by Olivia Miles
“This is actually the first time that Georgie’s ever been to Blue Harbor,” Phil said. He gave a little smile. “Between my job, and then Georgie going to live with her mother, the occasion never came along before now, I’m afraid. At least it’s been a success so far.”
“So you’ll admit to enjoying this small-town Christmas?”
His grin was rueful. “It’s made Georgie happy, and…that’s what Christmas is about, right? Kids and presents and all that?”
Cora gaped at him. He couldn’t be serious. “Christmas is about family and hope and creating memories that should last a lifetime!”
He stared at her, and her cheeks felt warm. She’d gone too far, acted “Christmas crazy” as her sisters used to joke, even though she knew they were only teasing.
“With my mother gone, sometimes those memories are all I have,” she explained.
Phil’s gaze was steady on hers, and she looked away, eager to change the subject. “But Georgie is definitely happy, that much is true.”
Hearing her name, Georgie called out, “Are you guys coming in? I need help with the lights!”
Cora exchanged a look with Phil. “Guess that’s our cue.”
They walked back into the living room, where already Georgie was starting to tear into the ornaments that Phil had bought from the store.
“Now, here’s a trick,” Cora said. “You have to start with the lights first.”
“I’ll do the honors,” Phil said gamely, and Cora sat back, not even twitching when they were clustered on some branches and sparse on others. The joy in Georgie’s eyes confirmed that the lights didn’t need to be perfect; they were perfect for her.
And wasn’t that what made Christmas traditions so wonderful? Each family had their own way of doing things.
Or at least her family did. Once.
Phil looked over to her, giving her a quizzical expression. “Everything okay? I mean, the lights aren’t as perfect as the trees in your store, but…”
Cora laughed. “The lights are perfect. It’s silly, really. My two older sisters made other plans for Christmas Eve and, well…it’s disappointing.”
To say the least. She’d been fighting back a pull in her chest all day, considered going so far as to just watch their beloved holiday movie on her own, tonight, maybe.
But then she remembered that Maddie would be counting on her, much the way they had all once counted on her to uphold their traditions.
“I’m starting to get the impression that Christmas is a big thing in your family.” Phil handed her an ornament, and Cora searched for just the right branch to hang it from.
She laughed. “Gee, I wonder what gave that away. But, yes, my mother loved Christmas. It was her favorite time of the year and she always made it beautiful and special. When she was gone, it was important for me to keep her traditions going. It made me feel like she was still with us in a way. Harbor Holidays allows me to do just that.”
Phil frowned deeply, and then cleared his throat.
Cora didn’t want to dwell. It made her sad, when Christmas was supposed to be a time of joy. “What about your family?” She hoped she hadn’t overstepped.
It was pretty obvious that Phil was a divorced, single dad, who didn’t make much of the holiday on his own, but she was curious about the Keatons, and what exactly had transpired that led to Phil coming back to town, alone, with Georgie. Why suddenly introduce her to Blue Harbor if his grandparents were now living somewhere else and closer to where he lived?
“Not unless you call eating at one of the most expensive hotels in the city as a big deal,” Phil said. He shrugged. “My parents liked to get out on to the town, go to parties, get dressed up. See and be seen, you might say.”
“And you?”
“Me?” He jutted his lip, as if he hadn’t considered it. “I always got what I wanted for Christmas. No complaints here.” He grinned, but his eyes fell flat.
Cora frowned at this, knowing that she would be miserable spending her holidays that way, thinking that Mrs. Keaton would be too.
“I guess the thing I like most about this time of year is that everyone is home.”
She was sure at least one of her sisters would have shot her a look for admitting to this. Sure, she was a homebody, everyone knew that, but wasn’t that what made Christmas so special? It wasn’t just about the lights and the gifts and the food. It was about the simple joy of being home, surrounded by those you loved the most.
Or, in this year’s case, maybe not.
They finished decorating the tree and then sat on the couch to admire it, Georgie sipping her hot chocolate, and Cora and Phil drinking their wine.
“I bet this tree is just as pretty as your tree, Cora,” Georgie said.
Cora sputtered on her wine. “Actually, I have a confession. I don’t have a tree of my own.”
Phil pulled back against a throw pillow, looking at her in mock horror. “But Christmas is just around the corner!”
“You have to hurry before they’re all gone!” Georgie insisted.
Cora knew she had this coming. “Actually, I never get a tree of my own. I figure I have the trees downstairs and the one at my family’s house. That always felt like my tree.”
Until Candy took charge of decorating it, she thought.
“Maybe it’s a good idea to have a tree of your own. Something separate from your shop?” Phil pointed out.
She winced. “I guess I don’t see the point…”
“Wait a minute.” Phil shifted on the couch until he was leaning toward her, his look stern. “You two gave me a hard time about not having a tree.”
“But you have Georgie,” Cora laughed. “I guess I feel like a tree is something to decorate together. A tradition worth sharing.”
Phil met her gaze, all amusement gone from his eyes as their gazes locked. Cora felt her breath catch, and for a moment, even the sounds of the carols couldn’t compete with the beating of her heart.
“I couldn’t agree more,” he said softly.
Cora pulled in a sigh and took a sip of wine to fight the flutter in her stomach. The embers in the fireplace were dying down and Cora didn’t need to look at the clock to know that it was getting late. Georgie’s yawns were telling enough.
“Well, I should probably get going,” she said, setting her wine glass on an end table.
“I hope the roads have been cleared,” Phil said.
“Oh, I walked,” Cora replied.
“Walked? In this temperature?” Phil looked downright horrified.
“I’m sure you do a lot of walking in the city,” she pointed out.
“Well, yes,” Phil admitted, frowning. “But in the city, everything is lit up.”
Cora gave a little smile. “I have the light of the moon. And when it reflects off the snow, it’s more than bright enough. Besides, I love walking in the snow at this time of year. It feels…magical.” She took her coat from the rack and shrugged into it.
“I have a feeling that I’m not going to talk you into letting me drive you home.” Phil raised an eyebrow.
“You’re not,” Cora said. She jutted her chin to the living room. “Besides, it looks like someone is almost asleep. She’ll need to save some energy for all that gingerbread decorating tomorrow.”
“I have a feeling that Georgie is going to insist on going.” Phil glanced over his shoulder where Georgie was now curling up with a blanket on the couch, clearly worn out from the excitement of the day.
“Oh, she can’t miss it,” Cora said firmly. “Much too special.”
“Good night then,” he said, seeming to hesitate.
Cora felt her stomach flutter as she reached for the doorknob. She could have stayed all night, and maybe he wanted her to. But it was time to go. For now.
*
Phil watched out the window as Cora disappeared into the nightfall. He would have felt a lot better if she’d let him drive her home, and he still had half a mind to tuck Georgie into the backseat of h
is car and do just that.
Ironic, he supposed, that he was so determined to protect the one woman he was about to hurt.
Grimacing against the bitterness that formed in his mouth, he walked back into the kitchen and rinsed the wine glasses, washing away the reminder of the nicest evening he’d spent in a while, and not just because it had been a long time since he’d seen Georgie so happy. Cora was a breath of fresh air—not like any of the other women that he’d dated since his divorce. She didn’t seem to care what kind of car he drove or how fat his bank account was or where they might have dinner. She cared about…traditions, he thought, as he circled back into the living room and admired the fully decorated tree.
It was just like the one his grandmother put up that one Christmas he’d spent here—well, minus the pink ornaments. Still, it stood in the same corner of the living room, lighting up the space with the same feeling of wonder he’d felt all those years ago, when he was the same age as Georgie was now. They’d baked cookies, and decorated, and his grandfather had even pulled his old guitar out of the attic and attempted a few carols. It wasn’t the fanciest Christmas he’d ever had, but it was definitely the most special.
And it was the only one.
This could be a special Christmas for Georgie, though. One last memory to hold onto—of this house, of the one time in his childhood when the world felt full of something other than things. Christmas in Blue Harbor, with Georgie, and carols, and a fire crackling in the hearth.
He hadn’t thought of it until now. Hadn’t wanted to, really.
And now, it was too late.
Next year Georgie would be spending the holidays with her mother.
And this house would be sold to a new family. And he’d have no reason to come back here at all.
Even though it might just be the only place he’d ever been happy. Then. And now.
7
Cora woke earlier than her alarm the next morning, happy to see through her parted curtains that there was a fresh dusting of snow on the tree branches outside her window.
She strained her ear, wondering where the sound that had woken her was coming from. It was a banging sound, and not one that was typically heard at this hour on Main Street in Blue Harbor. The town was usually quiet, muffled by the fresh snow and the knowledge that most people were tucked in their warm beds.
She tossed her legs over the side of the bed, wedged her feet into her oversized and extra soft Santa slippers (a gift from Maddie last year), and put on her Mrs. Clause robe (a top seller downstairs at the store).
The sound was coming from the back door, and only those who knew her well would know that this was her primary entrance to her personal living space. Others might assume that she came and went through the shop door, though considering it was nearly as much her home as this small apartment, she couldn’t exactly say they were wrong.
It was probably one of her sisters—Britt most likely, considering that Amelia and Maddie both went into their kitchens early to get a start on the day. Britt, perhaps, coming to apologize in person for bailing on Christmas Eve.
Cora opened the door to see Bart standing outside, gripping a medium-sized fir tree by the trunk. He gave her the once-over, from her robe to her slippers, doing a poor job of hiding his smile.
“You really do love Christmas,” he marveled, chuckling under his breath.
“Obviously!” she replied, not feeling embarrassed at her attire. This was Bart. Friend Bart. Still, she was almost thankful that it wasn’t Phil. He probably wouldn’t be quite as understanding that she was dressed like she had just come from the North Pole. “And you don’t?”
“Not eleven months of the year,” Bart said. “But something tells me that you do, and it’s not just an act.”
Cora jutted her chin defiantly. “I love Christmas every day of the year. In fact, if it wouldn’t take away from the magic of the holiday, I would celebrate Christmas year-round.”
“Then why is this my first time ever delivering a tree to your door?” Bart arched an eyebrow.
Cora frowned at him, not bothering to point out that she hardly needed a tree of her own when she had an entire inventory of them right here in her shop. There was a bigger topic here to discuss.
“I didn’t order a tree.”
“No, but someone ordered one for you. Left a message last night for this to be delivered first thing this morning.” He looked over her shoulder into her kitchen, which was obviously decorated with snowman cookie jars, a red tea kettle, festive dish towels, and of course, red placemats on her pedestal table. “Where do you want it?”
Cora shook her head. “Wait. Someone ordered this for me?”
Bart nodded. “That’s right.”
“Well, who was it?” Cora asked impatiently.
Bart just shrugged. “Didn’t say.”
Cora blinked. Who would do this? She didn’t know why she even bothered with the next question, but decided that she may as well narrow down the list of potential suspects anyway. Chances were high it was one of her sisters, cousins, or…Candy.
“Was it a man or a woman?”
“I don’t know. They left a message through my online order form. I rarely get one of those come through except for some of the businesses in town.”
“Well, they must have left a name!” Cora said impatiently. Really, everyone knew everyone else in Blue Harbor. Of course Bart knew who sent it.
“Look, I’m just the delivery man, and I get the impression that if they wanted their identity revealed they would tell you. Are you part of some Secret Santa program?”
“No,” Cora said, but then she tucked that piece of information away for another time. Maybe next year she would start a Secret Santa campaign—it could drive business to the store.
“The invoice came through as paid, so I didn’t dig deeper. You want me to check the name?”
Cora hesitated and then shook her head. “I suppose you’re right. If they wanted to reveal themselves to me, they would on their own. It might be better this way.”
“My thoughts exactly. Now, do you want the tree or not? In case you didn’t notice, it’s about ten degrees out here.”
Cora opened the door wider to let him in and led him up the back stairs, her lips pursing at the way he laughed heartily at her Christmas-themed kitchen.
“Look, I end up keeping all the stuff that doesn’t sell,” she replied in her defense.
Bart gave her a long look over his shoulder when he reached the top floor, balancing the tree on the landing. “I almost believe that. So why don’t you have a tree? Now that I’m here, I’m actually curious.”
“I’m surrounded by trees all day,” Cora replied, as she padded down the hall to her living room. She pushed aside an armchair to make space for the tree in the corner near the great big window that overlooked Main Street in all its wintery glory. “I mean, do you have a tree?”
He cut her a look. “Yeah. I have a tree. Of course, I do.”
Oh. Cora sniffed and backed away as Bart began expertly setting it up. She had to admit that it looked huge and beautiful and festive among the other decorations that, like the items in her kitchen, were mostly leftover from the shop.
“So you really don’t know who called about it?” she asked. Maybe she should ask him to check the order form, just so she could stop wondering and get on with her day.
“Maybe it’s a secret admirer,” Bart teased.
“Or maybe it’s my sister feeling guilty because she bailed on our Christmas Eve traditions.” Amelia had clearly felt bad about breaking the news to her. It would be just like Amelia to try to do something to cheer her up or smooth over the disappointment.
Bart shrugged. “Anyway, enjoy it. I should probably get down to the lot before someone comes along and swipes a tree.”
Cora considered this. There was never any crime in Blue Harbor, other than some occasional misdemeanors with teenagers or over-served tourists in the summer. “Has that ever happened?”
He laughed. “There’s a first for everything, right?”
Cora turned back to look at her great, big, beautiful tree that was all hers, in her home, and nodded. Yes, there really was a first for everything.
Even a new tradition.
*
A few hours later, after sending Natalie home to pick up her daughter from the sitter, Cora handled the last few customers of what would be a short work day and turned the sign on the door. Yes, she was closing early, but there was little point in staying open when the entire town would soon be heading over to the town hall for the gingerbread event.
And a few out-of-towners would hopefully show up, too, Cora thought.
She arrived ten minutes before the doors officially opened, telling herself that it wasn’t because she was excited at the prospect of seeing Phil and Georgie again, but because she wanted to have a chance to thank Amelia properly for gifting her the tree, before the day turned too chaotic. The more Cora considered the sender, the more she was certain it was her sweet-natured sister. (While Candy wasn’t shy about grand gestures, she would never be able to resist wanting credit.)
But when she arrived at the town hall, Amelia was frantically setting up the various stations, assisted by Maddie and, of course, Candy.
“Oh, another helper!” Candy cried out as soon as she spotted Cora across the room.
Amelia and Maddie both looked relieved, though Cora couldn’t be sure if it was because she had two extra hands or because she might be able to provide a buffer with their father’s girlfriend. Cora refrained from pointing out to Amelia that she never had to hire her to work at the café, but then, Candy was quite helpful, and eager to please.
Candy smiled at her and held up her flour-coated hands. “I’d hug you but I wouldn’t want to get you all messy.”
Saved! Not that there was anything wrong with a hug. It was just that lately, the person Cora wanted to be hugging her was…Phil. She could still feel his arms when he caught her on Thanksgiving, and she wasn’t about to admit how many times she’d replayed that day in her mind ever since.