, before everything had become so complicated. And yet it had never not been complicated, because from day one he had known he was leaving. He had even told her. As if spelling it out would lay down some rules and then nothing could go wrong. Think again.

  Casey put several colorful boxes with board games on the floor and was going over them, running her finger over the box and listing why it was fun or no fun. Emma sat on the low stool, watching her and chiming in every now and then with her opinion. She took care not to say that a game was too hard, but still weeded out those that weren’t a good fit.

  She’s a natural with kids.

  “So we could do this one and this one,” Casey decided, picking up the boxes and clenching them to her chest. “They are perfect.” She managed to scramble to her feet with her arms full and ran off to show her grandmother what she had come up with.

  Emma sat up. Her expression turned distant, as if she was still present in the room, but not completely. He went over, not even knowing what pointless thing he could say. Something, anything to get a conversation started. Before he could reach her, she had jumped to her feet and headed to the fireplace. She leaned down as if she wanted to throw wood on the fire. “Let me do that.” He came to her side, but she turned away and went into the kitchen. As if she were avoiding him.

  I have to explain about the lie. He went after her, passing Casey, who came from the kitchen with his mother to lay out the board games on the cleared table.

  He expected Fay to be in the kitchen but when he came in, only Emma was there at the sink, washing her hands. He could still hear the voices from the living room, talking, laughing, and still it seemed it was just the two of them here, in a world of their own.

  A world in which it was very quiet as if everything was holding its breath waiting for him to do something, say the words he couldn’t say.

  She closed the tap and rubbed her hands with a towel. Her profile was outlined against the dark window behind her and he had never seen anything lovelier. How the hair fell to her shoulders and the way she held her head just a bit to the side as she was focusing on something. Ask her how she feels about the two of you. If she’s that special, you can’t just let this slip by. You have to do something.

  His breathing rasped, and adrenaline raced through his system like during emergency proceedings on a plane. Stick to the plan? Abandon it? Those choices determined everything. The survival of everyone on board.

  His little girl, their future. It had seemed all mapped out but now he was off track, feeling his way into new territory. Was he being selfish again, choosing his own happiness over what was best for his daughter? He didn’t know. He couldn’t think.

  He shook his head and darted past Emma through the back door into the cold evening air. He inhaled the chill of the frost deep into his lungs to sober himself and restore that laser sharp focus he applied to his job in the air. Thoughts whirled like the snow, blinding him to the right direction to take. There were no beacons, nothing to navigate on.

  It all comes down to trust.

  Either you back off.

  Or you jump in.

  …

  Grant’s standing there like he wants to run away and never look back.

&n
bsp; Emma’s gut twisted. One moment he came for her and her breath caught hoping he would say something about them, the next he backed away and she was left deflated. This rollercoaster, up and down, a slow build, then a steep drop, could she take it much longer? Let Casey give your present to Mrs. Galloway. It would buy time and Grant could come back when he was ready. He probably just needs a few minutes alone. Leave him be.

  But she didn’t want to walk away. She wanted to be with him. Know what he was thinking even if it wasn’t what she wanted to hear.

  Starting your business, did you think you could do it? No. Dealing with difficult customers, handling a big event—I did it. All of it. I have to tell him how I feel. At least, try to.

  She opened the back door. The jittering in her stomach swelled into a tornado. Go on. He’s worth it.

  She stepped outside.

  The night air was crisp, but the wind had died down. It was perfectly still among the trees in the distance. She took a deep breath and relaxed her hands.

  “It’s okay whatever you’re feeling right now. You’re doing this big Christmas thing for Casey and she loves it.” Her voice trembled a bit and she forced it to sound stronger. “Last year you were in a big city all alone and now you’re here with your family and…maybe you think being alone was easier as you didn’t have to pretend for anyone. But it’s okay. Whatever you’re feeling, it’s okay.”

  She took another deep breath. “We can’t force you to like Christmas. Maybe you would be happier flying right now. But you’re here for Casey, and, like I said, I really think that’s great. Also…” She had to clear her throat. “Your new job and all, setting up a place where you can raise her and…”

  He turned to her in a whoosh. “You know about my new job?” His eyes were wide, almost startled.

  Now he’ll want to know how you found out about it. You can’t give away Fay. Keep it vague.

  “I heard about it.”

  “My family isn’t happy.” Tension lined his voice. “They want to keep me here.”