The Christmas House

by Victoria James

  He washed the sandwich down with a large swig of coffee, hoping this conversation would be over soon. “I’m sure she is. So are you still planning your annual shopping trip and sleepover with Sam?”

  She unfolded her napkin and blotted the corners of her perfectly clean mouth. “Spoken like a man trying to escape where I’m delicately trying to lead this conversation. And of course I’m still doing our girls’ trip to the city. I wouldn’t miss it for the world. So, back to you and Charlotte. I saw those sparks at Ruby’s house.”

  “We were sitting in the same room, weren’t we?”

  She huffed and set her napkin down with a thud. “Wyatt, I’m going to be blunt. You are a good man who deserves a good woman. So much so that I had to resort to purchasing a gift certificate to get that woman over to your house. And that daughter of yours deserves a good female influence in her life too. Just because you married the wrong woman once—and I do take partial responsibility for that because I am a keen judge of character and, had I met her before you married, I would have warned you off of her—doesn’t mean it will happen again. You’re too young, too good-looking, too wonderful to be by yourself. Believe me, these are your best years. It’s all wrinkles and type 2 diabetes after this.”

  Hell. “I love that you think so highly of me, but I am happy. It’s hard as hell raising an almost teenager, and my job is crazy, with different hours every week, but I am happy.”

  She pursed her lips. “Sam called me last week and, dear, I hate to judge, but the poor girl said she was embarrassed by the state of the kitchen. But besides all that, she seemed so happy when she talked about Charlotte. And happy for you too.”

  A pang hit him in the chest, and it had nothing to do with the cheese basket. He put down the rest of his sandwich and looked out the window. Hearing about his daughter even calling Aunt Mary privately was … sad. Had she really wanted a woman in the house? Or was it Charlotte she wanted? He sighed and turned back to his aunt, who was still staring at him with a bit of hope lighting her eyes. “I know I’m not enough for Sam. I know she misses having a mom, but I can’t jump into a relationship for Sam, and I also can’t let Sam’s heart get broken all over again. When Leanne left us … no one got over it. She destroyed the family we’d built. Yes, we didn’t have the perfect marriage, but it was okay. It was okay enough that she could have stuck it out, or she could have had a relationship with Sam. How could I ever convince Sam to trust another mother figure if her own mom ran out on her? I’m not doing it, Aunt Mary. I’m not risking what I’ve built with Sam.”

  Aunt Mary reached across the table and took his hand, her eyes filled with sympathy, the lines around her mouth pronounced. “Of course. Of course. Wyatt, you are doing a wonderful job. Forgive me for being so opinionated. I just don’t want you to settle for good when you could have great. Is there any chance you might hear from Leanne this Christmas?”

  He sat back in his chair and tossed the napkin on the table. “Of course not. When she said she was leaving, she meant it. Five years is a long time. She left and never looked back. As far as I’m concerned, Sam doesn’t have a mother. But that doesn’t mean I can’t give her a good Christmas.”

  Aunt Mary nodded, the weak smile she gave him making him doubt it himself. How the hell had their lives gone from fine to complicated in two weeks?

  Charlotte Harris. That’s how.

  * * *

  “Well, now, let me see my grandbaby,” their mother said, standing in the hallway as though she hadn’t been MIA forever.

  Grandma Ruby walked down the stairs to join them, her smile strained. She was the only one smiling besides their mother. Charlotte didn’t want to upset their grandmother, but she was furious with their mother. Charlotte knew she hadn’t been around for Olivia. This is what their mother always did, and Charlotte couldn’t help feeling protective over her sister, just as she had growing up. Grandma Ruby gave her a stern gaze, and Charlotte squirmed. This was why she avoided the holidays here. There were so many unresolved feelings. So many memories of their mother checking out emotionally or physically. Sure, she’d gotten better over the years, but Charlotte vividly remembered the times they had been simply dropped off at their grandmother’s. That feeling of being an inconvenience had taken root inside her. She knew Olivia didn’t remember all those times, but Charlotte did. Maybe she’d never forgiven their mother for it.

  Charlotte rolled her eyes. “She’s actually away at university,” she said, unable to keep the sarcasm from her tone.

  Olivia laughed, but Grandma Ruby patted Charlotte’s shoulder—it was a warning, she knew.

  Her mother rolled her eyes. “You were always sarcastic, Charlotte dear. You grew up too fast.”

  Charlotte bit her tongue until it hurt. It was good that they’d consumed so much wine, because this was painful, and their mother hadn’t even been here for ten full minutes.

  Her mother’s gaze darted around the entrance. “So, where’s this granddaughter of mine?”

  “Mom, it’s nine. She’s sleeping,” Olivia said, crossing her arms.

  “I don’t think it’s too much to ask to go and wake her up, it’s a special occasion,” their mother said, taking off her bright green coat and unraveling her scarf from her neck.

  “It shouldn’t be a special occasion. A grandmother should have already seen her granddaughter by now,” Grandma Ruby piped up, cinching the belt of her burgundy velour robe.

  Her mother let out a huff. “Oh, right, I forgot I’m the black sheep. Wow, what a nice Christmas welcome. The censure in the room is suffocating. If I’m not wanted, then I’ll just leave right now,” she said, making no move to put her coat back on.

  Charlotte looked away, knowing one of them should pipe up and say, no, no, of course they wanted her to stay. She glanced over at Olivia, who was removing some imaginary lint from her shirt.

  Grandma Ruby sighed deeply. “No one wants you to leave, Wendy. Just try to be more aware of the things you say.”

  Her mother threw her arms in the air. “Fine. If we can’t speak like a real family, let’s keep to the safe topics. How are you all?”

  “Good,” Charlotte said, looking down at her feet.

  “Good,” Olivia echoed, glancing up the stairs.

  “I’m really tired, actually,” Charlotte said, faking a yawn.

  “Oh, me too,” Olivia said. “I was just on my way up to bed. Dawn really is an early riser, No, um, pun intended,” she said, smiling sheepishly.

  Charlotte almost laughed before they awkwardly ran up the stairs. Charlotte held her breath, hoping they’d be able to make it to their rooms and that would be the end of the evening run-in with their mother. Now that she’d arrived, things were going to be tense and awkward.

  “Well, all right. If you must,” their mother said with a tight smile.

  Charlotte glanced over at Grandma Ruby. She felt bad for ditching her. She had no idea how her grandmother could have so much patience with her mother; they were such opposites.

  “Wendy, how about I make you a cup of tea? I have your room all set up,” Grandma Ruby said.

  “Okay, you get the tea while I check my phone for messages,” she heard their mother say while the two sisters stood listening quietly outside Charlotte’s bedroom door.

  Charlotte and Olivia frowned at each other. Charlotte bit her tongue, not wanting to interfere and say that maybe for once her mother could make the tea, maybe for once someone else could sit down and relax.

  Charlotte peered over the railing and saw Grandma Ruby walking to the kitchen, and she stared at her retreating figure, the pang of sympathy for her grandmother making her keep silent. She wouldn’t want Charlotte to cause a fuss. She glanced over at her mother, who was busy texting someone.

  “I guess the Christmas fun starts now,” Olivia whispered.

  “Come to my room,” Charlotte said, tugging on her sweater.

  They quickly shut the door and sat on the bed. “We’re in for some drama,” Olivia
said, grabbing the throw at the bottom of the bed and wrapping herself in it.

  Charlotte nodded, deciding to bring up what she’d discovered in the basement now before they got sidetracked again by another interruption. “Hey, I wanted to tell you something about Grandma. I found a box stashed in that creepy hole in the wall in the basement. There was Mom’s stuff from when she was born … and I don’t think Grandma was married. She was listed as Miss Ruby Harris and there was no father’s name.”

  “No way. What does all this mean?” Olivia whispered.

  “I have no idea,” Charlotte said, lying down on the bed with a sigh.

  “Do we ask Mom or Grandma?” Olivia said.

  Charlotte shrugged. “Maybe we should just bring it up at dinner or something. When Mom is there too. Maybe it’s nothing and we’re just being dramatic. Like, maybe it was too painful for Grandma to list his name.”

  “But they were married.”

  “I know. It doesn’t make sense. Maybe they were divorced and Grandma didn’t want anyone to know?”

  Olivia nodded. “Maybe. But why wouldn’t they have told us? All these years? Okay. Tomorrow night we ask.”

  “Perfect. So that’s sorted out. And tomorrow morning we are walking and then planning your new life, right?”

  Olivia beamed. “Yup. I can’t wait. Let’s walk and then stop for giant coffees at that new café.”

  Charlotte nodded. “It’s a great little place. Okay, I’ll bring all my note-taking supplies,” she said, thinking she now knew what to order her sister for Christmas—planning supplies.

  “Can’t wait,” Olivia said, her eyes sparkling for the first time since she’d arrived. Charlotte was relieved. She’d help Olivia get her life back on track. Right now, helping Olivia get her life back on track sounded much easier than figuring out her own. Her thoughts ran between helping her sister and Wyatt, that uncomfortable feeling that she’d somehow hurt him making her wonder just how involved they were really getting. She didn’t really have a reason to go over there tomorrow. A pang of regret hit her. She didn’t want it to be over. She wanted to keep seeing Sam, and she worried whether she’d made it clear to Sam that she wouldn’t be coming back. And she wanted more time with Wyatt.

  Time for going to Candlelight Christmas and The Nutcracker and all the things that he’d promised with his eyes; all the things she’d said no to.

  Time to figure out what she really wanted from life.

  Time to figure out if Wyatt was worth the risk.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  AUGUST 3, 1985

  SILVER SPRINGS

  “Wendy, is that you?” Ruby called out from the vestibule. She hoped so. She had been so worried about her this year.

  It was almost midnight and Wendy had gone out with her friends. She was three hours past her curfew and Ruby could hear giggling on the other side of the door. She peeked through the glass and relief swept over her to see Wendy on the other side. Ruby quickly unlocked the door and Wendy stumbled in laughing and reeking of alcohol.

  Ruby grabbed her arm to steady her. “What have you been drinking?”

  Wendy rolled her eyes and leaned back against the door, her shoulders limp as a rag doll. “Mom, you’re so old-fashioned. What do you think kids my age do?”

  Ruby heart sank. “You told me you were going to the movies.”

  “We did. Then we drank,” she said, shoving herself off the door and walking past Ruby as though she were worthless.

  “Just a minute, young lady. If you think this behavior is acceptable, you’re in for a rude awakening. You are now grounded for a month. No phone. Nothing. Until you can figure out what you did wrong,” Ruby said, trying to keep her voice low. The last few years with Wendy had been trying. She seemed to have issues with everyone—her teachers, school, Ruby. She was never happy.

  “No way!” she exploded.

  “Keep your voice down! Guests are sleeping!” Ruby hissed.

  “I hate your stupid guests and your cheesy decorations and I hate this stupid house. I want a house where there aren’t any strangers eating breakfast or wandering around in their gross pajamas,” Wendy said, far too loud.

  Insecurity rippled through Ruby. She knew this wasn’t a conventional way to grow up, but it had so many perks too. “I’m trying my best, Wendy. There are worse things in life than growing up in a beautiful home. I’m here for you whenever you need me.”

  Wendy rolled her eyes. “Right. Just you. No dad.”

  Ruby winced. “I can’t change the past. Your father is dead, but you have a mother. We can either look at all the things that are wrong with our lives or we can focus on the things that are right.”

  Wendy shook her head and stumbled up the stairs. “Great talk, Mom. Can’t wait to have Christmas Eve dinner with all the losers in town again,” she said, walking away.

  Ruby watched her daughter’s retreating figure, worry and shame taking root deep inside her. She had failed Wendy. Somewhere along the way she had done something wrong. She had tried her best. When she had come up with the idea for the Christmas Eve dinner for those in need, she’d thought she would be setting an example for her daughter. To open her heart, especially at Christmas.

  She had so many regrets. So many things she would do over again if she could.

  She had wanted the very best for Wendy. She blinked back tears, refusing to give up. She would never give up on herself or her daughter.

  * * *

  Wyatt was having one of those days where he wished he understood his daughter. He had worried more about her this year than he could ever remember doing in the past, even when she was a baby. But she was his life, his entire life, and he’d do anything to make sure his mistakes didn’t ruin her.

  At first he thought she was just angry because Charlotte wasn’t there. The house was quiet today after school and that pang of emptiness at Charlotte’s absence took him by surprise. It was shocking to admit that someone who had been in their lives for a little more than a week could be so deeply missed. But she was.

  He missed her. He missed her laugh and her smile. He missed the way she seemed to dodge everything personal, just like he did. He had missed Charlotte before, and he missed her again now. She made him uncomfortable in the best kind of way. He wanted more time with her. Because he knew, deep in his gut, that her walking into his life again wasn’t an accident.

  After her brush-off, he’d replayed their conversations and moments together and knew he hadn’t imagined the spark between them. He wasn’t sure what to do about his feelings for Charlotte. The attraction had been instant and undeniable, but it was the other stuff there that lingered between them. Unspoken words and glances.

  He’d never had the need to share his thoughts with other people before. He had always found it difficult, and it had been one of the things his ex had nagged him about. But he’d grown up never trusting anyone, never speaking out. The hostility and threat of violence wasn’t something that he could hide from daily. It had loomed like dark clouds and rumbling thunder, every day. It hung over their home, ready to be unleashed, unapologetically, without warning, without an end in sight some days.

  He had gone into a profession that was filled with men and women who made it their mission to keep people safe, especially the most vulnerable. At one time he’d been the vulnerable one. He’d been the one seeking out a savior, and one had never appeared. Everything in their house had been either a yell or a whisper, and it seemed to him like all those in between tones were the happy ones, the ones he heard in other people’s houses.

  So he’d become his own hero. He’d wanted to become his mother’s hero, but she hadn’t wanted one. She’d wanted her husband and had been willing to die for him.

  He scrubbed a hand down his face, pushing away those thoughts, because he had sworn, when he found out that he and Leanne were expecting a baby, that these thoughts, these emotions, the anger and resentment that had never fully healed, wouldn’t ever come to light in their house.


  But he’d screwed up his marriage too, and he’d be damned if he’d screw up his daughter’s life as well. So when people like Charlotte … people who wore their hurt on their sleeves, he felt a connection to her. Except it was so much more than a hard past that they shared. She had this way about her that made him want to believe that there might be more for him out there. That maybe this wasn’t it. As grateful as he was for this life he’d been given with Sam, maybe there was a place that was filled with laughter and love and intimacy. True intimacy. Not the kind that could be had after a night at a bar. But the kind that started like a wildfire and kept burning, could flicker in the darkest of times, could simmer during long winters, and would last forever.

  He glanced over at Sam, who was sitting at the island on her phone, with schoolbooks strewn about, not even looking up at him when he greeted her. He tried to sympathize but irritation rose inside him.

  “I said, ‘Hi, how was your day?’ If you don’t lift your head and make eye contact with me in three seconds, I’m taking your phone and chucking it out the window into a pile of wet snow.”

  She let out a theatrical sigh and lifted her head. His gut clenched. Her eyes were rimmed with red and her face was pale. Oh, hell. “Are you okay?”

  She frowned and put her head back down so quickly it was like she had no muscles in her neck to keep it up.

  “Hey,” he said, crouching down beside her. “I asked if you were okay.”

  “I’m fine. I just want to be alone.”

  His muscles tightened. “Well, not going to happen. First off, you’re in the kitchen and that’s a public space. Second, I can tell you’ve been crying, so now I’ll just bug you all night until you tell me what’s wrong.”

  She leaned back in her chair and tossed her phone on her math textbook. “Charlotte didn’t come over.”

  He should have prepared her. “Is that what’s bothering you?”

  She shrugged. “It was a crappy day at school, and I was looking forward to spending the afternoon with her, but she texted to say that her job was done here and she’d see me soon.”