She nodded, walking toward the door, clearly dying to get out of there. “It’s been a while since we’ve all been together for Christmas. My sister and my mom. So, full house,” she said, shrugging into her jacket.
He didn’t know what it meant that the place suddenly felt emptier as she prepared to leave it. “Olivia. How is she?” He had a distinct memory of Olivia trotting along behind them on their way to school, sort of lost in her own world. It was hard to imagine they had all lived this other life, this messed-up childhood, and now they were all adults.
She zipped up her coat, still not looking at him. “Good. She’s good. Married. Has a baby.”
“Wow, that’s great.”
She shot him a look similar to the one she had given him when he mentioned Ruby, one that clearly told him there was a hell of a lot going on in her life … and that she had no intention of sharing it—not with him anyway. “It is. Good night, Wyatt.”
He held the door open. “I should walk you home,” he said, noticing dusk was descending.
She stepped outside, her face lit by the glow of the porch lights. They stared at each other a moment and he remembered all those walks together when they were younger. She avoided his gaze. “That’s nice of you, but I’ll be fine.”
“Charlotte,” he said, wanting to be the guy she remembered.
She stopped. “Really, it’s barely even dark out and it’s not far. But thanks.”
He gave her a nod and watched her walk away, a sense of loss washing over him again. The day he’d walked out of that gym had been the beginning of the worst year of his life. He had never been the same, and the memory of Charlotte had been a source of comfort for him on many shitty nights.
He took a deep breath as she rounded the corner toward Ruby’s house, inhaling the fresh, cedar-tinged air. Maybe he was the one out in left field with all these feelings. Maybe it was the nostalgia of the season. Maybe he just needed to concentrate on Sam and getting through the holidays unscathed.
Maybe Charlotte coming back into his life was just a coincidence and nothing more, because he’d never believed in anything beyond what was right in front of him.
CHAPTER FIVE
DECEMBER 31, 1968
“Sister Juliette, with all due respect, I don’t think this is a good idea. I just want to forget all these people and this part of my life,” Ruby said. It was New Year’s Eve, and Sister Juliette had urged Ruby to come forward and tell Richard’s parents the news about the baby.
Sister Juliette turned to her, her dark eyes serious. “Why do you think we met on Christmas Eve?”
Ruby didn’t know what she meant. “Because my parents threw me out.”
She shook her head. “Of all the streets in the city, of all the corners, you were right where you needed to be for me to find you. That isn’t a coincidence, Ruby. That’s providence. Now let me take me the lead.”
Ruby maintained her gaze for as long as she could before looking down at her shoes. She didn’t want to offend Sister Juliette. She didn’t want to tell her that maybe she didn’t believe in any of that anymore. Or worse, that she didn’t deserve any of that anymore. But she owed this woman. “Okay.”
“They have lost their son, they might be comforted by the thought that he will live on through his child, Ruby. I will be with you every step of the way.”
A moment later, Richard’s father opened the door. The tragedy had taken its toll on him; the usually polished man needed a shave, his slicked-back hair was messy, and his shirt was untucked. “Ruby. We didn’t know what happened to you,” he said, concern lining his deep voice as he opened the door wider. His gaze darted from her to Sister Juliette.
“I’m so sorry for your loss,” she said, forcing herself to make eye contact with him.
“Thank you,” Richard’s mother said, appearing in the hallway. She looked pale and gaunt, but she reached forward to hug Ruby.
Sister Juliette introduced herself and Richard’s parents led them into the dining room, where Ruby sat beside Sister Juliette and his parents sat opposite them. Ruby tried to concentrate on the chit-chat, but her mind wandered to all the times she had sat in this dining room when Richard had been alive. The house had been filled with conversation and laughter then. His older brother, Harry, was usually around. He’d always seemed more serious to Ruby, maybe even mysterious.
“I’m so very sorry for your loss,” Sister Juliette began, glancing at Ruby from the corner of her eye before continuing. “But I’m hoping the news we have for you can bring you some light in the darkness.”
“Thank you, Sister. We will gladly listen,” Richard’s mother said, with a slight shadow of a smile.
“Ruby and Richard were very much in love, and before … well, Richard had planned on proposing to Ruby.”
His mother gasped and covered her mouth, her eyes clouding over with tears. His father put his arm around her. “He hadn’t told us, but I’m not surprised. We were always very fond of Ruby. I’m so sorry it’s ended this way. Ruby, you’re a wonderful girl and we wish you the best,” he said, his voice thick with emotion.
Ruby began trembling as she wrung her hands together in her lap.
“Ruby is a wonderful and brave woman. She is also carrying Richard’s baby. Your grandchild,” Sister Juliette said softly.
His parents didn’t move, and Ruby was scared to breathe. They turned at the sound in the doorway. It was Harry. His handsome face was white, his strong jaw clenched, his hands in his pockets as he stared at Ruby. She didn’t know if it was anger or revulsion in his eyes.
“Oh my … oh my … this all makes sense now. He was too afraid to tell us what you had done, Ruby. He was too ashamed. My baby,” his mother moaned, placing her head on the table.
Shame and panic tore through Ruby and she moved to stand, she needed to leave, to run from the shame that followed her around like a shadow. Sister Juliette held her upper arms steady … “This was not Ruby’s fault, and I urge you to think clearly. Maybe it will take time, but Ruby is carrying your grandchild. This can be a beautiful blessing,” Sister Juliette said.
Richard’s father stood, keeping one hand on his wife’s shaking shoulders. “Get out of our house. Our son would have never acted that way. For all we know, this could be any man’s child.”
Ruby felt the room tip as what he was implying hit her with the impact of a train. Everything blurred and spun, and she was vaguely aware of someone’s strong hands on her shoulders as she struggled to stay in the present. “Dad, that’s a lie. Ruby wouldn’t do that. She wouldn’t lie and I know … I knew Richard. He never took anything seriously. He partied. He drank too much. This is Richard’s doing,” Harry said harshly.
“How dare you speak of your brother that way?” his mother hissed, raising her head, her tear-streaked face pulled back into an angry grimace.
“It’s the truth. He was an irresponsible, selfish drunk. Don’t turn Ruby away,” Harry said. His words, his presence, his belief in her managed to keep her sane and standing.
“We will give you some time to think about this. Ruby is staying with me at St. Michael’s. Once you’ve processed all this, you may reach out to her through me,” Sister Juliette said, her voice holding a note of something that Ruby had never heard in this woman in the last week. If she didn’t know better, it sounded like a tinge of judgment, directed toward Richard’s parents. And protectiveness, toward Ruby.
Harry’s hand dropped from her shoulders and he followed them to the front door and stepped onto the porch with them. “Sister Juliette, if I can help in any way … Ruby … I believe you. I … I always thought you were the best thing to have happened to my brother,” he said.
Ruby couldn’t look him in the eye, shame making her want to never see anyone from this part of her life again. She glanced in his general direction and walked away from the porch. She heard Sister Juliette thank him and then quickly catch up to Ruby.
“I’m sorry, Ruby. But you will find your place in the world again,” Sister J
uliette whispered. Her arm around Ruby’s shoulders, a shelter in the storm, a promise that Ruby would not be alone.
* * *
The following afternoon, Charlotte sat on the bed in her favorite room in The Christmas House, with her planner, pens, and notepads spread around her, but unable to focus. Three large windows overlooked the ravine and river, and with all the snow-covered trees, it looked a little like a magical forest. Now that all the leaves were gone, she could see straight to the frozen river. The window seat was filled with overstuffed pillows embroidered with snowmen and a coordinating red and green tartan blanket. It had always been her favorite spot to sit and read as a little girl—especially when it was raining outside. Snow was even better because she would sometimes imagine she was inside a snow globe and everything was picture perfect.
Her gaze wandered the room, nostalgia tumbling over her. The rattan chair was still in the corner of the room with a blanket draped over the back and a plaid pillow with a perfect V indent on the top. The white iron bed frame reminded her of Anne Shirley’s bed in the original Anne of Green Gables movie. She had so many memories of Grandma Ruby tucking her in, praying over her. Charlotte would then inhale the crisp, clean scent of the sheets and fall into the best sleep. Sometimes Olivia would sneak into her room and they’d share the bed. She ran her hand over the patchwork quilt embroidered with little hollies, the texture warm against the palm of her hand, the memories comforting to her soul.
The Christmas House was home, and like every time she’d visited before, Charlotte reached for the magic it offered, even if it only lasted seconds instead of hours like when she was a child. She forced her gaze to her list of notes and ideas she had for Wyatt’s house. But thinking about Wyatt’s house meant thinking about Wyatt. And his daughter. It had been clear that he hadn’t wanted to talk about their past, and she would never have brought it up in front of Samantha. But she wanted to know what had happened to him. Despite how many years had passed, he still had that special something. He still made her heart race, his smile made her palms sweaty, his voice made her toes curl. He was still Wyatt.
Wyatt had been so much more than she expected. So had Sam—she’d been so sweet and polite, but there was something about her that tugged at Charlotte’s heartstrings. It wasn’t some kind of maternal instinct, because she’d never had maternal leanings. She was fine with that. In fact, she preferred it that way because she didn’t have to worry about letting anyone down, or dealing with the chaos that kids brought to one’s life. She had grown up surrounded by chaos, and she wanted the opposite for herself.
Commotion and disorder caused stress and wreaked havoc on people and marriages. But as she spent time with Wyatt and Sam last night, their little family had seemed … enviable. She knew there must be heartache there, and she knew that life hadn’t exactly been rainbows and ice cream for either of them, but Wyatt had created a home filled with love. His affection for his daughter was evident and endearing, and he hadn’t lost his patience despite her comedic attempts at pushing all his buttons.
Charlotte was still aware of Wyatt in a way that she’d never experienced with anyone else, and that was crazy. He was undeniably masculine in a way that made her very aware of being a woman. But it was the other side of him, that easy laughter, the ready sarcasm, and the undeniable patience he showed when Sam was in the room. His asking about her family had been perfectly natural. She should have said something more. Instead, she’d clammed up.
But Wyatt … it was as though there was this unspoken mental photo album of that year they knew each other and he would do something or say something that could take her back to seventh grade; even her awkwardness rose to the surface, unfortunately.
She glanced down at her planner and the notebook with the color-coded headings she was making for the different areas to tackle in Wyatt’s kitchen. The organizing would be the easy part; seeing Wyatt would be the hard part.
The doorbell pulled her from her thoughts and she scrambled off the bed, a few markers tumbling to the ground. There was always someone coming to visit her grandmother, but now that she was here, she was ready to help. She made it halfway down the stairs to see her grandmother opening the door and her sister and baby niece standing there.
Charlotte hid her panic and raced down the stairs, not caring that Liv had ignored her, not caring about all that might be between them, just needing to be there for her.
Olivia looked like hell.
“Come in, come in, my dear. Let me take this baby,” Grandma Ruby said, pulling Olivia in.
Charlotte’s gaze darted from her sister to the baby Grandma Ruby was holding. She was adorable. She was dressed in a red snowsuit-type thing and her cheeks were rosy. Her wide blue eyes searched the room quickly. Charlotte felt helpless and silly and like a stranger to her sister. But she couldn’t just stand there when Olivia looked like she was going to fall apart. “Liv, I’m so glad you came,” Charlotte said, swallowing her nerves and making the first move to hug Olivia.
The minute her sister’s arms wrapped around her, Olivia burst into tears. “I’m so sorry, Char,” she choked.
Charlotte pulled back, holding onto her sister’s arms and really looking at her. Olivia’s usually perfect, glossy hair was greasy looking and thin and pulled back in a messy bun—not the cute Instagram kind. Her eyes were red, the bags beneath them deep and dark. But it was the sadness in her eyes that was the most gut-wrenching. Charlotte had seen that look a very long time ago, when it was just the two of them, when their dad had walked out and their mom had fallen apart and dropped them off here with Grandma Ruby. And just like then, they were standing here in the vestibule of Grandma Ruby’s house, terrified and feeling like their world was falling apart.
“Oh, Liv, it’s okay. We’ll figure it out,” Charlotte said, tears blurring her vision. She knew there had to be more.
“Now, come in, my dear, hang up your things. There is plenty of time to sort things out; right now you need rest,” Grandma Ruby ordered.
“I’m so sorry, Grandma. I should have visited more. I’ve been a horrible granddaughter and sister—”
Grandma Ruby grasped one of her arms, staring into Olivia’s eyes. “Enough. Stop. You have not been horrible. You’ve been surviving. You’ve been doing what you should be doing—taking care of this baby. You are always welcome here. This is always your home. As long as you are alive, you will always be welcome here. No strings. No conditions. My door is always open to you,” she said, her voice raspy.
Charlotte’s throat was tight with emotion as Olivia nodded and started crying again.
Olivia took the baby from Grandma Ruby’s arms. “Thank you, Grandma. You always know just what to say, just what to do. I’m just so tired. Or hormonal. Or both,” Olivia said, sniffling as she kissed the top of the baby’s head.
Ruby glanced over at Charlotte, her lips in a thin line. Olivia was not well. It was so much more than exhaustion; they both knew it. “Why don’t I get you a nice bowl of soup and freshly baked bread, and then you go and settle into your favorite room?” Grandma said.
Olivia gave her a wobbly smile. “I just … I should get Dawn’s things set up and change her and then give her a bottle before her nap …”
Grandma Ruby took the baby like a pro. “Nonsense. We’re here. We’ll help. You need rest. You are good to no one if you can’t even think or speak without crying, my dear.”
Olivia nodded rapidly, looking like she was going to cry again. “I’ll just unload the car,” she said.
“I got it, Liv. You go into the kitchen with Grandma,” Charlotte said, happy to have something to help with since she had no idea how to help with a baby.
Olivia nodded. “Thanks,” she choked out, pulling her keys out of her coat pockets, Kleenexes and lip balm falling onto the floor.
“I’ve got it,” Charlotte said, reaching down and picking everything up, wincing as the soggy Kleenex touched her skin.
Olivia choked out a sob and pressed her no
se into a tissue. What the hell was happening? This was her sister’s life now? “I’m so sorry, Char.”
“It’s nothing. Seriously. Go do whatever Grandma tells you to do before you get in trouble,” she said, forcing humor into her voice.
A few minutes later, Charlotte was frowning at the contents of Olivia’s car. First of all, there was crap everywhere. Coffee cups—empty and half-filled—napkins, Kleenex—tons and tons of Kleenex. Then there was the gear. How much did one baby need?
She pulled out what she assumed was the diaper bag and swung it over her shoulder, and then swung Olivia’s bag over the other shoulder before making her way to the trunk. She was going to clean out her sister’s car tomorrow morning. No one should be subjected to this kind of mess—no wonder she was a disaster. Charlotte would be in tears too if she had to drive around with stained seats and snotty Kleenexes everywhere. It was a horror show.
The trunk was no better. She managed to pull out a thing that resembled a folded-up crib and swung it over her shoulder, almost falling backward. This was insanity. She spotted the large pack of diapers and somehow maneuvered them under her arm and then managed to shut the trunk by swinging one of the bags on top.
A few minutes later, after having only dropped the pack of diapers three times on her way back up the walkway, she dumped everything in the vestibule and made her way to the kitchen. She was out of breath and very pleased with her own life choices.
Olivia had almost finished her bowl of minestrone, and Grandma Ruby was bouncing a very happy baby girl on her lap. Her snowsuit had been removed and she was wearing an adorable red and white striped velour pajama onesie with the picture of a reindeer on the front. Charlotte smiled at her and to her surprise, the baby gave her a wide, open-mouth, no-teeth smile that made her laugh and almost forget that she had been so hurt by Olivia. After seeing her sister she knew instinctively that the reason Liv had distanced herself had nothing to do with Charlotte. There was something going on. “She’s so cute, Liv,” Charlotte said, joining them at the table.
The Christmas House Page 6
