by Donna Hill
Miranda lifted the blanket from the sofa and wrapped it around her shoulders. Then, summoning more courage than she’d had to in years, climbed the couple of steps leading from the sunken living room and headed straight for the one place in the house that she’d most avoided. She walked up to the Christmas tree, her eyes zeroing in on the Batman ornament. It hung so innocently from the flocked branch. Miranda let the ornament rest in her palm, studying it for several moments before allowing it to fall back into place.
Kyle came up behind her, but he remained silent. When his hands came up and clasped her upper arms, she flinched just a bit.
“Miranda?” He spoke her name so softly, as if he thought anything louder would break her.
For a moment, Miranda thought the same. But she was stronger than she’d given herself credit for all these years. It wouldn’t break her to talk about them.
She’d made her decision. In the moments as she listened to Kyle talk about the fight with his father, and told him how foolish it would be to let it ruin their relationship, Miranda recognized just what she’d allowed her own memories to do to her for the past decade and a half. She’d allowed the tragedy of one night to obliterate years of good memories.
“My little brother had one like this,” she said, brushing her finger along the plastic Batmobile. “My brother and I used to collect the Hallmark ornaments. There was always a new one every year. I’m not sure if the company still does that or not, but it was a big deal in my family.”
“I don’t know,” Kyle said. “My sister gave this one to me after finding it at a garage sale. She remembered how much I loved Batman as a kid.” He paused for a moment, and then in a voice threaded with caution, he asked, “What happened to your brother’s?”
Miranda swallowed, closing her eyes tightly before opening them again. She stared at their reflection in the window, grabbing hold of Kyle’s gaze.
“It burned in the fire,” she said. “Along with my family.”
She felt Kyle stiffen.
Moments passed. Long, heart-wrenching moments. Miranda braced herself for a tsunami of pain, but it didn’t come. She didn’t feel pain; all she felt was the overwhelming urge to talk. To finally give voice to the tragedy that had changed her life forever.
She turned to face Kyle.
“In my family, it was always the tradition to decorate the Christmas tree just after Thanksgiving, but we wouldn’t turn the lights on until a few days before Christmas. It was some superstition my mom had. It’s the way she and her family always did it when she was growing up.”
Miranda took a moment to swallow past the lump that began to form in her throat. She could hear her mom chastising both Miranda and her little brother about plugging in the Christmas lights, claiming it was bad luck to light the tree too early.
“The year I turned fifteen, I missed the annual lighting of the tree,” she continued. “My best friend, Rondalyn, invited me to a sleepover. I knew my mom was hurt that I wanted to skip the tree lighting, but she didn’t say anything when I asked to spend the night at Rondalyn’s.”
She paused. Breathe in. Breathe out.
“I—” She cleared her throat. It had been years since she’d uttered a single word out loud about the incident, and while it wasn’t as hard as she thought it would be, it was still undeniably difficult. “I didn’t find out about the fire until the house had nearly burned to the ground,” she continued. “My next-door-neighbor, Mrs. Caldwell, started screaming when she saw me running down the street in my bare feet and flannel Santa Claus pajama pants. She thought I was a ghost. Everyone assumed I’d been in the house, too.”
“My God,” Kyle said. He pulled her into his arms and squeezed her so tight Miranda couldn’t breathe—or was that because she’d just talked about the tragic night that had forever scarred her?
“This happened when you were fifteen?” he asked.
She nodded.
“That’s so young, Miranda. Who took care of you?”
She swiped at a wayward tear that had managed to escape the corner of her eye. “I went to live with my grandparents until I graduated high school, but they both died within a year of each other while I was studying at Ohio State. I’ve been on my own ever since.”
Kyle pressed a kiss to the crown of her head. “I am so sorry. I knew something bad had happened. I could tell from the way you reacted when you saw the ornament this morning, but I never expected anything like this. This is more than anyone should ever have to deal with, and for you to go through it at fifteen?”
He choked up on the last word, and Miranda felt her own throat tighten with gratitude at his empathy.
She looked up at him. “I can’t help but think that if I had never gone to Rondalyn’s, maybe I could have saved them.”
“More than likely, you would have died in the house, along with them,” he pointed out.
She released a deep breath, then spoke the truth. “I’m not so sure that would have been a bad thing.”
The pain that slashed across Kyle’s face was raw and honest and brutal. “Never say that,” he said, his voice rough with emotion.
“But that’s how I’ve felt so many times over the years,” she said.
“You can’t blame yourself for what happened, and you can’t feel guilty for living, Miranda.”
“I’ve blamed everybody. I blamed myself for not being there. I blamed my parents for allowing me to go to Rondalyn’s. I blamed her for inviting me over for a sleepover in the first place. I didn’t talk to her at all after the fire. She was my best friend, and I completely cut her out of my life.” Miranda shook her head. “A couple of years ago—the last time I told myself that it was time to finally move past this—I tried to contact her. I found out that she’d died from breast cancer the year before.”
“My God,” Kyle said, pulling her to him again.
“Yeah, my life is chock-full of regrets.”
Kyle smoothed a hand down her hair, then brought it up to her cheek. He passed his thumb back and forth over her skin. “Did they ever figure out what started the fire?”
She nodded. “According to the fire investigators, a faulty light on the Christmas tree provided the first spark,” she said.
He whispered a curse. “God, Miranda, I’m so sorry.”
“It hasn’t been easy,” she admitted. “I’ve come to understand that this isn’t the kind of thing you ever fully get over, but I no longer want it to consume me. I reached a crossroad this year. That day we spent together in Istanbul was the fifteenth anniversary of the fire. I’ve now been without my family for longer than I was with them.”
“That’s a pretty significant anniversary.”
“Yes,” she said with a nod. “I have to make a decision. I have to decide if I will let this tragedy dictate the rest of my life, the way it’s dictated the last fifteen years, or if I’ll finally allow myself to move on.”
“And?” Kyle asked, his voice barely a whisper.
In the most earnest voice she could muster, she said, “I want to move on. I want to love Christmas again. It was always the best time, and I miss it.”
“So, why haven’t you celebrated it, Miranda?”
“For so long, it’s felt wrong for me to feel happiness at Christmas. How can I, when it took my family away from me? I shouldn’t feel joy when I look at this Christmas tree—I should feel rage.” She looked up at him. “But I don’t anymore. I look at this ornament, and I remember the way Kevin’s eyes lit with excitement when my mom gave it to him to hang on the tree.”
“Joy is what you should feel, Miranda. That’s what this holiday is all about.”
Kyle captured her upper arms in his hands and looked her directly in the eyes.
“What would your family want?” he asked. “Would they want you never to celebrate this holiday that meant so much to them, or would they want you to move on?”
Miranda couldn’t speak. The collection of sorrow, hope, and cautious joy rioting through her was almost
too much for her to handle.
“They would want me to move on,” she finally managed to whisper.
“Yes, they would.” Kyle kissed her forehead, then dipped his head again so that he could look her in the eyes. “It’s not too late to make new memories. Christmas will never be what it was when you still had your family, but it can still be special. Let this be your new beginning. Let this year be the start of something new and wonderful.” He captured her chin between his fingers and lifted her face. “And let me join you on this new journey.”
Her heart was so full, it felt on the verge of bursting.
She wanted this. She wanted him. This man who’d caught her eye in the middle of a crowded market just a few short days ago. This man who was only supposed to be a passing fling. He’d come to mean so much more than she’d ever imagined.
Maybe it was fate that had brought them together. Maybe it was just coincidence. But it didn’t matter how they got here, only that they were here now. She was exactly where she wanted to be in these hours before Christmas Day arrived. And, suddenly, all Miranda could think of was how much she wanted to be here with him for many more Christmases to come.
She captured Kyle’s face between her palms and pulled him to her.
“Yes,” Miranda softly whispered against his lips. “Please come with me on this journey. It would be the best Christmas present I could ever hope for.”
* * *
Kyle stood in front of his huge computer screen, a smile drawing across his face as his niece panned the living room with her iPad. It was nearing midnight in Chicago, and everyone was in pajamas, waiting for the clock to strike twelve so they could open their gifts.
The look on his mother’s face, like she wanted to both laugh and sob, caused a deep ache to settle in Kyle’s chest. In that moment, he finally understood what his decision to skip Christmas had done to her.
Yet, Kyle couldn’t regret it. If he’d gone to Chicago instead of Istanbul, he never would have met Miranda. And meeting her was, without a doubt, the best thing to have ever happened to him.
Kyle couldn’t help but think that everything that had happened this past week was all part of a divine plan—a miraculous Christmas gift that was meant to be cherished for the rest of his life.
“I’m sorry I’m not there,” Kyle said. It wasn’t a total lie. He was sorry he wasn’t at home with his family. They would all love Miranda. Hopefully, next year, they would both be there.
He swallowed deeply. “Um, Jayden, can you hand the iPad to Grandpa?” Kyle waited until his father’s face came upon the screen. “Hi, Dad,” he said. “Do you, uh, mind going somewhere a bit more private?”
Silence fell on both sides of the electronic devices. Kyle knew this wasn’t the best time to do this, but he also knew that he would never be able to enjoy his Christmas Day if he didn’t address this issue here and now. After hearing what Miranda had endured and seeing the courage in which she made the decision to let go of the demons of her past, Kyle knew that he could not allow this to fester any longer. She’d lost her entire family in one night. He still had his. He owed it to Miranda to do whatever he could to mend the riff between him and his father before it caused even more pain to his family.
The screen shook slightly as his father rose from where he sat and carried the iPad into the formal dining room. Kyle heard the door click, then stared as his dad took a seat at the table and balanced the iPad at a slight angle.
“Yes, son?” his father said.
“I’m sorry,” Kyle opened. He swallowed. “Back at Thanksgiving, I said some things that I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry for being so disrespectful to you, especially in your own home. You didn’t raise me to be that way.”
His father nodded.
“I’m . . . um . . . I’m sorry for some of the things I said, too,” his father said. “You’re a grown man. You can do whatever you want to do with your life. Even if you want to make beer.”
A smile tipped up the edge of Kyle’s mouth.
“I don’t just want to make beer,” Kyle said. “I plan to do more. But I don’t want you to think I’m a coward, Dad, because you didn’t raise me to be that way, either. I didn’t sell my company because I was scared. I sold it because it’s what was best for the company and for my employees. I sold it, in part, because the people who bought it had the means to grow it into something bigger and better than what I could do on my own.”
“Son, it doesn’t matter what I think—”
“Yes, it does,” Kyle said. “There are very few things in this world that matter more to me than what you think. It’s always been that way. Making you proud has always been one of the most important things to me.”
“Never doubt how proud I am of you, Kyle. No matter what gets said, you should never, ever doubt that you are the best part of your mother and me. Never forget that.”
It was hard to swallow past the lump of emotion lodged in his throat.
“Thanks, Dad,” Kyle finally managed to get out.
“Merry Christmas, son. We miss having you here.”
“I miss being there,” he said. “I’ll try to make it out there for Mom’s birthday in a few weeks. But don’t tell her—I want it to be a surprise.”
“Please come for her birthday. Maybe then she’ll stop giving me those looks she’s been sending my way all week. If there weren’t so many people needing a place to sleep, I’m sure I would be on the couch.”
Kyle laughed. “Make sure to tell her that everything is all right now.”
“I will,” he said. “I love you, son.”
Kyle cleared his throat. “I love you, too, Dad. Give everyone a hug from me.”
He disconnected the video call and released a sigh.
“Is that it?”
Kyle looked up to find Miranda standing just outside the door. She pushed it, coming inside.
“Was that really all it took?” she asked.
Kyle nodded. “That’s all it took. We were both being stupid and stubborn to begin with.”
“Just think, you could have been home with your family right now. I bet you regret being so stubborn.”
Kyle shook his head. “Not even one bit,” he said.
Her bewildered expression drew a smile out of him.
“If my dad and I hadn’t had that fight, I never would have gone to Istanbul,” Kyle explained. “And I never would have met you. There’s nothing that could ever make me regret that.”
Miranda’s chest rose with the sharp breath she pulled in. She closed the distance between them and wrapped her arms around his waist. Laying her head against his chest, she softly whispered, “Kyle?”
“Yes?” he asked, his hand moving down her spine in a gentle caress.
“Would it freak you out if I told you I’m falling in love with you?” She looked up at him, her eyes filled with trepidation and hope. “I know it sounds unbelievable that I could have fallen for you so quickly, but—”
He shut her up with a kiss. A long, leisurely kiss. The kind of kiss he never wanted to end. Miranda melted against him, a faint whimper escaping her lips.
“There’s nothing unbelievable about it,” Kyle said. “Not when I’m standing here feeling the same way about you.” He captured her chin between his fingers and tipped her head up. “I love you, Miranda.”
He kissed her again, pulling her to him as his tongue delved into her warm mouth.
“Just in case you were wondering, I have no problem doing that all day long,” she said.
Kyle chuckled, giving her another peck on the lips before asking, “Did you talk to Erin?”
Miranda nodded. “She’s upset that I’ll miss Christmas, but I promised her that I’d make it up to her with a party for New Year’s. Do you think you can spare a few days in Portland?”
“I can spare a lifetime in Portland if it means I get to be with you.”
The smile that graced her lips was everything Kyle needed.
“There’s no way I’m giving
up this view,” Miranda said. “I think we can go back and forth between our two homes, don’t you?”
“Whatever the lady wants,” Kyle said with a grin before dipping his head and taking her lips in a slow, sweet kiss.
Epilogue
Miranda snuggled closer to Kyle, fitting her back against his chest and pulling the blanket over both their legs. Together they stared outside his bedroom at the vast landscape. The moonlight glinted off the freshly fallen snow, twinkling within the trees.
Miranda brought the mug of warm apple cider to her lips and took a sip, relishing in the sheer perfection of this moment. She’d forgotten that this kind of contentment even existed; yet here she sat, basking in it with the man of her dreams.
“Only a few minutes left,” Kyle whispered against her cheek. His fingers gently caressed her arm, gliding over her skin.
For the first time in fifteen years, Miranda experienced something other than pain as the clock ticked down the minutes to Christmas. She would even go so far as to call it happiness. She never imagined she could feel this way about the holiday again. But thanks to the man whose arms held her tight, she felt more than just happy. She felt loved and cherished.
She tilted her head to the side and turned slightly, giving him a kiss on the cheek.
Kyle looked at her with an incredulous frown.
“What?” Miranda asked.
“Is that what you call a Christmas kiss?”
He took the mug from her hand and placed it on the bedside table; then he urged her to turn. Miranda twisted in his lap. She brought her knees on either side of his thighs, straddling him. She wrapped her arms around his head, linking her fingers behind his neck.
“So, what’s a proper Christmas kiss?” she whispered against his lips.
She caught sight of the numbers on Kyle’s digital clock out of the corner of her eye when they switched from 11:59 to 12:00.
Kyle shoved a hand in her hair and lifted his mouth to hers. “Let me show you how it’s done.”
From Here to Serenity
K.M. JACKSON
Chapter One