“Awaiting me, you mean.” Alethea set her tea mug in the sink and Xander took a final look at the sanctuary plans he’d painstakingly created. “After some more thought—”
“More thinking? Awesome.” He folded the paper in half, then in quarters.
“After some more thought,” Alethea snapped, “I’ve decided I’m going to tell everyone myself. You were right. If I’m going to do this, I’m going to do it on my own. Without you.”
“Best idea ever,” he muttered. “Did Calliope help you come up with that?”
“No. I can see for myself what a jerk you can be. Guess it was only a matter of time before I did. How’d your meeting with the mayor go?”
“Great,” he lied. It might have gone great. If he hadn’t canceled the appointment. Better Butterfly Harbor go with a firm that could keep an emotional distance from...the committee. He dropped the plans into the trash by the table.
“Did you get the job?” She hoisted her backpack over her shoulder and followed him to the door.
“They’ll announce after the first of the year. I’ve already checked out so we can head straight to the airport.”
“Wait. What about Calliope? And Jason and Stella? Aren’t you going to say goodbye?”
“I did last night.” As if his conversation with Calliope hadn’t been excruciating enough, he’d had to say goodbye to a teary-eyed Stella, who had begged him to stay. To spend Christmas with them. To be her and Calliope’s family.
How did he explain to a ten-year-old that not all dreams came true? That he already had a family, a family that needed him. A family that expected him to fix everything that had gone wrong over the last year. He hadn’t even tried, and instead held the little girl close and waited until her sobs abated before he left the holiday market and Duskywing Farm behind.
“You aren’t coming back, are you?” Alethea asked once they reached the car and started loading their bags into the trunk.
“No.” Xander took one last long look at the ocean. That peaceful, blissful ocean that a little over a week ago had sounded so deafening. His heart jumped in his chest as he caught sight of Calliope, walking along the shore, the brilliant red of her hair glimmering in the midmorning sun.
She stopped, turned her face toward him as the flickering wings of her butterflies caught the light. One broke away, bouncing along the wind as it flittered and flew toward him. The insect landed on the roof of his car, mere inches from his hand, its wings pulsing up and down.
“Xander?” Alethea whispered.
“I’m not coming back.” But to the butterfly, he said, “Goodbye.”
He backed out and turned onto Monarch Lane, leaving Butterfly Harbor and Calliope Jones forever.
* * *
“WE WON!” MARLIE, Stella and Charlie’s squeals and yelps echoed up and down the beach after the winners of the gingerbread sandcastle competition were announced by Jake “Santa Claus” Campbell. The three girls joined hands and encircled Calliope as they danced and hollered and whooped in celebration. “We won third place!”
Calliope couldn’t help it. She pressed her hands to her lips and laughed. There was something exhilarating about placing, she found. Although she couldn’t help but feel sorry for Simon, who, after getting an earful from Kyle about how disrespectful he’d been to Charlie, had been left on the sidelines without a team. With more than a dozen groups of kids of varying ages, coming in third was pretty darn good.
“Xander was right,” Charlie yelled. “We just made the best castle we could and it worked!”
“It was the seashell moat,” Calliope told her as she bounced up and down. “Yours was the only one that didn’t lose its water.” Although personally she liked the seashell shingles along the roof.
“Victory!” Charlie threw her hands up in the air in a giant V. As she turned around, she spotted Simon headed her way. Hands linked behind his back, head down, he stopped and stared at her castle.
“It looks great,” he said.
Charlie scrunched up her face and nodded. “Thanks. I’m sorry you didn’t get to enter.”
“It’s my own fault. I’m sorry, Charlie.” Simon kicked sand and lifted his chin a bit. “I wasn’t a very good friend.”
Stella nudged Charlie forward. “That’s okay. I guess I wasn’t either. We should have talked about it. I don’t like to fight, especially with you.” She held out her hand. “Friends again?”
“Sure.” Simon smiled, then laughed as Charlie threw her arms around his neck and squeezed. Stella and Marlie joined in.
“You were right, Calliope!” Stella shouted over her friends’ heads before running to her sister. “Everything worked out just fine.” She locked her arms around Calliope’s waist and squeezed.
Calliope hugged her tight. Stella had slept with Calliope for the last few nights, first because she couldn’t stop crying over Xander leaving. And yesterday because they’d said goodbye to Emmaline one final time.
At Holly’s urging, Luke had taken the day off and driven Calliope and Stella to oversee the transfer. They’d sat with Emmaline, who was now confined to a wheelchair. At least she had a backyard and a beautiful garden. Emmaline’s doctor had arrived with the new facility’s patient-care representative and assured Calliope she had made the right decision. In fact, the only decision she could have made.
Calliope held Stella’s hand as Emmaline was wheeled to the transportation van. A solitary butterfly dropped from the trees and flitted around Emmaline’s head.
As they lowered the mechanical platform, Emmaline had sat up straight and held up a hand. Her amethyst eyes brightened.
Calliope’s heart seized in her chest, and she held on tight to Stella’s hand.
“M-mm-my...” Emmaline’s lyrical voice caught as her eyes filled.
“Mama,” Calliope whispered.
“M-my girls. Those are my girls.”
“Mama?” Stella called as the butterfly fluttered away.
And Emmaline disappeared one last time.
“Best Christmas gift ever,” Calliope murmured to herself now as she pulled herself back into the moment, to the beach and the celebratory joy for her sister and her sister’s friends.
“Huh?” Stella looked up at her, nose wrinkled in confusion.
“It’s just a beautiful day,” Calliope explained.
“Did they win?”
Lori and Matt found them among the crowds who were taking pictures of themselves with the castles and those who had created them.
“Oh, they won.” Calliope beamed. “I thought you were working.”
“I was. We are,” Matt said. “Lori found something at the inn she thought you should see.”
“We’re getting all the rooms ready for this afternoon for the wedding guests and film crews, and I was cleaning Xander’s cabin.” Lori reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. “This was in the trash.”
“What is it?” Stella rose up on her toes to see as Calliope took the paper and unfolded it.
She knew, even before she looked, what she’d find. “It was in the trash? But he was supposed to meet with Gil—”
“Xander canceled the meeting,” Matt said as he looked toward the shore, where Charlie and Simon continued to hug it out. “I checked with Gil before we came out here. He lied, by the way.”
“The mayor lied?” Stella’s eyes went wide with disbelief.
“Happens more than you’d think,” Calliope said. “About what exactly?”
“Gil didn’t call any other architects. He thought the idea of competition might kick Xander into gear.”
Lori muttered, “I’m sorry, Calliope. What Xander came up with is amazing. It would have been perfect for Butterfly Harbor.”
“Yes, it would have been.” Calliope couldn’t stop staring. “It’s all him.” She clutched the drawing
to her chest.
“No, it’s not.” Stella grabbed at the page and pulled it down so she could see. “It’s you, Calliope. I look at that and I see you. Those glass stones, the water. The ribbons in the trees. That’s all you.”
“Out of the mouths of babes,” Matt said with a grin. “Gil’s in his office for the next few hours. In case you want to drop by. As an official committee member that is. If you had a recommendation to make?”
“He’d have to come back.” Stella squealed and jumped up and down. “Calliope, if he builds the sanctuary he’ll have to come back to Butterfly Harbor!”
“I can’t do that.” As much as she wanted to see him again, as much as she missed him, it wouldn’t be fair. To either of them. “I love him. I can’t manipulate him like that.”
“Sure you can.” Lori snorted. “What?” She gaped at her husband, who looked shocked. “She loves him. She just said it. And what’s love but a special kind of magic? Magic you of all people know how to use, Calliope.” She held out her hand to Stella. “Come on, kiddo. you and your team deserve hot fudge sundaes at the diner. Your sister has someplace to be. Right, Calliope?”
“Ah. But I’m—” Calliope shivered.
“Right.” Matt held her by the shoulders and pivoted her toward the stairs.
“What if he says no?”
“Gil?” Matt asked.
“No. Xander.” Calliope didn’t think she had enough hope left inside of her. “What if he gets the job and he turns it down?” She wasn’t sure she could bear him walking away, even metaphorically, a second time.
“I think you’re asking yourself the wrong question, Calliope.” Matt moved in and pulled her into a hug. “What if he says yes?”
* * *
“AT SOME POINT are you going to be in the Christmas spirit or are we just going to call you Scrooge from now on?” Antony dropped onto the sofa in their parents’ spacious living room and pushed a mug of hot chocolate into his hand. “Mom’s orders. Drink up.”
“Is there cyanide in it?” Xander looked down at the melting whipped cream and sniffed. “I don’t smell almonds.” He sipped, sipped again and managed to find a grin. “Ah, peppermint schnapps. Nice.” Another half a dozen of these and he might become jolly after all.
A fire roared in the fireplace, offsetting the cascade of snow that had been falling since his and Alethea’s plane landed days before. The live Christmas tree in the corner had been decorated the day after Thanksgiving with the family’s history of ornaments, which should have lightened his heart. There would be no skiing this year. No family trips. Just a nice quiet holiday at home while his father continued his therapy.
“Dad seems a lot better than the last time I saw him,” Xander said.
“He’s turned a corner.” Antony drank his own hot chocolate. “Seemed to happen all of a sudden, too. Mom was taking him to PT about a week ago and once she got him out of the car and into his chair, he made her stop. He put out his hand and caught a butterfly.” Antony chuckled. “A butterfly. In Chicago. In winter. You know, one of those orange-and-black ones—”
“Monarchs.” Xander’s chest tightened. “They’re called monarchs.”
“Yeah, well, ever since then, he’s been nonstop. His speech has improved and his therapists are accelerating his strength training. They’re saying he can start trying to walk again in a few weeks. If I didn’t know any better, I’d bet it was—”
“Magic.”
“Okay, if you’re going to start interrupting me all the time, I’m going to need another drink.”
Xander watched his brother leave, his heart ka-thudding in time to the Perry Como CD that was his mother’s favorite. The sounds of his squealing nephew and niece echoed from the playroom, while Ophelia, Dyna and Alethea argued over which vegetable would accompany the ham currently roasting in the oven.
Butterflies again. How was it he could be in the middle of a deep-freeze winter and still end up with butterflies on the brain. He ran a hand over his chest, over his heart, and wondered when the ache would go away. Today was the gingerbread-sandcastle competition. He wondered how Marlie, Stella and Charlie had done. Had Calliope managed all right? Had Charlie and Simon made up? What plans had Kendall decided on for the lighthouse? By now the camera crews and photographers and guests had to have arrived for the wedding. The town would be packed to the rafters. He could only imagine that Abby was going a bit frantic, but Calliope would be there to support her. And make sure the day went off without a hitch.
Calliope. In that beautiful indigo dress. With the butterflies sparkling against her skin.
“Dinner will be ready soon.” His mother came out of the kitchen wiping her hands. Helen Costas carried life as effortlessly as the wind carried a leaf. He wasn’t sure he admired or respected anyone more. Until recently. Guilt pinged strong and deep as he remembered the words he’d thrown so callously at Calliope. How he’d denigrated all that she was; all that she’d made of her life. And why? Because she dared to care about his sister? Boy, when he messed something up, he really went all in. What he wouldn’t give to take it back. “Is the chocolate okay?”
“It’s perfect, Mom. Have we arrived at the moment I’ve been dreading?”
“What moment would that be?” She took the seat Antony had abandoned.
“Lecture time. I’m waiting for you to tell me how much I screwed up. First with the business, then with Alethea.”
“Why would I lecture you on something that you have no control over, Xander?” She took hold of one of his hands and squeezed. “This family is more than an architectural firm. Your father knows that. Deep down. Whatever happens, we will be just fine. And as for your sister...” Helen inclined her head and sighed. “I will admit I don’t like the idea of her being out in California all alone, or her leaving school, but I can’t argue with her reasoning. This is her life. Worrying those few days that something had happened to her, that we might have lost her, made me realize there’s nothing more important in this world to me than my children’s happiness.” She caught his chin in her hand. “All of my children.”
He knew that prying look. He squirmed in his seat. “I’m fine, Mom.”
“I don’t think you are. But I think you could be.”
Xander rolled his eyes. “Whatever Alethea’s told you—”
“She’s told me nothing,” Helen interrupted. “Well, nothing much. You told me. When you said Calliope’s name over the phone. I’ve never heard that tone in your voice before. That sense of wonder. I dare say it was almost—”
“Please don’t say magical. Just...don’t.”
“We want presents!” Ophelia charged into the room, her sisters right on her heels as they dropped into a semicircle around the base of the tree. The three of them together couldn’t have looked more different—Ophelia’s practical ponytail and classic-rock T-shirt, Dyna’s tailored slacks and expensive sophisticated bob, Alethea’s floaty, flirty blouse that accentuated the blue hues in her long, curly hair. It was a picture he wouldn’t soon forget.
“Tomorrow is Christmas Eve,” Helen admonished as Antony’s wife, Marcy, joined them. “You can wait until then.”
“We want to open Xander’s presents. Alethea said he got them in Butterfly Harbor.” Dyna snatched the five gift bags he’d haphazardly chosen. “Come on, Mom. There’s one for you.” She shook one of the bags in the air.
“Not without the entire family. Kids? Antony? Bring your father! We’re opening some gifts!”
Xander gaped. Never in his entire life had his mother approved of opening presents early. “Did I come back to some alternate reality?”
“Maybe we’re just ready to make some changes around here,” Helen said. “A lot of changes.”
“That doesn’t sound ominous at all—oof. Geez, Jeremy. You’re heavier than a linebacker.” He hauled his three-year-old nephew into his lap after the kid lau
nched himself at him. “What are you feeding him?”
Jeremy howled while his four-year-old sister, Iris, draped herself over Alethea’s back.
“Hang on, we’re coming.” Antony wheeled Cyril Costas into the room and settled him by the fireplace.
“Nice,” Cyril said with a slow nod. He looked at Xander, something akin to pride shining in his blue eyes. “Nice family.”
“The best,” Alethea boasted as she twisted her niece around to hug her against her chest. “All together?”
“Might as well, they’re all the same thing.” Xander suddenly wished he’d been more creative with his choices. But the looks on their faces as each of the women in his family unwrapped the silver butterfly bracelets was worth the excursion.
“They’re beautiful,” Dyna whispered as she clamped hers onto her wrist. “Look! The wings sparkle.” She angled it toward the lights of the tree. “Thanks, Xander.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Xander’s turn.” Cyril announced.
“My...what?” Xander sat up as a manila envelope was placed on his lap. He looked at Dyna, who shrugged as if she hadn’t been the one to put it there.
“I only do what I’m told. You owe me. It’s not everyone I’d go into the office for Christmas week.”
“Why would you have to... What is this?” And why were his hands shaking?
“Open.” Cyril pointed a finger to the envelope.
“You heard him,” Antony said. “Open it.”
He did. But he didn’t quite understand what he’d pulled free. He saw his name on the legal documents. He saw the firm’s name. And a...transfer of ownership? Blood rushed through his veins, roared in his ears.
“You’re buying us out,” Antony told him. “Well, you’re buying the name at least. The rest of the company we’re selling.”
“No.” Xander shook his head. “No, Antony, we talked about this—”
“Not. With. Me.” Cyril cut him off. “My. Decision.”
“Dad.” Xander shook his head. His father wasn’t up to making any important decisions. Not now. Not for a while.
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