by Olivia Miles
Nope. No reason to go there. It had meant nothing, even though it had certainly felt like something.
“Well, you can’t throttle him now,” Amelia said.
“He left, Cora,” Britt said when Cora looked at them all for explanation. “Robbie was down at the gas station this morning and saw him filling his tank. He headed out of town.”
Cora let this sink in. “I suppose all hope is lost then.” For her shop. For love.
And for sweet little Georgie to have a proper small-town Christmas.
“Hey,” Amelia said, giving her a little jab. There was kindness in her eyes that made Cora blink back tears. “You were always the one who said that Christmas was the time for hope, no matter how bad the rest of the year had been.”
“Without you, Cora, I’m not sure what Christmas would have been like after Mom was gone,” Maddie said with a little smile.
Cora’s father came back into the room and handed her a glass of cider, clearly picking up on the fact that the hot chocolate wasn’t to her liking. “It’s true, honey. You were the one who always found a way to make the best of things. To keep going. You’ll get through this. You just have to believe.”
“In Christmas magic and all that stuff?” Cora pursed her lips.
“Maybe it’s the time to believe in…yourself.” Her dad gave a little wink and slipped away, leaving the sisters alone again.
“Is that why you all came over?” Cora asked. “To cheer me up?”
Even though she’d hated the thought of her sisters abandoning their beloved tradition, she didn’t want to be the reason they sacrificed their own special plans.
“Consider it payback,” Maddie said. “You cheered us up every Christmas, and now it’s our turn to do the same for you.”
“You guys…” Now Cora did brush away a tear. “What would I do without you?”
“Luckily you don’t have to think about that,” Amelia said as she pulled some of the blanket onto her own lap. “And between us, I can’t think of any way I’d rather spend this evening. It’s Christmas Eve. It’s tradition.”
And some traditions were meant to last, no matter what.
*
The drive back to Chicago was long, but the roads were clear, and traffic was light. Most people were at home, Phil supposed, wrapping presents, or waiting for relatives to arrive. Phil had a flashback to the one and only Christmas he’d spent in Blue Harbor, when his grandmother had been sitting in the front window when the car had pulled up. Now he wondered how long she’d been sitting there, waiting.
And he wondered with a sinking heart when she had stopped.
But unlike him, she hadn’t stopped celebrating Christmas. She’d turned her community into her family.
“You sure that you’re not too disappointed about today?” he asked Georgie, who had put up a fair and expected protest when he’d told her they were leaving this morning.
“I understand, Dad,” was all she said. “Besides, it will be nice to see Great-Grandma and Grandpa.”
That it would. It was long overdue.
The assisted-living community was a series of buildings, with snow-covered landscaping that was lit in the most cheerful way possible, but it was a small cry from the decorations in Blue Harbor, and Phil knew that his grandmother would especially be missing it.
He tried to remember which condo was theirs as he studied the grounds, the reminder that he’d only been here the one time making his gut tighten with guilt.
Finally, he saw it. The unmistakable glow of a Christmas tree in the window containing all the ornaments he hadn’t found in the house—all the ornaments that he hadn’t even remembered until he saw them. He parked the car and helped Georgie out so she didn’t slip, and studied the tree through the window as they approached the front door. Sure enough, there were all the porcelain ornaments that Cora had mentioned.
His hand tightened on the bag containing the dove. A peace offering. One that was long overdue.
“You want to ring the bell?” he asked Georgie, who wasted no time in doing just that.
They waited, shuffling their feet to keep warm, until the door opened, and there was his grandmother, in a bright red sweater, her eyes wide with confusion.
“Phil? And Georgie!” she cried happily as Georgie flung her arms around her waist. “But…I don’t understand.”
“We didn’t want you to be alone on Christmas,” Phil said, stepping inside the small living room where his grandfather was sitting on his favorite recliner, slow to stand.
He looked around the room that was decorated with all of his grandmother’s most treasured decorations, ones that he still remembered from that one perfect Christmas, to the movie playing on the big screen in the corner, and the tree, that contained no gifts under it.
Yet.
He handed her the bag that Cora had given him, knowing that he had made the right choice in coming here.
“We don’t want you to be alone on Christmas ever again,” he said, squeezing his grandmother’s hand as her eyes filled with tears.
And the same went for him, he thought, taking his daughter’s hand with the other.
15
Even before Cora flipped her Christmas quilt off her flannel reindeer-printed pajamas and slid her feet into her matching slippers, she knew that it was going to be a good Christmas. Maybe not the best, maybe not perfect, but it was going to be good, because a long time ago she’d resolved to always make this one day of the year good, despite any other heartache.
She put on her robe and wandered into her living room, looking up at the big tree that and she and Phil and Georgie had decorated together, only this time, she didn’t let her thoughts drift back to that special evening, or the disappointment that she felt since then. She looked up at the angel tree topper, sitting on a tree in an apartment that would soon be vacant, rather than in the big waterfront Victorian where it had always been, and she knew that change was inevitable, but that somehow, in the end, things did find a way of working out.
She had to believe that, not just to keep her spirits up, but because it was Christmas.
And Christmas was a time for hope.
From downstairs, she heard a knocking at the back door, and she checked the clock as she hurried on the stairs, wondering if she’d slept in and one of her cousins or sisters had already come to collect her. She and Gabby had decided to drive over to the house together, seeing as they lived so close.
But it was Bart at the door.
For a second, Cora thought of what Candy had said about love not just showing up at the door, and wondered…
But no. Bart was a friend. A fellow Christmas enthusiast, at least part of the year. And he was a part of this town she loved so much.
“Still in the Christmas robe, I see,” he said by way of hello.
She grinned. “Hey, it’s Christmas. If there’s any day I should get a free pass, it’s today.”
“Fair enough,” he said. “And on that note, I wondered if you had figured out who sent the tree to you yet?”
Cora froze, remembering one of her theories, and if it was true, if Bart had sent her the tree. If she’d had love and romance all wrong all this time. Given the way that Phil had betrayed her, maybe she had.
But looking at Bart, tall and rugged, in his parka, she didn’t feel anything more than a friendship.
“I wanted to tell you that when I was packing up last night, I came across the printed invoices and I saw who sent you the tree,” he continued. “No digging or investigation. It was right there, so I thought, if you wanted to know…”
She nodded. It was Christmas. The tree would come down soon. And besides, she’d like to properly thank whoever had cared enough about her to think she needed it.
Because she did.
And so did that angel tree topper.
“It was that guy who was in town with his daughter. I saw you talking to him at the tree lot one night. Phil Keaton.”
Cora blinked at him. Her mouth fe
lt dry as she tried to process what he was saying. “Phil Keaton sent me that tree?”
Her mind was spinning, trying to think of why he’d done it, what motive he might have had. Why he hadn’t ever confessed to doing it.
And despite everything that had happened, and everything he’d done, she knew that he hadn’t sent it to ease the blow. He’d sent it because he cared.
And that maybe she hadn’t been so wrong about love after all. Maybe sometimes it just wasn’t meant to last.
*
After Bart left, complete with his annual gift—a new ornament for his own tree back home, because what else do you give to a guy who sells trees for a living—Cora walked through her shop, stopping to admire her favorite displays, the treasured pieces she had collected over the years, hoping to share her love for the holiday with all those she loved most. Hoping that people would come into her store and buy something special, something that might become a tradition of their own someday.
Even if just for a little while.
Plans changed, and people adapted, and traditions did too, she knew now.
She stopped at the counter and picked up the snow globe her father had given to her on Thanksgiving, thinking of all the wishes that had been made on it, even if they had only partly come true. It was one special item from her mother, her mother who believed that Christmas was full of magic and possibility.
And an open heart.
Cora hadn’t bought anything for Candy yet—she still hadn’t thought of the right gift. But now, she wrapped the snow globe in tissue and tied the most festive bow she could around the box she set it in.
Candy had come into their lives and nothing had ever been the same since, and that was not a bad thing at all. It was, in many ways, a gift in itself.
She went upstairs to shower and dress, and then hurried back downstairs with all the carefully wrapped gifts, to find Gabby’s flower delivery truck parked outside, Gabby inside waiting. Inside the warm vehicle, the radio was turned to the Christmas station—something her cousin had done just for her.
They roads were quiet and still, and Cora knew that everyone was tucked inside their homes, enjoying the holiday with their family.
Her own childhood home was far from quiet. The house was full when they arrived—of presents, and music, and laughter, and conversation. Aunt Miriam and Uncle Steve were already there, as were Jenna and Cora’s sisters. And their significant others. Candy was wearing a beautiful off-white sweater dress, Cora noticed, stopping to pay her a compliment.
“I did it to go with your theme of White Christmas,” Candy said. “I can’t wait to see how you set up the table.”
It wasn’t a Christmas tree, but it was a peace offering, and before Cora could escape, Candy wiggled her fingers and pulled her in for one of her good, long, squishy hugs. And Cora could only laugh and wonder what her mother would think, and know in her heart of hearts, that she’d be smiling. From ear to ear.
After setting up the dining table, which was stretched to full capacity with two leaves, Cora entered the kitchen where Amelia and Maddie were hard at work on the center island, Maddie on a pie crust, and Amelia peeling potatoes. “You need any help?”
“Just prepping while I have time,” Amelia said. “But if you want to help me, you can keep Candy out of the kitchen.”
“It’s practically her kitchen now,” Cora pointed out, and the room fell silent. It wasn’t long ago that this entire house was silent, but now, in this moment, it was full of Candy’s singing—because she loved any chance to put those pipes to use—and her laughter, and their father’s laughter too. And it was nice to know that even when they all went back to their own homes, to their lives, and maybe even to their traditions, that this house was still full of life.
“You okay with that?” she asked her sisters, who had spent more time in this room than she had.
They gave each other a glance and smiled. “Change isn’t easy, but it’s often worth it.” Amelia gave her a meaningful look. “It will all work out, Cora, I believe that.”
Cora pushed back the heaviness in her heart when she thought of her shop and the meandering rooms that she’d so carefully decorated. This weekend she’d look at some other spaces, figure out how to make one of them work, and hope that she could cover the lease, even if her father had offered to help bridge the gap if need be.
“I suppose I’ll finally have to cut back on merchandise,” she said to her sisters, but they didn’t give her the knowing look she’d expected. If anything, they looked just as disappointed for her as she felt.
The doorbell rang, cutting through the din of the house, and Cora and her sisters exchanged questioning glances. They were all accounted for until Aunt Miriam’s sister’s family arrived for dessert, unless a neighbor had decided to stop by.
“I’ll get it,” she said, seeing that her sisters were otherwise occupied. She walked down the hall and opened the door and saw, to her surprise, Phil standing on the porch, shivering in his expensive wool coat.
“Phil.” She stared at him, not sure what to say, or why he was here. More details of the eviction to work out? He didn’t seem to honor holidays when it came to business, after all. “I thought…I heard you left town,” she managed.
He gave her a little grin. Really, what was there to smile about? The man had thrown her to the curb, at Christmastime!
“I did leave, and I have you to thank for that.”
She folded her arms across her chest, but not because she was cold. No, she was downright steaming mad. Showing up at her family home, on Christmas. He had better have something good to say.
She sucked in a breath. She didn’t dare hope. Not even on Christmas. But Christmas was the time to hope, and oh, she wanted to believe that this wasn’t going to just be a good Christmas, but the best one yet.
“How did you know where my family home was?” she asked him.
He grinned wider. “Like you said, everyone knows everyone in Blue Harbor. And my grandparents pointed it out.”
“Your—” She blinked, then looked past him to the luxury SUV that was sitting out front, the engine still running. Through the tinted windows she saw a shadow of Mrs. Keaton’s face, and a hand waving at her. “Your grandparents are here?”
“That’s why I left,” Phil explained. “I was thinking about what you said, about how much my grandmother loved Christmas. And then I thought of her alone with just her husband.”
He frowned and looked down at his shoes. Cora resisted the urge to set a hand on his arm. However touching this gesture might be, the man had still evicted her from not only her apartment but also her place of business.
“When I saw how much Georgie loved the town’s traditions, I knew just how much my grandparents must miss them.”
Cora nodded, forcing herself to not to get too soft here. “Well, I’m sure they’re thrilled to spend one last holiday in Blue Harbor.”
“Oh, it won’t be the last,” Phil said, flashing a grin.
Her heart skipped a beat, and for a moment she almost didn’t trust herself to speak. To hope.
“It wasn’t just Georgie who loved being here for Christmas. It was me, too. Then, and now. I had one perfect Christmas in this town a long, long time ago. And again, more recently.”
His gaze was steady. “You made me a believer, Cora. You made me realize what Christmas is all about, and what it really means, and I’m not so willing to walk away from it again.” He looked her in the eye. “Or you.”
Her voice was locked in her throat. “Phil…”
He held up a hand. “Please. There’s something I need to say, Cora. I came to town with clear intentions. I buy out businesses. I close them down. I look at the numbers and I do what makes sense, practically, not emotionally. What I always thought was the right step. I never bother to get to the heart of the matter, to know the faces behind the door. But I got to know you. And the more I got to know you, the harder it became to go through with things.”
She
raised an eyebrow. “But you did. You told me in the end.”
“I did. And once it was out, it confirmed everything that I’ve known since I came here.” He took a step toward her, his smile replaced with a look far more serious. And maybe, more sincere. “You reminded me of all the good things I used to feel when I was in Blue Harbor. All the simple things that brought my child so much joy. That brought me joy. All this time, I’ve been chasing something that wasn’t real. All I know is that I was empty before.”
“So you’re not going overseas?”
He shook his head. “No. No, I can’t leave Georgie like that. Not now. Not when I see what I can have with her. What I found with her. And I can’t leave my grandparents either. I’m all they’ve got. Well, me and this town.”
“You mean they’re moving back?” She thought of what he’d said about Mr. Keaton’s health. “But—”
He nodded. “But nothing. This is where they belong. And it’s where I belong too.”
Tears prickled the back of her eyes, and even though she told herself it was due to the wind, she knew it wasn’t true.
“You showed me the meaning of Christmas,” he said to her. He reached out to take her hand. His were cold in hers, but they warmed slowly. “You made me see the meaning in a lot of things.”
“Blue Harbor has a way of doing that to people,” she said humbly.
“Oh, I know,” he said, grinning. “It got under my skin a long time ago, but you…you stuck.”
Cora sensed a shuffling behind her, and whispers as everyone frantically dispersed. Of course Candy lingered a little longer—her perfume was evidence of that. Cora was letting in a draft, but she wasn’t ready to close the door just yet.
Or ever.
Candy had said that love didn’t just show up the door, but it had for Cora. Twice. And things like that didn’t happen without a little Christmas magic.
“We have room,” she said, giving him a little smile. “If you all want to join us?”
“I can’t think of anything better,” he said, his grin widening. “Except one thing.”