by Sophie Love
A million thoughts swirled in her mind as she looked through her dad’s correspondence, some old, some more recent.
After what felt like hours had passed, Emily decided she was going to email her father again. What harm would it do? He probably wasn’t going to read it anyway.
She took out her cell and began composing the message.
Hi Dad,
Me again. I found the hidden bar. What a gem! You really did keep some pretty amazing secrets, didn’t you? Ballrooms. Bars. Antiques. Paintings. A mistress. I wonder what else you were hiding…
I’ve been reading through your letters from Toni, I found them in one of the safes in the basement. And I’ve been reading all the letters hidden in the secret bar room. I know you were here, that you’ve been visiting the house over the last twenty years. I have so many questions for you, but I know they’ll never be answered.
So I may as well tell you about my weekend. What harm can it do? I went out shopping with Amy and Jayne (remember them?). We were looking for things for the wedding. I got overwhelmed by it all and ended up in floods of tears. I guess I’m freaking out about the commitment. After all those years of wishing Ben would commit and now I’m the one getting cold feet with Daniel! Ridiculous. But kind of expected, wouldn’t you say? You and Mom were hardly the models of wedded bliss…
She stopped there, her fingers hovering over the keys. Emotion made her throat thick. She had so much more to say, but suddenly none of the energy left with which to say it. She thought about going back and editing what had turned into something of a stream of consciousness, then decided against it. Roy Mitchell would not read the words she’d written so what did it matter? She deliberated for only a moment before she hit send.
There were no windows in the bar, so when Emily emerged back into the main house, blinking in the dazzling light, she discovered it had started snowing again. She decided to walk to Chantelle’s school to pick her up, anxious about driving in the snow, but also because walking always helped clear her head.
The air was crisp and everything seemed quieter than normal as Emily walked along the sidewalk with the ocean to one side of her. An icy sensation bit at her cheeks and fingers. It was bitterly cold, reminding her of the terrible weather she’d encountered when she first arrived at Sunset Harbor, when she’d practically frozen to death in the drafty old house. How far she’d come since then. How much she’d achieved. How much she’d gained.
She touched the ring on her left hand with her fingertips, feeling how cold the pearls had become.
Then she drew up to the school. She must have been walking languorously because the parking lot was already half emptied, and the kids who’d not yet been collected were playing on the lawn as snow began to settle. Ms. Glass supervised them, handing them over to their parents. She waved to Emily as she saw her approach.
“Sorry I’m late,” Emily said to Ms. Glass. Chantelle came over and Emily rested both of her hands on her shoulders. “Did you have a good day today?”
Chantelle nodded. She handed Emily a painting of a Christmas scene, in her signature silver sparkles. Emily smiled as she slid it into her purse.
“She’s doing excellently,” Ms. Glass said. “Honestly, you and Daniel are doing a great job.”
Emily smiled, proud of herself, but the mention of Daniel’s name made his absence all the more obvious. She turned to Chantelle.
“Shall we take a stroll along the beach? The water at the harbor is starting to freeze over and it will look beautiful.”
Returning back home for several Daniel-less hours seemed suddenly unappealing to Emily. Why not make the most of the snow while they could?
Chantelle nodded and they walked together hand in hand. Emily was sorry not to have bumped into Yvonne today. She could have used some moral support, a friendly face to help bolster her during her loneliness.
The icy harbor was beautiful, glistening. Emily stared out at the water feeling lonely, despite Chantelle’s company. It was then she realized the child was completely silent.
“What’s up, chicken?” she asked.
Chantelle shook her head.
“You know you can tell me anything,” Emily pressed. “No secrets.”
Chantelle chewed her lip. “It’s Christmas soon,” she said finally.
“And that makes you sad?” Emily asked.
Chantelle shrugged. “My mom will be alone.”
Emily felt a clenching sensation in her chest. “Do you want to send her a card? A present? Because it’s absolutely fine if you do.” She hoped that Chantelle wasn’t harboring any guilt about wanting to comfort her lonely mother.
Chantelle stared into the distance. “Maybe,” she admitted. “But I don’t think she’ll send me anything.”
Emily sighed sadly. “She might not. But Daddy and I will make sure you have a really fun Christmas. Do you know what presents you might want?”
“I don’t need presents,” Chantelle explained. “I have everything I need.”
Her words made Emily even sadder. “It doesn’t have to be about need. It can just be something you want. For fun. A toy. Clothes. Some crafts.”
But Chantelle said nothing. Emily realized that at seven years old Chantelle had learned something that many adults never learned—that things were not equivalent to happiness, that joy came from comfort, love, and security, not clothes or possessions.
No matter what Chantelle thought, Emily was determined to get her the best gift ever. The girl deserved so much. She deserved the best Christmas a child could hope for. And Emily was going to make sure she got it.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Emily waltzed through the wintry streets, numerous shopping bags swinging from her arms. Her Christmas shopping had started successfully enough, but somehow she still had a ton of people left to cross off her list. And since she’d already exhausted the stores in Bangor, Augusta, and Portland with her overenthusiastic gift buying, she’d had to drive all the way down to Kittery to procure some last-minute gifts.
She reached her car and dumped the bags in the trunk. As she attempted to squish the door down she felt the heat rising into her cheeks. She’d gone a little overboard this year. But, Emily reasoned, it was her first Christmas with Chantelle; she’d needed to get presents for her school friends, teachers, and all the parent friends Emily herself had made. Then there were all the inn’s staff, whom Emily had needed to get gifts for, and it hadn’t felt right not to add Owen to the list since he was part of the inn family, or Tracey, for precisely the same reason.
Then there was the business side of gift giving. Karen had sent her homemade figgy puddings, Raj had sent a winter-themed bouquet, and the wine suppliers had sent a complimentary bottle of port. Emily felt compelled to return the favors.
Emily decided to take one last stroll down the main street in Kittery. As she went, she stumbled upon a cute stone building and wondered whether it would make a suitable venue for the wedding. She made a note to mention it to Daniel later. They hadn’t spoken about it at all since Amy’s interrogation and a conversation felt well overdue.
A little farther down the street, Emily found a delightful music store, the perfect place to find a gift for Owen. But as she perused the shelves, a sudden worry struck Emily. Was Owen spending Christmas alone? He’d told her recently that his parents lived abroad, that they rarely got to see one another. She couldn’t bear the thought of him spending Christmas alone.
On her cell, she dialed Owen’s number and the shy pianist answered.
“I hope you don’t mind me asking…” Emily said after they’d exchanged pleasantries.
“Is it to do with the singing lessons?” Owen interrupted with a panicked voice. “I can come more often if you’d like. Or do you want them less often? I can do shorter sessions if she’s getting tired after an hour? Oh no. Does Chantelle want to stop them altogether?”
“No, no!” Emily said quickly. “It’s not about Chantelle. It’s about Christmas.”
; “Christmas?” Owen sounded confused.
“Daniel and I are doing a large dinner as we have a few guests staying over the festive period. We’d love you to come. Some other folk from town will be there. Rico, for example.”
“Rico?” Owen asked. “Does that mean—”
“Serena can’t come,” Emily said with a smirk. “If that’s what you were wondering.”
“Nope, just curious,” Owen said quickly in an attempt to hide his blatant interest. Then after a pause, he added, “I would love to come. If you’re happy to have me.”
“It would be wonderful.”
“Thank you, Emily. I really appreciate it.”
Emily was relieved. Though her and Daniel’s parents would be absent for Christmas dinner, they certainly weren’t going to be alone. There would be a skeleton staff staying at the inn for the week to take care of the ten-person-strong Canadian family who’d booked over the holidays, and then there would be the handful of Sunset Harbor folks who had nowhere else to go.
There was one person Emily hadn’t been able to convince to come to the celebrations, however, and that was Trevor Mann. It made her so sad to think of him alone on Christmas, especially since it would most certainly be his last. Selecting the right gift for someone with a terminal illness felt like an impossible task as well. She didn’t want to get anything that might suggest Trevor was an invalid and it seemed crass to buy things with longevity. Then an idea struck her.
She called Raj Patel.
“Is your store still open?” she asked when the florist answered. “You haven’t closed for the holidays yet?”
“We’re still open,” Raj confirmed.
Emily sighed with relief. “Do you have any fruit trees I could buy?”
It was the perfect idea, Emily thought. Trees would live forever. They’d become Trevor’s legacy.
Raj chuckled, clearly amused by such an odd request. “I have a peach tree, a cherry tree, an apple tree, and a lemon tree. But you do know the ground is far too hard to plant at the moment?”
“Oh,” Emily said, deflating. “It was supposed to be a gift for Trevor.”
“For Trevor?” Raj sounded confused. “Why are you getting gifts for him?”
Emily quickly realized her error. No one else knew about Trevor’s demise, and even though Sunita was Raj’s wife she’d be upholding patient confidentiality.
She let out a nervous giggle. “I just want to block his view of my garden.”
“Okay…” Raj said, sounding more bemused than ever. “Well, if you have a greenhouse to store them in they’ll keep fine until the ground softens in spring.”
Spring. It seemed a long way away for someone who had just a few months to live. But Trevor did have an old greenhouse around the back of his property, Emily recalled. At least he’d be able to enjoy watching the trees grow, even if he didn’t live long enough to plant them.
“I’ll take them,” Emily said, feeling a stab of grief.
Emily drove back to Sunset Harbor and parked beside Raj’s garden center. He met her at the doors, and then they walked through the store together to where the four fruit trees stood. They were only a few feet tall each, bare, with no leaves, their roots taped up in garbage bags. Not much to look at.
Since Emily’s car was too stuffed with gifts to fit the trees inside the only option was to tie them to the roof. As Emily drove carefully through the streets of Sunset Harbor, she was relieved everyone was inside preparing their own Christmas celebrations, although she did earn herself a bemused wave from Birk at the gas station as she crawled past.
After parking at the inn, Emily carried the fruit trees into one of her outbuildings to keep them out of sight. Then she quickly checked to make sure she hadn’t gotten any soil on her clothes before hurrying to Trevor’s house.
After she spent a minute knocking on his door, Trevor answered. He looked worse than ever. He was wearing his pajamas, something he wouldn’t have dreamed of doing a month ago.
“Emily,” he said, shuffling away from the door to allow her inside.
Emily tried her hardest not to look concerned or overly alarmed. But as he led her toward the kitchen, Trevor seemed more frail than ever. Emily couldn’t help but glance into the rooms as they passed and, for the first time since she’d known him, his immaculately clean home was looking messy. She would have to send Marnie over later that evening to fix the place up.
Emily made some tea and she and Trevor sat together at the kitchen table.
“I’m just here to try and twist your arm over Christmas dinner,” Emily said. “We really want you there.”
Trevor sipped his tea slowly. “I don’t want to burden you.”
“It wouldn’t be a burden,” Emily implored. “We’re already making dinner for thirty people! And since our own families aren’t coming, I know Chantelle would love you to be there. You’re the closest thing she has to a grandpa.”
Trevor seemed touched by Emily’s words. But at the same time, he was unshakable.
“I’m going to have to decline your generous offer,” he said.
Emily couldn’t help but feel like he’d given up, like he’d already resigned himself to death. She wanted to shake some sense into him. If this was to be his last Christmas he should darn well enjoy it! But at the same time, it was entirely up to Trevor how he decided to spend his remaining days of life. Her only hope was that he wasn’t trying to save face, that it wasn’t his pride holding him back. There really wasn’t enough time for that kind of nonsense.
“If you’re worried about what people will say…” Emily began.
But Trevor patted her hand, stopping her mid-sentence.
“Emily, I know what you’re doing and I appreciate it, I really do. After how terribly I treated you, it really is a testament to your character that you’d go so far as to offer me charity on Christmas Day of all days. But I would like to spend the day alone. I hope you can respect that.”
Emily swallowed the hard lump in her throat. The thought of anyone alone at Christmas upset her deeply. It made her think of her dad spending Christmas after Christmas on his own, and her mom in her tony New York City apartment refusing to spend Christmas with her daughter because she didn’t approve of her life choices. To Emily, being alone was the worst thing to want in the world.
They drank the rest of their tea in silence. Emily washed the cups so Trevor didn’t have to exert any more energy doing so. She ignored the voice in her head telling her to tuck Trevor up in bed.
“I can see myself out,” she told him as he stood from the kitchen table.
Trevor nodded. He’d passed the stage of arguing with her over certain matters. Though decorum told him he should see his guest to the door, his illness prevented him. Instead, he walked her as far as the foot of the stairs.
“I’ll come around with your gifts soon,” Emily told him.
Trevor just smiled, cupped her hands in his, and kissed her on the cheeks. “I have no need for gifts now, my dear,” he said. Then he dropped her hands.
Emily walked the rest of the hallway, opened the door, and stepped out of the house. The moment the door closed behind her, she let her tears fall.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Emily tiptoed across the driveway, trying not to make the gravel crunch beneath her boots. She was carrying a bucket filled with bottles of cleaning fluid and several colorful sponges. Following quietly behind her was Chantelle with some garbage bags and Daniel carrying a ladder. It may have been Christmas Eve and barely 5 a.m. but the whole family was awake for this mission.
Daniel hadn’t been particularly thrilled about Emily’s choice of gift for Trevor. But when he’d seen how excited Chantelle was about the idea of secretly fixing up Trevor’s greenhouse he’d agreed to join in.
Just then, Emily noticed Colin Magnum leaving the carriage house, his suitcase in tow.
“I hope we didn’t wake you,” Emily said. She side-eyed the suitcase in Colin’s hands. “Are you going somewhere?
”
Colin smiled cordially. “Yes, actually. I’m leaving a little earlier than planned.” Then his eyebrows rose upward. “My wife suggested we spend Christmas together.”
He sounded as surprised as Emily felt.
“You reconciled?” she exclaimed.
Colin nodded. “I shan’t be needing these any longer.”
He handed the keys to the carriage house to Emily. She felt a small pang of sadness to know he would be leaving them. Colin had been in Sunset Harbor so long now he’d started to feel like part of the furniture.
“We’ll miss you at Christmas dinner,” Emily added, as she stashed the keys away in her pocket. “And in general. It’s been a pleasure having you.”
He glanced at the bucket in Emily’s hands. “Yes, it’s been a wonderfully odd month.” Then he smiled with mischief. “I left your Christmas gift with Lois at reception. I hope you like it.”
Colin loaded up his car and got inside. As Emily waved him off she realized she would never get an answer to the mysterious project he’d been working on for the last month.
Emily rejoined Daniel and Chantelle, and the three of them crept through the hole in the hedges that separated the inn from Trevor’s property and went to the greenhouse out back. The place was a mess, filled with broken pots, grubby garden furniture, and dead plants. It was clear the greenhouse hadn’t been used for many years, but it was warm and Emily could picture how beautiful it would look all spruced up and with the fruit trees inside.
They got to work, clearing out all the broken ceramic pots and throwing them in garbage bags. Chantelle swept away all the cobwebs while Daniel cleaned the grubby windows with a rag. Then they filled their buckets with warm soapy water and scrubbed down the cast iron picnic bench until it was gleaming. Finally, they carried the fruit trees into their new positions in Trevor’s greenhouse.