A Sweethaven Christmas

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A Sweethaven Christmas Page 7

by Courtney Walsh

“It does to me.”

  “Why? Is it because she matters to you? What’s wrong, did this one turn up pregnant?”

  “Heavens, Lila. Stop it.” Daddy stood and turned his back to her.

  “Tell me.”

  Daddy stared out the window for a long moment, then, as if he’d gotten a hold of himself again, he turned around and faced her. “Lila, I have a lot of money. People are going to make up stories about me and try to get their hands on a piece of what I’ve worked for.”

  “My earliest memories are of you and Mama arguing in the kitchen over where you slept the night before. It’s not a secret, so if this woman is trying to expose something about you, she’d have to have a bigger bombshell than the fact that you’re a cheater. Because everyone already knows that.”

  Daddy hung his head and rubbed his face with his hands. “I don’t like your tone.”

  “And I don’t like your lies. I deserve the truth.” Her voice broke. “For once in your life, just tell the truth.”

  Her father stood. “This is still my house, Lila. And I am still your father. You will respect me.”

  Her mind flashed back years. All the times he’d demanded respect, he’d never done a thing to earn it. And he’d never offered it to her in return.

  “I think it’s time you started respecting yourself,” she said.

  Daddy threw the newspaper on the couch and stormed out, the front door slamming behind him. She stood in the entryway and watched the car pull away, then turned back to the empty house and inhaled, fighting back the tears that threatened.

  Daddy didn’t deserve any more of her tears.

  Lila went back into the study and started searching through the drawers of her father’s desk. She didn’t even know what she was searching for. Something—anything—to tie him to this nameless woman who’d turned their lives upside down.

  As she searched, she tried not to put anything out of place, but the longer she found nothing, the more frustrated she became.

  The sound of the front door startled her and she closed the bottom drawer of the desk as quietly as she could, then walked to the doorway.

  Tom shook off his coat and hung it up. “Hey, what are you doing in your dad’s office?”

  Lila sighed. “Snooping.”

  He reached out to her, then pulled her into a hug. “You’ve got to stop this. The stress isn’t good for you or the baby.”

  “He’s lying, Tom. I don’t know about what, but I know he is.”

  Tom pulled away and met her eyes. “Maybe he’s embarrassed.”

  She scoffed. “He should be. The way he’s chosen to live is embarrassing. But not just for him, and that’s the thing that makes me crazy. It’s like he has no regard for what his choices have done to the rest of us.”

  She pushed past Tom and went upstairs with him following close behind. She opened the door to her parents’ bedroom and started shuffling through the dresser drawers.

  “Hon, what are you doing?”

  “Maybe there’s something in here.” She opened the hutch and then the vanity and then turned to the closet.

  “I feel like I’m watching a movie where you know the person snooping around is going to get caught at any moment,” Tom said.

  “Then keep an eye on the door. Or better yet, watch out the front window for the car.”

  Tom sighed. “This is ridiculous.”

  She turned to him. “Could you be a little supportive? Just because you didn’t keep evidence of your other life doesn’t mean Daddy didn’t.”

  The stunned look on Tom’s face came at her like a slap across the face.

  “You’re comparing me to your father?”

  She shook her head. “No, of course not. I didn’t mean that.”

  He turned away.

  She rushed to him and wrapped her arms around him, but he stiffened. “Tom, I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant.”

  “I don’t like being compared to your father, Lila.”

  “I know. I didn’t mean it.” She willed him to look at her.

  He stepped back. “I’ll watch out the window.”

  She stared at the empty doorway, wishing she could take back her careless words. Tom was nothing like Daddy. Daddy was a chronic cheater. Tom had made one mistake before their relationship became serious.

  She’d have to find a way to make it up to him. Later.

  Lila flipped on the closet light and peered up on the top shelves lined with shoes and purses, but there was nothing sentimental that she could see. No big surprise given how detached her mother had always been. She hadn’t kept a single report card or childhood drawing of Lila’s.

  Over on Daddy’s side of the closet, she spotted an old briefcase. She still remembered watching him carry it as he left for work in the mornings. How it had ended up here, she didn’t know. He’d stopped carrying it years ago.

  She pulled it out and clicked it open. Inside, she found a stack of business papers, but underneath was a red envelope addressed to her father. She turned it over and pulled out the card—a Father’s Day card. When she opened it, a small photo fell out. Faded and orange, the photo looked familiar. Like one she’d seen of her and Daddy from one of her earliest birthday parties. But the little girl on Daddy’s lap wasn’t Lila.

  The card had been signed in a child’s handwriting. Love, Charlotte.

  Lila’s mind reeled, her thoughts frantic and frenzied. Charlotte. She wanted to believe she didn’t know who Charlotte was, but there were too many red flags unfurling in her mind. Cold swept over her.

  “Lila, someone’s pulling in.” Tom’s voice carried into the closet where she sat, the contents of the briefcase spilled out on the floor.

  “Lila? Come on.” He stood in the doorway of the closet. “What is it? What’d you find?”

  “That woman isn’t Daddy’s mistress, Tom.” She handed him the photo. “She’s his daughter.”

  In the quiet of her parents’ bedroom, Lila half-whispered, half-yelled.

  “He lied to my face, Tom. This is proof.”

  Tom frowned at the photo. “It does seem suspicious.”

  “That is my father and that is not me. It’s not suspicious. It’s proof.”

  “Okay, you need to stay calm,” Tom said. He took her hand and led her down the hall to her childhood bedroom. “Listen, he must’ve had a reason for lying about it.”

  “All of this deceit is to keep up appearances. It’s sickening. Families are dysfunctional. Why is it so hard for them to admit they aren’t perfect?”

  Tom started to say something and then closed his mouth.

  “What?”

  He held up his hands as if to surrender. “Nothing.”

  “You were going to say something.”

  “I hate to say it, but isn’t that exactly what you did when you asked me to pretend everything was fine between us this past summer?”

  Lila groaned. Not her finest moment. When her parents surprised her at the lake house, she panicked. She couldn’t have Mama knowing she planned to divorce Tom, so she asked him to live with her for a few weeks pretending everything was fine.

  She didn’t know it would make her fall in love with him all over again.

  “That’s . . . different.” She turned and walked a few steps away from him.

  “My point is, we can’t get in the middle of it. It’s between your mom and dad and that woman.”

  “My sister. Charlotte.”

  Tom looked at the photo again. “She does seem about the right age.”

  “She seems to be about the same age as me.” Lila glanced at her husband, who shook his head and looked away.

  “Do you think Mama knows? If she doesn’t, and if she’s been defending him—lying for him—she’s going to leave him for sure.”

  “Lila, stop.” He pulled her eyes to his. “You have to calm down. The baby.”

  She knew he was right. She had gotten herself worked up—and for what? She couldn’t let her parents’ mess threaten to steal
their last chance at being a family. Her doctor told her she needed to take every precaution. With her age and her previous miscarriages, Lila couldn’t afford to get worked up about anything. Yet here she was, pacing the floor.

  She plopped down on the bed. “I don’t want to stay here anymore.”

  “I know, I’m trying to find us our own place.”

  “For tonight, let’s go to the Whitmore or I can call Meghan—they have an extra room.”

  “Do you really want to do that?”

  “Yes. Can you help me with my suitcase?”

  Tom hesitated but finally stood and helped her pack—she packed as if they wouldn’t be back to the lake house. She couldn’t be around her parents for one more second—not if they didn’t trust her enough to tell her the truth.

  Maybe leaving them would make them finally fess up.

  They descended the stairs, the entryway dark as the sun had long gone and the moon was too new to give off much light. As they reached the door, Lila saw Mama in the front room, where she sat in her stiff wingbacked chair reading.

  “What are you doing?” More of a demand than a question.

  “Leaving,” Lila said.

  Tom kept his head down, unwilling to engage Cilla and probably praying for a quick exit.

  Daddy walked in from the kitchen. “Leaving for where?”

  “You’re not going back to Georgia early, are you?”

  Her parents planned to go back to Georgia in another day, which meant that no, she most certainly wouldn’t be going back. “We’re staying here through Christmas.”

  “What? Why?” Mama’s eyes darted to Daddy, then Tom and back to Lila.

  Normally, this is when Lila lost her courage. Her mother would shame her into submission. But not this time. She lifted her chin and faced Mama. “I can’t be in a house with two people who refuse to tell the truth.”

  “What on earth are you talking about?” Mama’s accent hung in the air.

  “That woman from the restaurant.” She turned to her father. “You said you didn’t know her.”

  Daddy’s eyes widened and he looked like he’d aged five years in the last few days. “That’s right.”

  “Then why did I find this in your closet?” She produced the faded orange-tinged photo.

  “You went through our closet?” Mama stepped forward and snatched the picture out of Lila’s hand.

  “It was in a Father’s Day card.” She held her voice steady. “So try to come up with a lie to explain that one away. Lucky for you I’m not hanging around to hear it.”

  Lila started to pick up her suitcase, but Tom grabbed it before she exerted herself.

  “Tom, you can’t let her do this.” Mama grabbed his arm. “You know how dramatic she is.”

  Tom looked at Lila, then at her mother. “She’s my wife, Cilla.”

  “But she’s acting like a child.”

  “Demanding the truth sounds pretty adult to me.”

  Cilla scoffed and Tom pulled out of her grasp. “I think it’s best to put a little distance between the three of you.” He leveled Cilla’s glare. “For the baby’s sake.”

  Lila swiped a tear as Tom’s hand pressed into the small of her back. He led her outside into the crisp December air.

  He put their bags into the trunk of the car and pulled away, while Lila stifled unwanted sobs. In the quiet darkness of the moving vehicle, Tom held her hand and let her cry over the years of distance between her and her parents, over the family she was sure she’d just lost and over the fact that she hadn’t earned the right to know the truth—even from her own parents.

  “Where do you want to go?” Tom asked as they drove toward town.

  She couldn’t answer. Suddenly she felt like an orphan—homeless and betrayed. “You decide,” she said.

  When he pulled into Adele’s driveway ten minutes later, something inside her stilled. In that house, she knew she’d find peace and comfort. Tom must’ve known it too.

  Together, like two stray puppies, they walked to the door and knocked, and when Adele pulled the door open and met Lila’s eyes, she ushered them in without asking a single question.

  The way family ought to.

  Campbell

  Campbell lay in bed staring at the ceiling. She didn’t want to look at the clock, knowing she’d see how few hours she had left to sleep. It would only stress her out about how tired she’d be tomorrow.

  I’ll drink a lot of coffee. I’ll be fine.

  She closed her eyes. The light of the streetlamp outside caught her eye. She turned over and faced the wall.

  The heater kicked in.

  She sighed. Useless. She might as well get up and work. At this rate, she’d never fall asleep. Still, she didn’t move. She closed her eyes and the image of the ring popped into her mind. What would it look like on her finger?

  What would it feel like to commit to someone for as long as they both should live?

  What if, after only a few years, he discovered all her flaws and decided he couldn’t live with her for one more day? Worse, what if something happened to Luke? She couldn’t lose anyone else she loved.

  Which meant, maybe she couldn’t love anyone else.

  Who was she kidding? Even now, losing him would be devastating. How had she let this happen? And what hope did she have of protecting herself at this point?

  When morning finally dawned, Campbell felt groggy with the kind of headache that often accompanies a sleepless night.

  As she readied herself for the day, her mind still spun with thoughts of the ring.

  If Luke proposed and she waffled even a little, it could ruin their relationship. Worse, if she said she wasn’t ready, he’d certainly be hurt.

  But pretending she hadn’t seen it wasn’t going to work either, because she’d always been a terrible liar.

  As much as she didn’t want to love him, she didn’t want to lose him either.

  As she walked toward the front of the gallery, the door popped open and a group of people entered. At the center of them, Meghan. Her face lit up when she spotted Campbell, and Campbell forced a smile, though her stomach somersaulted at the sight of Luke’s famous sister.

  She reminded herself that no one knew how many times she’d imagined herself as part of Meghan’s inner circle—not because of her fame, but because Campbell had never had a sister. If she’d already adopted Luke’s family in her own mind, maybe marriage made sense. Maybe it was the next step after all.

  “Hey Campbell,” Meghan said. She turned to her assistant and two men Campbell didn’t recognize. “You guys can wait here, I’ll just be a minute.”

  Meghan approached the counter and rolled her eyes. “I’m sorry to bring them in here.”

  “It’s fine. Maybe they’ll sign up for a class.” Campbell smiled.

  “Nick worked out some crazy deal, and I’m going to have my own Christmas special on TV. Prime time.” She grinned.

  Campbell knew Meghan needed a break to repair her image after everything she’d been through. Maybe this was the break she needed.

  “That’s exciting.”

  “I know, and we’re getting the whole family together at our cottage to go over how it’s all going to go. It’s live, so we need to rehearse.”

  The whole family?

  Campbell didn’t respond.

  “I know it’s short notice, but the whole thing is like that. Would you mind showing up? You and Luke?”

  Campbell’s mind came back to the ring. A camera crew and a Christmas special would be a unique way for a guy to propose. What if this was all part of the ploy to throw her off and keep her guessing?

  “Campbell?” Meghan leaned in closer. “You okay?”

  Campbell shook herself back to reality. “Of course, I’m sorry. It’s just . . .” If she told Meghan about the ring, Luke would find out she snooped. “I’m not sure what I’ll wear.”

  Meghan laughed. “Just not one of those hideous Christmas sweaters. I’m going to have a hard enou
gh time making sure Mama doesn’t show up in her Rudolph sweater. It actually has a reindeer with a light-up nose.”

  Campbell laughed. “You really don’t have to include me in this, Meghan. I won’t be offended if it’s just your family.” She studied the papers on the counter.

  “What are you talking about? You’re practically family already.” Meghan smiled. “At least, that’s what I’m getting from Luke.”

  Campbell’s eyes darted to Meghan’s. Maybe she did know something. Maybe Luke had confided in her or Nick. He and Nick were good friends. “Do you know something?”

  Meghan frowned. “About what?”

  “Nothing, never mind.”

  Meghan stared at her and Campbell shifted from one foot to the other, wishing she’d kept her mouth shut.

  “You seem a little flustered. Is everything okay?” Meghan asked. “Oh gosh, you and Luke aren’t fighting, are you?”

  Campbell shook her head. “No, no, of course not. We’re good. Everything’s good.”

  Campbell could tell by the look on Meghan’s face she didn’t buy it. “Okay, well, I’ll have Luke call you with all the details. I still don’t know what time he’s available.” She turned to go. “You know how it is running your own business.”

  “Sure do.” Campbell smiled and watched Meghan walk out onto the sidewalk, her handlers following close behind. The two men seemed to be setting up camera shots outside the gallery, and Meghan had pulled her phone out while they talked. Probably warning Luke that his girlfriend had gone crazy.

  She wished she’d never opened the black-velvet box. At least then the surprise would let her answer in the moment rather than stewing about it. Across the street, Luke waved at Meghan, who walked over to the café. They talked for a few minutes, then both looked back toward the gallery. Campbell quickly buried her eyes in the paperwork on her desk, but all she could think about was whether or not Meghan had just implemented Luke’s plan.

  If she went to Meghan’s Family Christmas Special, would she end up the main event?

  And if so, would it be the end of the best relationship she’d ever had? She couldn’t bear the thought of ruining what she and Luke had. Even if she hadn’t quite defined it yet.

  Deep in thought, she didn’t hear the door open again, so when she turned and saw Adele walking toward her, she gasped.

 

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