A Sweethaven Christmas

by Courtney Walsh

  Like Mama.

  Lila followed Charlotte into the empty sitting room, and they sat in two wingback chairs in front of the fireplace.

  “I can see why you’d want to come back here every year,” Charlotte said, drawing her legs up underneath her.

  “It does have its charm,” Lila said.

  A strange silence fell between them.

  “I wanted to apologize to you, Lila. I didn’t think through my coming here.” Charlotte wrung her hands. “I wasn’t exactly honest with you before.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’d do anything to save my daughter,” Charlotte said, her eyes glassy. “But I have to admit that a part of me wanted to confront him too. I finally had a reason to find him—to look him up and make him feel guilty for what he did to us.”

  Lila cleared her throat.

  “Maybe I should’ve looked for other options. If I had, your world would still be intact.”

  Lila looked away. It would certainly be nice not to have the inner turmoil of the truth. Part of her thought so anyway.

  “I know it’s hard to imagine, but I want you to know, I don’t blame you for anything.” Charlotte’s lips turned up in a slight smile.

  Lila pressed her lips together and tried not to feel sorry for her sister. But if Lila hadn’t been conceived, none of this would be happening, and everyone would be happier.

  It occurred to her that Campbell probably felt the same way.

  “The truth is, I never really knew him. I spent a lot of years mad about that. Really, really angry that he’d chosen her over my mother and you over me.”

  “I don’t think it was like that, Charlotte.”

  “That’s how it felt.” She stared at her hands, folded now in her lap. “Do you know I wasn’t even a year old when he left us?”

  Lila’s heart sank. How had her father justified his actions for so many years?

  Charlotte looked away. “They were high school sweethearts, my mom and our dad.”

  Lila found herself wanting to know more. “What happened?”

  A sad look crossed Charlotte’s face. “Your mom happened.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. I’ve always felt like it was my fault she lost him. If she hadn’t been pregnant, I wonder if he would’ve strayed.”

  Was Daddy really that shallow?

  “Anyway, I never meant to hurt you in all of this.”

  Lila took a breath. “It’s not your fault. I think it was just time for me to know the truth. I have to admit, it’s helped me take a closer look at the kind of person I want to be. The kind of mother I want to be. That’s gotta count for something, right?”

  Charlotte smiled. “I was lying in bed last night and I started thinking about how something good might come out of this after all.”

  “Such as?” Lila couldn’t imagine anything good coming out of this. Mama swore Charlotte came for Daddy’s money. Charlotte told a different story. How would any of them ever see eye to eye?

  Charlotte rummaged through her purse until she finally pulled out a small book of photos. She handed the book to Lila. “These are my kids.”

  Lila stared at the book. Her sister’s kids. Daddy’s grandkids. His legacy.

  Her thoughts turned to the baby growing inside her. She’d longed for the day she’d hold her own child in her arms—not just for herself, but for her parents. Daddy had always wanted a son. If Lila could give him a grandson, somehow she thought he’d be proud of her. Finally accept her exactly as she was.

  Charlotte cleared her throat. “I was just thinking I may never have the kind of relationship with my father that I want, but I have a sister right here in front of me.”

  The lights from the Christmas tree in the lobby twinkled in the dim light.

  A sister.

  She’d always imagined having someone to play house with, someone’s hair to braid, someone to confide in.

  Lila opened the book and saw three little faces smiling back at her. Two blonde-haired girls and a boy. She ran her finger over their smiles and blinked back tears. “They’re beautiful.”

  Charlotte leaned forward. “This is Drew, he’s the oldest. And the girls, Julia and Maddie.”

  Lila met Charlotte’s eyes and found hopefulness waiting for her there. “Which one is . . . ?” Lila glanced back at the photo.

  “Maddie. My youngest.”

  Maddie’s braided hair boasted a perfectly tied ribbon at the end, and her big brown eyes were so full of life. From the image, Lila never would’ve guessed the girl was sick.

  Charlotte had the life she’d always wanted without any of the bells and whistles. Just the normal, everyday things like soccer practice and dance lessons. Did she know how lucky she was?

  “Lila, I know it’s a lot to ask, but I wondered—”

  The front door opened and sent a gusty chill through the living room, cutting Charlotte off midsentence. The fire flickered as the wind swept through.

  Lila watched until the door closed and found Daddy standing, looking lost and broken, in the lobby. He turned and looked back and forth between them. His face fell.

  “Oh no,” Charlotte said, her voice barely audible.

  Daddy took his hat off and clutched it at his chest, as if it could somehow give him supernatural strength to face them.

  Lila straightened as he walked toward them and wondered if Charlotte would leave or if Daddy would grovel in front of his other daughter.

  “Hello,” Daddy said. “I didn’t expect . . .”

  Lila felt Charlotte’s eyes on her, but she kept her gaze on Daddy. No matter how pathetic he seemed in that moment, she wouldn’t feel sorry for him. He’d done this to himself.

  Her mind wandered back to the last time she’d seen him—how they’d left things unfinished at the concert. It had been humiliating to admit her true feelings to Daddy. And he hadn’t even responded. He’d simply jaunted on the stage like nothing had happened—like her feelings didn’t matter.

  Just like he always had.

  What could he possibly say to her now that would change anything between them? Her eyes had been opened.

  “I’m sorry, I can go.” Charlotte stood.

  Daddy put a hand on her shoulder. “Actually, Charlotte, I came to talk to you.”

  Lila’s jaw went slack and she stared at her father, his eyes intent on the other woman. Always the other woman.

  Campbell

  Campbell stared at her reflection in the mirror. After running her lipstick over her lips, she’d finally completed her look—if only her nerves would calm down.

  Her thoughts fluttered back to the ring, and she glanced down at the empty spot on her left hand.

  She’d imagined Luke’s proposal a hundred times since he asked her to dinner, and while she was trying to remain calm, she wasn’t having much luck.

  The knock on the door startled her. She checked her teeth, then ran her hands through her hair. “It’s time,” she said to herself.

  When she opened the door, Luke’s eyes widened. “Wow. You look amazing.”

  Campbell smoothed the black dress she saved for special occasions. “Thanks. You do too.”

  Luke rarely dressed up, but a fitted suit coat and nice jeans worked for him. He took a step closer, eyes fully on her, without a hint of awkwardness. “You’re beautiful.”

  Campbell tried to respond, but her breath had caught in her throat.

  He smiled, then took his time kissing her. She’d never been treated like something so precious. When he pulled away, he frowned. “Are you okay?”

  Tears had filled her eyes, and even she didn’t realize it until that moment. She nodded. “I’m sorry. Moments I want to remember forever remind me of my mom.” She pulled the door closed and locked it, trying to push away thoughts of how frightened she was to allow herself to love him. Would that fear ever go away?

  Luke opened the door to The Grotto for her, and Campbell walked past him, thankful for the warmth of
the indoors. December had brought with it a bitter cold, and she seemed to shiver through most days. The lobby of the restaurant was decorated for Christmas with swaths of evergreen and twinkling white lights. If the fireplace hadn’t warmed her, the holiday certainly would have.

  Except for the part about missing her mom. She hadn’t expected to feel it so deeply, but as she considered starting a real, grown-up life with Luke, she found herself wishing for Mom’s advice every day.

  The hostess ushered them to a table right in the center of the restaurant, but before they sat, Luke turned to her.

  “I’m sorry, Shellie, do you mind moving us somewhere a little more private?”

  Shellie smiled. “Only because you have the best lattes in town.”

  “Next one’s on me,” Luke said.

  Their table in the corner boasted an exquisite view of the lighthouse and all the privacy they could want. Especially for a special night.

  Campbell hadn’t been the kind of girl to imagine her wedding day. She didn’t watch the royal wedding or spend any money on bridal magazines. But lately, she had been staring at her bare left hand more often than she cared to admit and had tried out her name with Luke’s last name.

  Campbell Barber.

  She could get used to it.

  After they ordered their dinner, Campbell met Luke’s eyes. Nervous energy bubbled inside and she found herself searching for chatter to fill the silence.

  “Are you excited for the Christmas special?” she asked, instantly wishing she hadn’t brought it up.

  “Not if you’re not there with me.”

  She sipped her water. “Well, we both know I’m not a singer, so you’ll have to tough it out.”

  “Campbell, I—”

  “It can’t be all bad having a beautiful girl pretend she’s in love with you.”

  His expression changed. “It is bad if it’s not you.”

  She laughed nervously and the waiter brought their dinner.

  “It looks wonderful,” Campbell said, eyes focused on her plate.

  “I hope you like it.” Luke smiled and they started eating.

  “Meghan’s cottage looks beautiful. How much of that did you do?”

  Campbell listened as Luke explained the various changes he and Nick had made in the old house. She loved hearing him talk about architecture.

  “Someday I want to design and build my own house.”

  Campbell swallowed a bite of chicken. “You do?”

  He nodded. “I’ve already got the perfect place for it.”

  “In Sweethaven?”

  “Just outside of town.” Luke set his napkin on top of his empty plate. “I bought the land a few years ago. Almost have it paid off, then I’m going to build.” He reached into his pocket and Campbell held her breath. He produced a small napkin, but not before he caught her reaction. “You okay?”

  “Yes, of course,” she said, begging herself to get it together.

  Luke handed her the napkin, plain white with the outline of a house drawn on it in black ink.

  “If you flip it over, you can see the floor plan.”

  She did, marveling at how he’d created this home from nothing but his own imagination. “It’s beautiful.”

  “Thanks. I already talked to Nick about what it would take to get it built. I think we might start on it this summer.”

  She set the napkin down and stared at him. “This is really amazing, Luke. You’re really good at this.”

  He grinned. “Don’t tell anyone. I kind of like being ‘just the coffee guy.’”

  “You sell yourself short.”

  He smiled before his expression turned serious. “Cam, I wanted to tell you something.”

  Her heart pounded. “Okay.”

  “At the end of every year, I always look back on the last twelve months and try to figure out how I can make the next twelve better.”

  “Sounds like a smart thing to do.” Campbell heard the words, but they hardly registered.

  “But this year . . .” He looked away. “It’s been, well, amazing. I’m freelancing with my old firm and running the café. It’s the best of both worlds.” He met her eyes. “And you and me.”

  She held his gaze, her breath shallow.

  “I meant it when I told you I loved you.” He took a breath. “And if that makes you uncomfortable, I’m sorry, but it’s how I feel.”

  “No, it doesn’t make me uncomfortable . . .”

  He smiled. “Yes, it does.”

  She smiled but looked away. “Maybe a little, but not because I don’t feel the same way.”

  His eyes widened. “You do?”

  She hadn’t prepared herself for this. Not really. All the imagining in the world couldn’t have prepared her for this.

  The waiter reappeared beside their table. Great timing. Luke leaned back, letting go of her hands.

  “Can I interest you in coffee or dessert?”

  Luke shook his head. Campbell smiled at the man and asked for a cup of coffee. He nodded and hurried off.

  “What is it, Cam? Why are you scared?”

  “I’m not scared,” she said.

  The waiter returned with her coffee, turned her cup over and poured a cup.

  “Thank you.”

  With a slight bow, the waiter left.

  “Then what is it?”

  Campbell stirred cream into her coffee. When she set down the spoon, he reached across the table and took her hand, watching her.

  “Luke, it’s just . . .” She met his eyes, waiting for her response.

  “It’s just what?”

  Campbell looked away. “Maybe I am scared.”

  Images of her mom’s face flashed through her head. The last person she really loved had left her, and that pain—she couldn’t go through that again.

  “Scared of what?”

  Campbell tried to swallow the lump in her throat. When she failed, Luke scooted into the chair next to her and took her hands.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” he said.

  Campbell looked at him, tears clouding her eyes. “My mom didn’t think she was going anywhere either.” She looked down. “People leave, Luke. Whether they want to or not.”

  She quickly swiped away the tears that escaped down her cheeks.

  “If I have anything to say about it, I’m not going anywhere,” Luke said, holding her face in his hands. “Just let me love you.”

  Campbell nodded. “I’ll try.”

  And more than anything, she wanted to.

  Lila

  Lila stood at the door of her parents’ lake house. She knocked again. The pain of Daddy’s words at the Whitmore rushed back fresh, and she wished she could force it all aside and pretend it didn’t hurt her. But it did. His only objective seemed to be making things right with Charlotte, but his actions begged the question “What about me?” like they had so many times before.

  The door opened and Mama stood, perfectly poised, in the entryway. Her eyebrow sprang upward. “Lila?”

  “May I come in—just for a minute?”

  Mama stared at her for a few long seconds and then stepped aside.

  “Would you like to sit down?”

  “No, Mama, I’m meeting Tom in a few minutes, but I wanted to come here and set the record straight.”

  Mama frowned. “I don’t understand.”

  “Charlotte told me you knew about her a long time ago.”

  Mama’s lips tightened. “That woman is delusional. And now she’s got your father thinking he’s got to give her his whole life savings or something. That’s your inheritance, by the way. You’d do well to stay away from her yourself.”

  “Stop it, Mama. Don’t you see what you’ve done?”

  “Lila, I’m the one whose husband has another child.” Mama paused. “But that’s the same role you’ve been playing, isn’t it? Tell me, how do you pretend so well?” Her eyes narrowed, but this time Lila saw what she was doing. Judging her so she didn’t have to turn the attenti
on on herself.

  “You were pregnant when you married Daddy.”

  Mama’s eyes widened. “I was not.”

  “I found your marriage certificate. You were six months pregnant.” Lila forced herself not to cry. “Is that why you hate me so much, Mama?”

  Mama looked away.

  “You blame me for your sham of a life. You have all the money and designer dresses and fancy parties, but you’re married to a man who doesn’t love you. And you think it’s my fault.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Mama turned away.

  Lila drew in a deep breath. “Tell me it’s not true. If you’d never gotten pregnant, you wouldn’t have gotten married. You think it’s my fault. Why else would you be so cold to me all these years?”

  She spun around and faced Lila. “Because you never turned into who you were supposed to be, Lila. You were my daughter. You were supposed to be”—she looked her over—“more.”

  Lila closed her eyes to keep tears from falling. “I know I’m a disappointment to you, Mama, but you don’t have to worry about that anymore. I don’t want you to be a part of my life. It’s too painful.”

  Mama’s expression changed. “You don’t mean that. You’re carrying my grandchild.”

  “I’ve spent my entire life trying to become who you want me to be, and if that’s not good enough for you, there’s nothing more I can do.” Lila thought back to all the times her mother had made her feel like a failure. If she won second place at a pageant, Mama wanted to know why it wasn’t first. She’d been high school salutatorian and Mama wanted a valedictorian. Even as an adult, Lila had wasted so much time being the person she thought Mama wanted her to be.

  Mama met her eyes, and for a moment, Lila thought she looked sad. But Mama’s usual glare quickly returned.

  “You have no idea what it’s been like for me—being married to a liar, raising his daughter.”

  The words struck like a slap across the face. “I’m your daughter too.”

  Mama looked away.

  “All these years, if you’ve been so miserable, why didn’t you just leave?”

  “I made a promise to be married to your father.” Mama met her eyes. “But at least I have no delusions about who he really is.”

  “You did though, didn’t you?” Lila watched her mother for a long moment. Suddenly it started to make sense.