The Christmas House

by Victoria James

  “I love you, Dad,” Sam said, crying as she held onto her dad. “Sometimes I feel like it was all my fault, that if I were a better kid or cuter, she would have stayed.”

  Charlotte tried to take a deep breath against the tightness in her chest, but she felt this girl’s pain right down to her core, and it dug out every single thought and memory she’d carefully tucked away for so long.

  “God, no. It was never your fault. It was her fault. You know I will never talk about her cruelly, but it was her fault. Her fault for leaving. Something inside her couldn’t cope with this life, and it had nothing to do with you. I know that because there is nothing you could ever do to make me leave,” he said, kissing the top of her head.

  “Promise?” she whispered, love shining in her eyes as she stared up at her dad.

  He nodded and made an “X” over his heart.

  Sam turned to Charlotte and her face turned red. “Sorry, Charlotte. You must think I’m such a brat.”

  Charlotte shook her head rapidly, knowing what she wanted to say, feeling like she was here at this moment for a reason. “I know how you feel, Sam. I get it. My dad walked out on us when I was twelve.”

  Wyatt turned to her sharply. She knew he must be doing the math. When they knew each other, she’d had a dad at home. She dragged her gaze from his and turned her attention back to Sam, ready to lay it all out there. The truth was tucked away inside, and she had carried it around with her like an old scar that she kept hidden under the makeup of a perfectly organized life. Now she’d just removed it all and let them see the real her. But she had to. After what Wyatt had revealed to her … she owed him. She owed herself.

  “Really?” Sam said, sitting down.

  “Really.”

  “He just left?” Sam whispered, the anger in her eyes disappearing.

  “Without warning. He was my hero. He was … a cop. He was the nicest, strongest, best dad I could have ever asked for,” she said, stopping when her voice cracked, unsure what to do with this emotion she was so used to keeping under wraps.

  But this … this sucked. She blinked back tears as she stared at the girl who needed to hear this story so badly. She saw herself in Sam, saw the reflection she’d forgotten. She saw the vulnerability stamped so proudly on her face. She saw the insecurity. The self-blame. She saw the anger. The fear. The fear that her other parent would leave.

  “The last morning I saw him, he was supposed to come to school for career day.”

  Wyatt made a noise and ran a hand over his jaw. He knew. The day he had disappeared, so had her father.

  “What happened?”

  Charlotte leaned against the island, not feeling as awkward anymore or as vulnerable. Words tumbling out without the roadblocks. “I stood in front of the entire school and introduced him even though he wasn’t even there. But I was so sure he’d show up. I was also sure that I’d get the cool kids to like me once they saw how awesome he was.”

  Sam cringed.

  “Yeah … so clearly that plan was an epic fail,” she said with a laugh, glancing up at Wyatt.

  He didn’t share her smile. His gorgeous brown eyes were glistening and his jaw was clenched, his hands in his pockets. She knew neither of them were going to tell Sam that was the day he’d disappeared from her life, but it hung there between them, another bond they shared.

  “Did you … did you ever see him again?” Sam asked, her lower lip trembling.

  Charlotte shook her head. “I looked for him … for a long time,” she said softly. “In the grocery store, at the mall, at the coffee shop he used to go to. Outside work. Then I stopped looking. One day I just sort of gave up, because I realized that maybe I didn’t want someone like him in my life. Because for a long time I blamed myself.” She stopped speaking for a moment, trying to take a breath against the weight in her chest. She had looked for Wyatt too on occasion. On her walks home with Olivia. Her days had been bleak, then, without Wyatt to listen to her.

  “You did?” Sam whispered.

  Charlotte nodded. “I thought maybe if I just helped out more around the house, or maybe if I’d just done a better job of taking care of my little sister, or maybe if I’d been able to make my mom happier he wouldn’t have left. But that was wrong. It took me so many years to realize that there was nothing any of us could have done to keep him. Because it wasn’t in him. Some people walk, not because of the life they are given, but because of something in them that makes them decide they can’t deal anymore.”

  Sam’s face was white. “Do you miss him?”

  Charlotte looked away for a moment, staring at the clock on the oven, searching for words that she didn’t know she had, searching for an answer to somehow give this girl some comfort, to let her know that her entire life wouldn’t be filled with this ache every day. “I did miss him for a long time. His memory slowly faded, and I know that sounds kind of sad, but it doesn’t have to be. In some ways it helped me. I was angry for a long time. Then I was sad. Then angry again,” she said with a little laugh, relieved to see that Sam almost smiled. “But I also appreciated the people in my life who helped me. I … I will never be able to repay my grandma for being a constant source of support. I don’t know what we would have done without her. My mom wasn’t exactly the most stable person, and a lot of times she wasn’t able to take care of us. We knew that we could always rely on Grandma Ruby. So I learned to look at the people who were in my life differently. It made me love my grandma even more. Your dad is strong. He’s so trustworthy and he loves you more than anything,” she said.

  Sam’s gaze went from Charlotte to Wyatt. “I know. Thanks,” she whispered.

  “You’re welcome. You can talk to me about this anytime. Any questions, or if you just want to talk about how you’re feeling. I know there will be days it sucks and days you’ll be able to be just fine. But you have your dad and having someone like him on your side is . . , everything.” she said, not even thinking twice about her words.

  Sam walked over to her and threw her arms around her. Charlotte held on tight, an unexpected wave of maternal affection, love, flowing through her.

  Sam pulled back suddenly, looking almost back to normal. “I’m sorry your dad took off on you, Charlotte. And thanks for talking about it with me.”

  “Thanks, and you’re so welcome,” Charlotte said.

  Sam turned to Wyatt. “So, Dad, maybe I can get out of this assignment with a note from my dad? You can make it like dramatic or something. Or maybe official police business?” she said with a charming smile.

  Wyatt gave a short laugh. “I’ll see what I can do. Don’t worry about this.”

  She left the paper on the kitchen table. “I’m, um, going to finish the rest of my homework. Thanks, Charlotte. Are you still coming to The Nutcracker?”

  Charlotte smiled. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  Sam broke out into a huge smile that made Charlotte’s heart squeeze before Sam ran out of the room.

  “Hey,” Wyatt said, his deep voice gruff, as he crossed the room to stand in front of her. He grasped her arms gently and she looked up at him and she wanted to stay there forever. She wondered if this was the moment that she’d remember forever. Because what was shining in his eyes was something she’d never seen before from anyone.

  “I’m sorry, Char. I’m sorry I wasn’t there that day your dad didn’t show. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to walk you home,” he said, raising his hand and gently cupping one side of her face.

  All those old memories and that vulnerability seemed to wash away as a ripple of awareness, of need for him, tore through her. Her breath caught in her throat as her gaze wandered over his hard features, and he leaned down to kiss her, slowly, softly, innocently, almost like the kind of kiss she had imagined at twelve. She ran her fingers over his stubble and stood on her tiptoes, threading her hands in his thick hair. He made a noise deep in his throat that sent desire pooling in her abdomen. Wyatt could be everything at once to her, he could be strong an
d hard and tender and sweet and she didn’t know what she liked best. Maybe it was him, like this, all walls down like her, that she liked best. He backed her up against the island, his body hard against hers and then lifted her onto the counter. His hands were tangled in her hair and she forgot all about self-preservation.

  “Aren’t you glad Charlotte made you clean up the kitchen?”

  They both froze, and Charlotte stared at Wyatt in horror as he slowly pulled back from her to look at Sam. She was standing in the doorway looking like it was Christmas morning. She sauntered in, clearly pleased with their discomfort, and grabbed her backpack. “Carry on, kids,” she said, before skipping out of the room.

  Once she left, Wyatt turned back to look at her, his eyes sparkling. “So much for not letting her know,” he choked, lifted her off the island and giving her a quick kiss.

  Charlotte let out a small laugh, trying to hide the sudden jolt of panic she felt at Sam seeing them together like that. Sam had obviously been thrilled.

  But this was dangerous … letting her get excited about a relationship that might not be here when Christmas was over.

  * * *

  “Why don’t you borrow something? I just bought three different dresses and they arrived already,” Charlotte said, reaching under the bed and pulling out the box. She didn’t want to add that the reason she’d bought three new dresses was because she was going to see The Nutcracker with Wyatt. Or spend the holidays with Wyatt. That had a nice ring to it. But she didn’t want to look so chipper in front of Olivia.

  Olivia’s eyes twinkled and she sat on the bed. “Oh, because of that hot cop you’re dating?”

  Charlotte couldn’t help the … giggle that escaped her mouth. It occurred to her that she didn’t think she’d ever giggled. In her entire life. Just the word giggle sounded so out of character for her. There had never really been a point in her life or her childhood that she’d ever been filled with such hope. Like, being with Wyatt … and Sam, made her feel like maybe she could belong to a family of her own, one where she could make traditions and be loved and give love. One that wasn’t filled with selfish people trying to steal her joy or relying on her to keep it all together. Sure, Grandma Ruby had never done that to her, but Grandma Ruby did come with ties, because of her mother. Coming here at Christmas meant dealing with her mother, and some Christmases she just couldn’t do that. She had thought that she and Olivia would have their own Christmases forever and that eventually this would extend to their own families … but Olivia had shut her out the last two Christmases, and Charlotte had been on her own in the city. She’d just sat in her small condo and worked. She glanced over at Olivia now and noticed her face had fallen.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Olivia’s eyes filled with tears and her chin wobbled. “Ugh. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for being a shitty sister, Char. I pushed you away for two years and now you’re offering me your dresses like I didn’t act like an idiot.”

  Charlotte shook her head, despite the heaviness in her heart, despite the deep hurt that had taken root, which had made it even harder to trust people because Olivia had been the last person she’d ever expected to turn her away. But she wasn’t a shitty sister, and she knew that. She was a product of crappy parents and a crappy husband and she’d made a mistake. She didn’t need Charlotte stomping on her when she was down. “That again. You haven’t been. You’ve got to move on, we already went over this. Stop torturing yourself,” she whispered.

  Olivia curled her legs up and wiped her eyes with her sleeve. “I have. I shut you out, even at Christmas. I know it’s too late, and it can’t take away the hurt you must have felt, but I want you to know that they were the worst Christmases I ever had,” she said, her voice breaking.

  Charlotte wrapped her arms around herself, hating that a part of her was happy that she hadn’t been the only one hurting.

  “I felt awful. And I hated Will for pushing me away from you, and then I hated myself even more for letting him. Char, all I ever wanted was the perfect little family and I was willing to throw anyone under the bus in order to get it. You know, the perfect couple, the perfect house, and the perfect kids. I wanted the Williams Sonoma table top with the Christmas dishes, the girls in red dresses with big red bows, the boys with little suits and red bow ties, the perfect tree, the stockings for Santa. I was willing to throw everything away for that Instagram life. I don’t need that. I just need to have you back in my life again,” she said.

  Charlotte blew her nose and then reached across to hug her sister and held on tight. “I love you so much. And I don’t blame you. I get it. I wanted that too. I’ve been collecting Christmas dishes from Pottery Barn every year after Christmas when they go on sale. I have this stash in my storage locker of Christmas things for when I have … I don’t know what. I don’t know why because I always said I never wanted a family and yet, I collect this stuff …”

  “Maybe now you can use it with Wyatt and Sam,” Olivia said with a smile.

  “It’s almost too scary to dream about, Liv. Like, all that stuff, if I imagine taking it out of the boxes and setting that table … what if it never happens? Or what if it happens and then it’s gone? It’s almost easier to not have it at all because I think having it and then having it disappear would be so much harder.”

  Olivia shook her head. “I don’t want to stop believing that we can have our happily-ever-afters. I was an idiot with Will. A total idiot. But Wyatt isn’t Will. Look at the way he shows up for Sam. I always imagined us sharing Christmas with our families. One of us could host Christmas Eve, one of us could host Christmas Day. And we could force Grandma Ruby to join us.”

  “What about Mom?”

  Olivia rolled her eyes. “I hadn’t let myself think that far.”

  Charlotte took a deep breath. “Yeah. Okay, enough about this stuff. It’s too depressing. How about you pick a dress? I have three to choose from.”

  Olivia looked at the box and sighed. “They’re your dresses, you should have first pick. Also, I don’t think we’re the same size anymore. Unless they have stretch in them,” she said, wistfully opening the box.

  “They all do, and one of them is a sweater dress. You could go up or down a size in most of them,” she said, unfolding the deep burgundy velvet stretch dress.

  “Wow, that’s gorgeous,” Olivia said.

  “Then try it on!” She shoved the dress at Oliva.

  “Okay,” she said, looking a little more hopeful as she stood up. I’ll just go over here,” she said, opening the closet door and basically hiding inside it. A pang of sympathy shot through Charlotte at her sister’s new insecurity. Olivia had never been insecure before. Charlotte was going to have to help her get through this. She was fully prepared to boost her sister’s self-esteem. A minute later, she emerged from the closet and looked in the mirror and burst into tears as she stared at her reflection.

  “I hate myself,” she said, and slammed the door shut.

  “What? No, you look fantastic! Liv, you had a baby like six months ago. You look amazing,” she said, standing up and walking across the room.

  They turned at the sudden gasp from the doorway. Charlotte stiffened as their mother stood there, wide-eyed. “Oh dear. Dawn has done something to your stomach,” she said as she stared at Olivia.

  Charlotte’s mouth dropped open but Olivia just stood there in silent agreement, shame shining from her eyes.

  Charlotte stood up, her hands balled into fists. “How dare you say that to your own daughter? How about telling her that she looks beautiful! That you’re so proud of what she’s trying to do with her life and what a good mother she is?”

  Their mother placed her hand over her chest. “Stop making me sound like a bad mother.”

  “I don’t have to! You do it to yourself!” Charlotte said, trying to keep her rage and resentment under control, even though it was starting to hiss out of her like a wild, uncontrolled balloon losing air.

  “What is going on in here
?” Grandma Ruby said, appearing behind Wendy. She glanced at Olivia. “Oh, my dear, don’t you look lovely.”

  Charlotte crossed her arms and smiled at her mother. “Like that. Take some notes.”

  Their mother turned in a huff and stomped out of the room.

  “I’m glad everyone is filled with the spirit of the season,” Grandma Ruby said, before slowly turning and leaving the room, her shoulders hunched slightly, her gait slower than usual.

  Charlotte had the urge to just run out of the room. Sympathy for her grandmother flooded her—she didn’t deserve to have a daughter who was so self-absorbed and miserable. She’d had such a hard life and she was so the opposite of their mother. And her sister … who was currently scrambling out of that dress as though she’d been told it was filled with fleas. She didn’t want to deal with any of this. She wanted to run out of the house … down the street to Wyatt’s. For the first time in years, she didn’t want to be alone. She wanted to be with … him. But she wouldn’t do that to her sister.

  “Hey, don’t listen to mom,” she said, when Olivia had wrapped herself in her robe again.

  “She’s right. My stomach is a disaster. It’s like a deflated balloon with some air still stuck inside that refuses to come out.”

  “Seriously, enough. That’s crap. You gave birth to an eight-pound—”

  Olivia winced. “Almost ten-pound—”

  Charlotte shuddered. “See, right there? You should be proud of that! I’d be curled up in a ball in the corner, still reliving the horrors or childbirth.”

  Olivia almost laughed. “It was really bad, Char.”

  Charlotte nodded. “Yeah … so instead of listening to Mom, who has to be the center of attention at all times, listen to me. You’re a gorgeous woman and you’ve always been gorgeous. So your body isn’t the same as it used to be, that’s not a bad thing.”

  Olivia nodded. “I know you’re right. I know I’m supposed to be grateful. I know that there are so many women out there who are struggling with infertility and would slap me if they could for being so superficial. But I can’t help feeling … uncomfortable in this body. I was, all through my pregnancy too. The boobs. The hips. All of it. I just feel self-conscious.”