The Christmas House

by Victoria James

  After what must have been an hour, her knuckles red and throbbing from knocking, her throat parched and her body shaking with cold, she knew it was time to go. Pride broke through the sorrow, prodding her upright, and she stood on shaking limbs. Buttoning her wool coat, she stumbled down the front walk, her heels no match for the slippery layer of snow. She just needed to think of a plan, where she would go, who would take her in. Snow tumbled from the black sky and swirled around her, frenzied and hostile.

  She stared down at her hands and saw her father’s hand holding hers. How many times had she clung to his hand? How many times had he been a hero to her? And now? Now what? That hand wouldn’t hold hers when she needed it most? That hand promised only conditional love.

  She numbly felt for coins in her pocket as she walked down her street. Richard was dead. Her parents had disowned her, and in a few days it would be Christmas. In a few months she would be a mother. Without a husband, without family, without a job, and without a significant amount of money. She let out another sob, the dense, damp, winter air capturing her breath.

  Walking without knowing where to go, wind whipped mercilessly around her and Ruby knew she would never let them win, she would never join Richard. She walked for what felt like hours, huddled inside her thin coat, her feet soaked, her face icy. She walked until one building beckoned, the lights inside glowing extra bright, almost pulling her forward even though she didn’t think she could walk another step.

  Through blurred eyes, Ruby read the words: The Sisters of St. Michael’s. She knew of them. Their compassion and charitable work were legendary. But not for her. There wouldn’t be grace for her.

  The snow had turned to freezing pellets of rain, and her hair was heavy, matting to her head, filled with icicles as she slowly, painfully lifted her face to the sky and prayed to the same God her parents believed in. She closed her eyes and prayed for guidance, for grace, for salvation as ice battered her skin.

  “Are you all right, dear?”

  Ruby opened her eyes, alarmed to see a woman walking toward her.

  “Do you need help? Do you have anywhere to go?”

  Ruby’s lip trembled, and she was mortified because the emotions she usually hid so well were bubbling to the surface. “I … I will find somewhere.”

  The woman tilted her head. “I’m Sister Juliette. Why don’t you come inside and warm up? There’s a hot dinner waiting inside by the fire, and if you need a warm bed tonight, we have those too.”

  Ruby held her gaze, reading the truth in her eyes. “Thank you, Sister, but I’m not … I don’t belong inside. I’ve done something and …”

  Sister Juliette reached out and placed her hand on Ruby’s shoulder. “Come inside, my dear. No one will judge you here. You are safe. You are welcome.”

  Ruby clutched her hands together tightly, trying to find the strength to trust this woman, but refusing to lie about herself. “I’m pregnant. I don’t have a husband. I’m alone.”

  Sister Juliette put her arm around Ruby’s shoulders, pulling her in like a lost sheep. “You are never alone. Come inside, dear. Rest, eat, pray.”

  Tears ran down Ruby’s cheeks as they walked up the steps, the kindness shown to her by this stranger, a warm blanket on her soul.

  If she’d known then that Sister Juliette was going to save her life, to give her purpose and direction, she would have slept peacefully that night. Instead, she lay awake in the narrow but clean and warm bed, staring at the ceiling, hating herself, crying for her parents and Richard, afraid for her future.

  After she finally whispered the prayers she’d whispered her entire life, she vowed that she would never again be weak, vulnerable, and would never again lose her soul for a man. And if she was given another chance, a new life, she knew that the way forward would be with the grace the sisters had shown her. She would never shut her door on a soul in need.

  * * *

  Wyatt held the door open a little wider. “Come on in,” he said, a jolt of awareness rocking through him as Charlotte shot him a smile and entered the house. A memory hit him as he caught that smile; it was the one she used to give him when he’d hold the door open for her at their apartment building. She’d always made him feel like he was good enough. It had been a new feeling for him—in his home, he’d never been good enough. He had been shown with a hand or a belt or whatever object was lying around just how little he meant. He had learned how to be a man, though, by being the exact opposite of his father.

  “This is weird, isn’t it?” Charlotte said softly, looking up at him with those blue eyes that seemed to take him right back to Toronto and the eighth grade.

  He shoved his hands in his pockets, knowing he owed her more than he had given her last night, even if it made him uncomfortable. He didn’t want her to ask why he’d disappeared. He wouldn’t lie, but he hated looking back to those days and how powerless he was. “It’s one hell of a coincidence.” Charlotte’s dark hair fell in glossy waves around her shoulders and her neck, and the green scarf she was wearing deepened the color of her blue eyes to dark sapphire.

  “I know … I’m sorry. I’ll be quick. I didn’t mean to just barge over here unannounced. I was just planning on slipping this under the rug and … It was just … your aunt was so persuasive …”

  He wasn’t being welcoming enough, and now she was doubting herself. He forced himself to relax and not act like an ass. The last thing he wanted was to make Charlotte uncomfortable. “Bossy. I think the word might be bossy.”

  She smiled up at him, a soft laugh escaping her mouth. “Maybe.”

  He smiled back. “Trust me. This was nice of you. Thank you.”

  She shrugged and took a step back toward the door. “You don’t have to use it anytime soon. I know it’s the holidays and totally not a time to be organizing your house.”

  “Dad, I can’t find anything in this stupid pantry! Do you know where the peanut butter is?” Sam yelled before appearing in the doorway. Her eyes darted to Charlotte and her face turned red.

  Wyatt stifled his grin of satisfaction at Sam’s embarrassment. “Charlotte, this is Samantha, my daughter. Sam, this is Ruby’s granddaughter … and an old friend.”

  Charlotte gave her a friendly wave. “Nice to meet you, Samantha.”

  Wyatt hoped like hell Sam wouldn’t ask how they knew each other. He didn’t want to get into that with Sam. The fewer questions about that time in his life, the better. He also didn’t want to get into that day when he’d left school. There were things that were better off buried. “Nice to meet you too. Did you, um, say something about organizing? My dad really needs major help,” she said, leaning against the doorjamb and crossing her arms like a seasoned sergeant.

  Wyatt shook his head. For someone who was so concerned about being embarrassed all the time, his daughter clearly had no qualms about humiliating him.

  Before he could defend himself and not appear like a giant slob, Charlotte spoke up.

  “Well, it’s hard to keep on top of everything. Your Aunt Mary was telling me how busy your dad is at work, and that was why she wanted him to get some extra help. I find a lot of times, people just need the right organizational tools and techniques and then it’s smooth sailing. Anyway, I’ll just leave that gift certificate with you. It was great meeting you, Samantha. I’ll see you guys later,” she said with a smile that made him want her to stay. That wasn’t new. Charlotte had always had the sweetest smile, one that made him want to latch onto her light.

  “Nice to meet you too,” Sam said.

  He cleared his throat and turned back to Charlotte. “Do you want to come in for a coffee?”

  “Oh, no, thanks. I hate intruding and being that drop-in guest that everyone dreads. I really was planning on leaving it on the doorstep,” she said with a small laugh and taking a step back, bumping into the door.

  “That’s okay. My dad has nothing to do tonight anyway.”

  Wyatt clenched his jaw but hoped that his smile did an adequate job of
hiding it. Charlotte bit her lower lip and lifted sparkling eyes to him.

  He shrugged. “It’s true. I was just planning on arguing with a preteen about makeup and reminiscing about flip phones.”

  Her gaze darted to the door and then back to him, and he tensed, disappointment already filling him at the prospect of her leaving. “Okay, well then, I’d love to.”

  He shot her a smile, surprised by how happy he was. Maybe Scott was actually onto something about not wanting to be alone. “Follow me, but no judgment,” he said as they walked toward the kitchen, suddenly worried that he might actually be the slob his daughter made him out to be. It’s not like he intended on being disorganized, it just happened somehow. He could never let things slide at work, but at home, there was just too much happening and he was usually too wiped by the end of the day to worry about the state of his kitchen cupboards. After Leanne had walked out on them, he’d been left struggling and had never really found a way to manage all of it. He assumed that when Sam got older, life would get easier. He hadn’t counted on her love of dance and how much time all the extracurricular stuff would take up. There had never been enough money growing up for him to be able to pick up a sport, and he still remembered what it felt like to listen to all the other kids talk about their hockey or baseball games. He wanted more for Sam and wanted her to pursue whatever she wanted. But that left little time for all the other household tasks.

  “Your home is lovely,” Charlotte said, looking around.

  There was a quiet confidence about her, and he liked the way she easily maneuvered her way around his daughter’s comments. Sam was another surprise—if he didn’t know better, he’d actually think that she’d wanted Charlotte to stay. “Thanks. It was sort of a move-in ready place. It was built in the fifties, but the previous owners did a lot of updating and renovations. Which is what I wanted because I had no time to tackle a reno,” he said as they walked into the kitchen. “It’s bigger than we need for just the two of us, but it’s nice to have the space as well.”

  “Oh, this kitchen is gorgeous,” Charlotte said. He had always liked the kitchen too, not that he was much of a cook. Even if he was, there just wasn’t time. The kitchen had been updated with painted, white, Shaker-style cabinets and white quartz counters. Unfortunately, the counters were currently covered in schoolwork, books, dishes, and half the groceries he’d brought home last night that hadn’t needed to be refrigerated. But Charlotte didn’t seem to notice or mind.

  “A heck of a departure from our building back in Toronto,” he said with a rueful laugh.

  Charlotte placed her hands in the front pockets of her jeans and nodded. “Definitely. I’d say you’ve done well for yourself.”

  He held her gaze for a moment, very aware that Sam was watching their exchange and knowing he couldn’t get more personal with Charlotte about their shared past without having to answer a million questions.

  “Dad, you should use the Christmas cups for the coffee,” Sam said, grabbing the mugs Aunt Mary had bought for him last Christmas from the back of the cupboard. He had no idea they were even in there. Who was this girl? He was surprised by his daughter’s sudden shift in mood and her interest in what mugs he used.

  “Those are so cute,” Charlotte said, smiling at Sam.

  Sam was holding up the mugs that had a little Christmas Village design on them and beaming. He had no idea what was happening, but it was great to see Sam smiling. And it felt nice to have Charlotte there, despite his initial reservations.

  “What a gorgeous view,” Charlotte said, walking to the window over the kitchen sink.

  “We see deer here all the time in the morning,” Sam said, joining her.

  “I love deer! I see them at my grandmother’s house too,” Charlotte said.

  Wyatt listened to them as he set the coffee to brew and smiled. It had been a long time since they’d had an adult woman in the house besides his aunt. But the biggest shocker was that Sam was hanging on Charlotte’s every word. She’d had such attitude lately that it was strange to see her like her old self. “What do you take in your coffee, Charlotte?”

  “Cream or milk would be great,” she said.

  He opened the fridge and peered inside, hoping like hell he’d remembered to buy milk. He couldn’t see anything past that stupid basket of useless cheeses.

  “See, that’s what I’m talking about, Charlotte. Look at the fridge! There’s so many expired things in there, I can never find anything. And now this random cheese basket has taken over.”

  Wyatt grabbed the carton of milk and shut the door quickly, cringing as the cellophane from the cheese basket crinkled against the door. He needed new friends. “Thanks, Sam.”

  Charlotte was smiling, and he could tell she was trying to hold back her laugh. “That’s an easy fix. Seriously.”

  Wyatt poured Charlotte her coffee in the preselected mug and handed it to her. He couldn’t actually take her up on the offer to organize his house. Sure, a part of him was intrigued by the idea of making life run smoother at home, but the other part was weird … because he was drawn to Charlotte, just as he had been when they were kids. Except back then she’d just been the sweet girl down the hall. Now she was this incredibly gorgeous woman who still made him want to be around her, even though he had too much baggage.

  “Thank you,” Charlotte said, adding a splash of milk.

  Much to his humiliation, he noticed she quickly glanced at the expiration date. Thanks, Sam. What had happened to him? He used to be cool. Suave. Now he was just this single dad with a fridge full of expired food, cheese baskets, and a sassy tweenager.

  “Do you want to sit in here?” Wyatt asked, pointing to the kitchen table.

  “Sure, this is great,” Charlotte said.

  He watched in wonder as his daughter quickly removed the pizza box and her homework in record time. He made a mental note that she actually did have the energy to clear the table, unlike the story she kept trying to feed him every other night.

  Sam sat beside Charlotte and stared at her with the same amount of interest she gave her phone. “So when are you going to come over and work on our house?”

  Charlotte glanced over at him. “My schedule is pretty flexible because I’m here for three weeks. So it’s really up to your dad.”

  Wyatt sat back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other. He didn’t know how he was going to handle this. Thanks, Aunt Mary. It would feel awkward to have Charlotte over here cleaning up his kitchen cupboards. And the reality was that the longer Charlotte was around, the greater the odds that they would have some kind of a personal conversation.

  He cleared his throat, both women waiting for his answer. “Well, my work schedule is pretty hectic for the next few weeks until I take my week off for Christmas, so if you don’t mind coming over here while I’m at work, then you can come whenever is convenient for you.”

  “I get home from school at three thirty. You can come over then if you want. I have ballet every night, but that’s not until seven,” Samantha said, leaning toward Charlotte with an expression he hadn’t seen from her in a long time—vulnerability.

  Well, hell. He hadn’t expected that.

  Charlotte smiled before taking a sip of coffee. “That’s perfect, I’d love the company.”

  Sam’s phone rang with her latest favorite ringtone—glass smashing—and Charlotte jumped in her chair. Wyatt smiled at her and rolled his eyes. She lifted her mug, but not before he saw that gorgeous smile again.

  Sam had already made a beeline to the island to check her phone. “I’ve got to go and answer this,” she said, taking her phone and walking to the door. She stopped abruptly and turned around. “Oh, um, it was nice to meet you, Charlotte. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

  He didn’t even know who this girl was standing in the doorway. It was so nice to meet you. He was thrilled by the manners he rarely saw, but it was that vulnerability again, when she confirmed that Charlotte would be coming over tomorrow, that gutted him.


  “Sounds great!” Charlotte said.

  Sam left the room, and Wyatt knew he had to keep the conversation going before things felt awkward. “Thanks for agreeing to this and for not minding having Sam around while you work.”

  Charlotte waved a hand. “Are you kidding? She’s great. And I’d much rather work with Sam here than all by myself. She might actually really like it. There’s a sense of satisfaction that comes with getting organized.”

  He grinned. “I haven’t exactly experienced that yet, but I’ll take your word for it.”

  She laughed, and he found himself smiling at the sound. She was incredibly attractive, but it was more than that. There was a warmth she exuded that made him want to be around her. Maybe that’s what Sam had picked up on. Her lips were still curled in a smile and he noticed again how full they were and how perfectly shaped. He quickly averted his gaze. They couldn’t go there.

  “So, is your whole family coming for Christmas?”

  Charlotte glanced down at her cup and stood, that warmth gone. “Uh, yeah, at some point. I should get back though. I hate leaving Grandma Ruby for too long. I especially want to have some time with just her before family descends,” she said, placing her mug in the sink.

  He knew avoidance when he saw it. He prided himself on being a keen observer of human behavior. He’d learned that at a very young age, instinctually, because of the environment he’d grown up in, and then he’d mastered the skill in his professional life. Charlotte had suddenly closed herself off, and he didn’t know if it was because there were issues in her family or if she just didn’t like personal conversations with him. “I’m sure Ruby is thrilled.”