A Sweethaven Christmas

by Courtney Walsh

  “How is this your fault?” Meghan said. “Your parents were grown-ups. You didn’t make them act like teenagers.”

  “Still, if Mama hadn’t gotten pregnant, maybe Daddy never would’ve left that woman and Charlotte’s daughter would have the transplant she needs.”

  Adele leveled her gaze, eyes set on Lila. “Listen to me about one thing. I pride myself in not meddling in any of your business—”

  Meghan let out a laugh and Adele whacked her across the arm. “Stop it, missy,” she said. “I do pride myself. I don’t want to be bossy or tell you what I know. But I’m gonna tell you what I know.”

  Lila nodded. She’d listen to what Adele knew any time.

  “What I see when I look at your mama is a woman tryin’ to keep it together when she’s built her whole life on a house of cards.”

  Lila’s eyes stung and she reached for a napkin.

  “Lie stacked on top of lie. It’s bound to come apart sometime. She’s so worried about what other people will think of her, she’s lived with this horrendous secret her whole life. And now it’s all smackin’ her straight in the face.”

  “Adele, I appreciate what you’re saying, but my mother is the most prideful person I know.” Lila wiped her eyes.

  Adele smiled. “Trust me, hon. Your mama is just as insecure as the rest of us. And I believe she wants nothing more than for her daughter to love and respect her. That’s why she didn’t want you to know the truth about her mistakes.”

  Lila looked away. She wanted to nurse her anger. She didn’t want to feel sorry for her mother—the woman had made her doubt herself at every turn. Cilla Adler certainly didn’t deserve anyone’s pity.

  But as she drove back to the Whitmore that night, a part of her had softened. What if Adele was right? What if her shame had kept Mama from living an honest life?

  Could Lila find it in her heart to forgive the woman she so desperately wanted to put in her place?

  Campbell

  It had taken a bit of convincing, but Campbell agreed to join the others for Meghan’s apology dinner. Sitting through another Adler family drama had her wondering why she hadn’t stayed home in her yoga pants and big sweatshirt.

  As they were about to leave, Campbell’s phone rang. Luke’s name popped up on the caller ID and she excused herself from the table.

  “Hey,” she said into the cell.

  “I’m calling to apologize,” he said. “I didn’t get a chance to see you before you left.”

  “It’s okay.”

  Luke sighed. “No, it wasn’t okay. I should’ve said something. Or bowed out myself.”

  Yeah, you should’ve.

  “Let me make it up to you?” Luke’s voice sounded hopeful. “I’m thinking dinner, just the two of us. I feel like we’ve been around other people for three weeks straight.”

  Dinner alone. Just the two of them. Her pulse quickened, but she kept her voice steady. “Sounds good. When?”

  “Tomorrow night. I’ll pick you up at seven. I want to take you somewhere nice—Rosatti’s or The Grotto. You deserve a nice dinner out. Especially after today.”

  She’d let him grovel a little, though she’d made peace with his pretend girlfriend over the course of dinner. Campbell hung up the phone and found Jane waiting just a few feet away. “Everyone’s by the front door. I thought I’d wait for you.” She handed Campbell her purse.

  “Thanks.”

  “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

  Campbell ran a hand through her hair. “I’m fine. It was just annoying is all.”

  “Was that Luke?” Jane then shook her head. “I’m sorry. How nosy of me.”

  “No, it’s not nosy. It’s kind of nice to have someone getting in my business. My mom was great at that.”

  Jane put a hand on Campbell’s shoulder. “I am always here for you when you need someone to butt in to your business.”

  “Well, yes, since you asked. That was Luke. He wants to take me to dinner to apologize.”

  Jane tilted her head and let out a slight sigh. “He’s so sweet.”

  Campbell looked away.

  Jane leaned in a little closer. “He is sweet, isn’t he?”

  After a deep breath, Campbell closed her eyes. “I found something I wasn’t supposed to. Talk about nosy.”

  “What was it?” Jane looked alarmed.

  “A ring.”

  She clapped her hands over her mouth to conceal what Campbell was sure would’ve been an ear-piercing scream. “A ring?”

  Campbell glanced around the restaurant, thankful no one seemed to be paying attention to them.

  “Yes. An altogether too expensive ring.”

  “He’s going to propose.” She clapped her hands over her mouth again.

  Campbell shook her head. “I don’t know. That was a couple of weeks ago, and to be honest, I kind of wonder if he changed his mind.”

  “Or if he’s going to do it tomorrow night at dinner. Where’s he taking you?”

  “To The Grotto. Or Rosatti’s. He said he’s not sure.”

  Jane gasped. “He’s going to propose.”

  But Campbell reminded herself that she’d expected his proposal twice now and been disappointed both times. After today, she wondered if it would ever happen.

  “What are you going to say?”

  “I don’t know,” Campbell said. “I thought for a while I didn’t want him to ask, but now I’m not sure anymore.”

  Jane smiled. “I think whatever happens, you’re just going to know. In that moment, you’re going to know if it’s right.”

  The others stood beside Angelo at the cash register, and as they approached, Campbell said a silent prayer of thanks that the man’s voice drowned out her conversation with Jane. “Do you think I should marry him?” she whispered.

  The smile on Jane’s face faded and she stopped walking. “Honey, I think if you love him you absolutely should marry him. But only you can make that decision.” Then, as if she’d read Campbell’s mind, Jane said, “And if your mom were still here, I think she’d say the same thing.”

  Campbell looked away, her eyes scanning the old tables and red chairs in the restaurant. “She always had a way of helping me make the right decisions.”

  “And she raised you to learn to make them for yourself. Trust me, hon. You’re going to be okay. Tomorrow night, you get yourself all dolled up and enjoy every second because this is one of the most exciting times in your whole life.”

  “I just wish she were here for it.”

  Jane pulled Campbell into a tight hug. “I do too, Cam. I really do.”

  Jane

  Jane turned the key in the front door, her stomach still growling. She’d ordered a salad with light vinaigrette dressing, but it hadn’t filled her up. It hadn’t even made a dent. While everyone ordered dessert, Jane sipped her ice water with lemon and pretended her mouth wasn’t watering at the sight of chocolate cake.

  Now in the kitchen—the most dangerous room in the house—she wished she had cookies or ice cream or something sweet. Just a bite. It would take care of the craving.

  But one bite would lead to two, which would lead to three . . . and pretty soon she’d have inhaled two thousand calories.

  She knew because she’d looked up her favorite treats, hoping the numbers would deter her from bingeing. So far, it had worked.

  Jane stared into the refrigerator. She’d purposely thrown away everything tempting, buying only fresh fruits and natural foods. At the checkout, though, she realized the sad truth that eating healthy might be great for her waistline, but it sure wouldn’t be great for her bank account. She spent almost two hundred dollars on food that was supposed to last a week.

  So unfair.

  Now, she regretted it. Would anything take away this craving?

  The back door opened and the girls walked in, chattering until they saw her standing in the dark, refrigerator door wide open. They were in Sweethaven for a long weekend before finals started.
r />   Jane had been gone all day and she forgot they’d come back for the weekend.

  “Mom?” Emily flipped the light on.

  “What are you doing?” Jenna stared at her.

  Caught like a cat with a bird in its mouth, Jane shut the door and turned away.

  “Just eat, Mom. What’s the big deal?” Emily went to the freezer and pulled out a carton of ice cream.

  “Where’d that come from?” Jane stared at it.

  “You can’t expect us to give up everything you’re giving up.” Emily opened the carton and scooped the fudge ripple into a bowl. “Want some, Jen?”

  Jenna glanced at Jane and shook her head. “No. I’m not hungry.”

  How did she do that? How did she turn down ice cream like it was the easiest thing in the world? Like it had no hold over her whatsoever?

  God, please let me get to that point.

  “But you probably shouldn’t eat it in front of Mom,” Jenna said.

  “Mom, if you want some, have some.” Emily held it up to Jane.

  Jane looked away.

  Jenna grabbed the container, closed it and put it away at the back of the freezer. “Emily, what is wrong with you?”

  “We don’t need to lose weight, so why can’t we eat like we always do?”

  Jane’s heart sank. Her family hadn’t been as receptive to these changes as she’d hoped, and suddenly she realized that she couldn’t live in this bubble alone forever. “I’m sorry, Em. If you want to eat junk food, you’re going to have to make it for yourself.”

  “But since when is pasta junk food?” Emily ate a bite of her ice cream. “I mean, you won’t buy anything good anymore. It’s lame.”

  “Someday maybe you will appreciate it. Someday when you go to your doctor and you don’t have any cause for concern, you can look back on this time as the time your mother finally taught you about nourishing your body. And that junk food”—Jane glanced at the bowl of ice cream—“isn’t going to do it.”

  Emily shrugged. “It’s just totally unfair that you’re making this big decision for all of us. Like, we have no say in it at all. It’s not our fault you’re fat.”

  Jane gasped. The words sliced into her and her mind whirled back to junior high school. Jane walked toward the lunch table carrying her hot lunch tray when one of the girls stuck a foot into the aisle. Jane crashed to the floor, her chicken nuggets and french fries flying across the cafeteria. The crash of her silverware hitting the tiled floor silenced the entire cafeteria, before the room erupted in laughter.

  Tears stung Jane’s eyes.

  “No reason to cry about it. Trust me, you can stand to skip a meal,” one of the girls said.

  Jane ran to the bathroom, ketchup smeared across her shirt. She burst through the door and came face-to-face with Emma O’Dell.

  “It’s your turn, huh?” Emma sat on the radiator, feet propped up on the sink.

  “What do you mean?” Jane wiped her cheeks, then wet a paper towel, trying—and failing—to rid herself of the red stain on the front of her shirt.

  “They sent notes around this morning and told everyone not to talk to you. Said if any of the girls hung out with you they’d regret it.”

  Jane sniffed. “But why?”

  The girl shrugged. “I was on the list last month. That’s why I bring my lunch now and eat in here.”

  “In the bathroom?”

  “It beats out there.” She held up half her sandwich. “Want some?”

  Jane stared at the offering through clouded eyes. She took the sandwich. “Thanks.”

  She spent the rest of the year hiding from those girls and determined to never say a mean thing about anyone—because she knew how it felt to be the butt of everyone else’s jokes.

  Now, standing in front of her daughters, Jane fought back new tears and wondered if she’d raised a daughter who thought it was okay to call people names. Was Emily the kid who tripped the less popular girls and made them cry?

  “Emily, I think you should go to your room,” Jane said, in the calmest voice possible.

  “Mom, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to come out that way.” But Emily’s tone told the truth—her daughter wasn’t sorry, at least not for saying something hurtful. Sorry that Jane had decided to send her to her room.

  “Emily. Go to your room.”

  Her daughter stared at her. “This is so stupid.” She walked out, leaving Jane standing in the kitchen.

  Jenna took a step toward her. “I’m sorry, Mom. I’ll talk to her.”

  “It’s okay,” Jane said.

  But as Jenna left the kitchen, loneliness swept through Jane. She’d wished she had someone to do this with her, but she knew she couldn’t rely on anyone else to make her lose weight. Her success rested solely in her hands, in her choices.

  And in that moment, she wanted to choose ice cream. She wanted to douse it in hot fudge, curl up in her bed and forget about her worries.

  Her thoughts turned to tomorrow. How would she feel if she woke up with the memory of her own weakness clawing at her? How would she digest the truth that she’d allowed a weak moment to undo her hard work in an instant?

  With a hand on the freezer door, Jane took a breath. “Help me, God,” she said. “I want the ice cream, but I know it’s not good for me. I know I’ll be miserable tomorrow if I give in.”

  She stood for a few moments waiting for some magical heaping of self-control to fall on top of her, but nothing happened.

  Emily had left the hot fudge on the counter, and Jane stared at it as the seconds ticked by. She actually considered turning the bottle over and squeezing the chocolate straight into her mouth.

  Her thoughts turned to the hours she’d logged at the gym.

  “Not this time,” she said, finally mustering the courage with every last ounce of willpower. She capped the bottle, stuck the chocolate back in the fridge and walked out of the room, shutting off the light as she did.

  “Not this time.”

  She knew she was doing the right thing, and she had heard countless times that it would get easier, but in that moment, nothing felt further from the truth.

  Lila

  Lila felt like she’d just stepped back in time as she walked up to the cottage where Tom had grown up. “It’s kind of surreal,” he said, jiggling the doorknob on the front door. “Huh. Still loose.”

  She smiled. He’d gotten in touch with the owner, who, it turned out, rarely made it to Sweethaven anymore and had been thinking of listing the house. He’d sent a key to Pearl, who waited for them inside.

  Lila stood on the front porch and surveyed the front lawn. Several mature oak trees dotted the expansive yard, and Lila loved that it seemed so private. For a brief moment, she could almost see their little boy or girl riding a tricycle up and down the long driveway.

  “You coming?” Tom’s voice from inside reminded Lila there was more to a house than memories. She walked inside and found Pearl standing in the kitchen.

  “Tom, it’s so much more open than I remember it,” Lila said. From the entryway, Lila could see an oversize family room, a formal dining room and a kitchen that opened up to a large deck off the back of the house.

  “It’s so much smaller than I remember,” Tom said.

  “We’d have to paint. And replace the floors.” Lila imagined white woodwork and cabinets with gray walls and rich curtains.

  “But that’s all cosmetic,” Tom said. “We could do that easily. Might even be fun.”

  “The new owners have kept the house in pristine shape.” Pearl flipped through a stack of papers inside a manila folder. “Looks like they don’t even rent it out for the summers.”

  Tom looked over the paperwork, then met Lila’s eyes. “Hon, we can work with this.”

  She went upstairs and peeked in on the three bedrooms and two bathrooms. The master had a large walk-in closet, its own bathroom and plenty of space. Lila pulled the curtains back and nearly gasped. The view of the lake all but took her breath
away.

  “This is it,” she said.

  “What’d you say, hon?” Tom stood in the hallway, checking out the linen closet.

  “This is our house.” She turned and faced him.

  He smiled. “Then let’s buy it.”

  Tom and Pearl headed back to her office to write up the offer, but Lila needed to rest. She drove back to the Whitmore already assembling a mental mood board to start decorating their new cottage. Mama always thought Tom’s parents weren’t good enough to associate with—what would she say when she found out Lila planned to buy their old cottage?

  It didn’t matter. Lila had a good feeling about this place. About this new life.

  She parked the Mercedes in a parking space around the back and used her room key to let herself into the bed-and-breakfast. Sweethaven welcomed many tourists every summer, but the need for hotels was scarce, giving the Whitmore a monopoly on out-of-town lodging. She walked into the foyer and glanced into the common area, where she saw Charlotte reading on the chaise longue in the corner.

  Her stomach flip-flopped at the sight of her, and Lila couldn’t rid herself of the idea that if the woman had simply stayed put, her life wouldn’t be such a mess right now.

  Sometimes she welcomed blissful ignorance.

  But the idea shamed her. Charlotte hadn’t come here to turn Lila’s world upside down. She’d come in search of a cure for her ailing child. How could Lila—or anyone else—fault her for that?

  She started up the stairs, but Charlotte hurried toward her.

  “Lila, wait.”

  Lila turned and faced her.

  “I hoped we could talk. I’ve been waiting for you.”

  “How’d you know I was here?” Lila came down a step.

  Charlotte shifted. “Your father told me.”

  Lila looked away. Had she and Daddy been getting reacquainted?

  “I know you’re probably exhausted. Could I just have a few moments of your time?” Charlotte wore jeans and a lightweight sweater and looked laid back, yet put together. She had an easiness about her. One Lila envied. Everything about her had gotten uptight and critical.