The Christmas House

by Victoria James

  Charlotte nodded. “I know I don’t know what you’re feeling, and I can’t give you wise words from someone who’s had a baby. But I can tell you that you look great. You don’t have to look like you did before Dawn to still be beautiful.”

  Olivia nodded. “Or I can buy SPANX.”

  “They do solve a lot of problems for all of us. Baby or not,” Charlotte said with a smile.

  “I missed you, Char.”

  Charlotte reached down to hug her sister. “Me too.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  SEPTEMBER 1995

  TORONTO

  “Wendy, are you home?” Ruby frowned, worry running through her when she knocked on her daughter’s apartment door for the third time. She knew she had to be home. They had confirmed this time, and she was supposed to babysit her adorable granddaughter, Charlotte, today.

  When she heard Charlotte crying she tried the doorknob, knowing she’d break the door down if she had to. The door opened and she sighed with momentary relief when she spotted little Charlotte running down the hallway and straight into her arms.

  “Grammy, Mama’s sleeping,” she said. The panic in her voice told her that it wasn’t good. Ruby swooped the precious three-year-old into her arms and marched through the apartment, frantic to find Wendy, panic rising in her throat at the absolute disarray in the home.

  Dread filled her when she spotted Wendy on the couch, one arm loosely dangling over the side, her hand on a bottle of some kind of alcohol. Relief flooded her when she could see that she was breathing. That relief gave way to a mix of rage and worry, a combination of emotions that she had become sadly accustomed to with her daughter.

  “Wendy!” she said, shaking her daughter, relieved to see her open her eyes. She swallowed down the rage bubbling inside her, knowing she couldn’t frighten Charlotte any further.

  “Mom?” Wendy said, her words slurred as she rubbed her eyes.

  “Get yourself together,” she hissed, before turning away to look at Charlotte. Her heart squeezed at the sight of the little girl, watching her with wide eyes.

  “Come, Charlotte. Grandma is going to get you some food and get you all dressed and you can watch a show, okay?”

  Charlotte’s perfect little rosebud mouth turned up in a wobbly smile, and she raised her arms. Ruby gladly lifted the precious babe and carefully stepped around the scattered toys and newspapers on the floor and made her way to Charlotte’s bedroom. Once she had changed and cleaned her, they went to the kitchen where Ruby sliced an apple into bite-sized pieces alongside small pieces of cheese. She filled up Charlotte’s sippy cup with water and sat her in front of the television. “Grandma is going to do some clean up. You sit here and enjoy your snack and show, okay, dear?”

  Charlotte looked up and grinned. Ruby leaned down and kissed the top of her head, determined to put on a cheerful face even though her stomach was churning. She could hear the water running in the bathroom.

  She began picking up the litany of odds and ends scattered around the apartment while Big Bird was rattling off a list of his favorite letters in the background. In ten minutes she’d managed to make the main living area presentable and then turned her sights on the filthy kitchen. She glanced back at Charlotte every few minutes while she scrubbed the pile of dishes in the sink and then focused on cleaning the counters. By the time Wendy joined her in the kitchen she put a pot of coffee on and looked at the daughter she was so worried about … and so disappointed in.

  Wendy held up her hand. “Before you start lecturing me, you should know that it’s been a really rough week. Mac has been working double shifts, and we’ve been arguing nonstop.”

  Ruby folded the dish towel and searched for words that could help this situation instead of pushing Wendy into a deeper hole. The coffee percolated, the sound louder than that of the rain drumming against the windows. How she wished this was just a normal visit, that her daughter had found happiness and was living a happy life as a wife and mother. She wiped dry two mugs that she’d just cleaned and poured the coffee. She walked over to the table and joined her daughter, choosing the seat that would allow her to keep an eye on Charlotte. It didn’t go unnoticed that Wendy hadn’t even bothered to say a word to her daughter or give her any kind of affection as she walked by her.

  “I’m not here to lecture you, Wendy. I know how hard life can get, but you can’t just check out and do what you want when you’re a mother.”

  Anger flashed in Wendy’s eyes before she took a sip of the black coffee. “This is where you start with your high-handed lectures about how rough your life was, right?”

  Ruby sat back in the chair and folded one leg over the other, determined not to lose her temper. “Don’t make this about me, it’s not. I’m just trying to show you that I’m not judging you, that I get it.”

  “Well, you don’t get it, because you never had a husband.”

  Ruby wrapped her hands around the hot mug. Yes, Wendy had pointed that out to her dozens of times growing up, and it never failed to make Ruby feel inadequate. Maybe she’d even spoiled Wendy out of guilt for not having a father in her life. The image of Harry popped into her mind and, not for the first time, she wondered what life would have been like with him. Maybe all this could have been avoided. Maybe her daughter would have been able to cope with life more easily. “I can listen. I may not have had a husband, but I had different challenges, and if I’d decided to just ignore my responsibilities then we wouldn’t have had a roof over our heads or food in our mouths. And I was young. What’s your excuse? You and Mac were married for over five years before you decided to have a baby. You two have had your fun. It’s time to grow up. Why don’t you tell me what’s really bothering you instead of trying to turn the tables and make this about your childhood?”

  Wendy rolled her eyes. “Right. Of course, nothing is ever your fault, is it?”

  Ruby leaned forward, ready to dish it out harshly in order to make her point. “It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter that your childhood may have been less than perfect or that you didn’t have a father. What matters is right now. You are an adult. You take responsibility for your own actions. You get to decide the type of mother you want to be. Blaming me for your problems won’t make your problems go away. Only you can make your problems go away. So either take my offer to help you or I will take that little girl and raise her myself.”

  “Fine. I hate my life. I hate motherhood.”

  “Well, that’s a start. I think many people feel that way at times. Maybe you have no balance here. What about an outside hobby? A job? Maybe you need to get out of this apartment more.”

  Wendy toyed with the red handle on the mug, tracing it with her finger. “Mac has crazy hours, and I don’t know how we’d swing that. I don’t even know what I’d want to do.”

  “Have you told Mac how you feel?”

  She shrugged, turning her gaze to the rain-smeared window. “He has his own issues with work. A few months ago something pretty awful happened, and he hasn’t been the same.”

  “How often have you been drinking like this?”

  Wendy shrugged. “Not that often.”

  “Wendy.”

  Wendy put her face in her hands. “Lately it’s been a few times a week. I thought Mac was going to be home today, that’s why I drank last night.”

  “You can’t do that again. You’re a mother. Before anything else, Charlotte’s safety comes first.”

  Wendy nodded, closing her eyes.

  Ruby reached across the table, determined to find a solution. “Why don’t I bring Charlotte back to The Christmas House? She loves all the decorations. I can keep her for the week. Maybe you can have a breather. Take some time to regroup. You and Mac can have some alone time too.”

  Wendy nodded. “That would be nice.”

  Ruby took a deep breath, relieved that she had come up with a solution, but the heavy burden of knowing her daughter was not coping well still sat in her stomach like rocks. “Okay. Go and pack
a bag for Charlotte.”

  Wendy nodded and stood.

  Ruby took their empty mugs of coffee and placed them in the sparkling sink, suddenly feeling older than her years. Wendy’s childhood and teen years played across her mind, and Ruby frantically thought of all the ways she hadn’t been a good enough mother. She needed Wendy to pull it together.

  “Gamma?”

  Ruby jumped and looked down at Charlotte who was standing beside her. “Yes, sweetie?”

  “TV wif me, Gamma?”

  Ruby reached down and scooped Charlotte in her arms, giving her a giant hug. “I’m going to do even better. You can come and stay with Grandma and sleep over. We can bake treats together and read stories and maybe fly a kite. Does that sound fun?”

  Charlotte’s eyes were wide and she nodded, smiling at Ruby before throwing her arms around her and cuddling her tightly. Ruby held onto her darling granddaughter, promising she would do better, that she wouldn’t give up on any of the people in this home. Charlotte held onto her, and Ruby prayed over her, prayed that she would get out of this childhood without her heart being broken.

  * * *

  “Dad, do you want to do my bun?” Sam asked, poking her head into Wyatt’s room.

  Hell, if his heart didn’t squeeze, reminding him what a sap he was. He stood there, across the room from the girl who had been his entire life for so long, and images of her raced across his mind like clips from an old movie. They’d been to hell and back. And on his worst days, she’d been his only reason to keep going. Her sweet little smile, her bubbly laugh, her unlimited hugs. What she’d needed, he’d been able to give. She’d made him into a better man. And somehow, when the days had seemed to drag on forever, they’d turned into years, years he wished he could erase only to live again, to have one more shot at doing it better, at getting to be a dad to that amazing little girl.

  He’d give anything to hear her say “Daddy” again. But “Dad” was his new name, as of last year, and it made him want to hold onto these years even more tightly, despite her need to grow.

  He cleared his throat and blinked a few times, the image of his six-year-old ballerina giving way to the beautiful young woman in front of him now. A bun? He’d take it, any day.

  “Sure, have a seat on the chair,” he said, pointing to the chair in the corner beside the window. “I hope I still remember how to do this,” he said, taking the pins, brush, and spray bottle from her hands and placing them on the side table.

  “I’m sure you will. You turned into a real pro. Cat says Scott never really mastered it and that she has to secretly add more bobby pins after he finishes her buns,” she said as he brushed her hair into a smooth ponytail.

  He laughed. “Well, this isn’t easy. I just make it look easy,” he said.

  “Ha. Funny. Are you wearing that tonight?” she asked, shifting slightly to look him up and down.

  He frowned. “Why, what’s wrong with this?”

  She shrugged, and he paused as he twisted the ponytail. “It’s okay. But if you really want to impress Charlotte you should wear one of those suit jacket things over your shirt.”

  “Really?” he said, carefully adding pins as he made her hair into a bun and glancing at himself in the mirror.

  “It’s impressive. You look good when you dress up,” she said.

  Huh. “Well, I’ll put one on then.”

  She nodded. “Sure. So, no offense, but one of the teachers will do my makeup for the show. I don’t really trust you with a makeup brush.”

  He stifled a laugh. “Good, because I don’t trust myself either.”

  She hopped out of the chair and leapt across the room. He had no idea where she got her grace from. His chest swelled with pride as he watched. She stopped at the door and stared at him for a moment, looking like a child for the briefest of seconds, reminding him of all their conversations about life and love and whatever it was she was thinking about. Being her father, her only parent, had forced him to deal with his own past as best he could, in order to give her what she needed. At night he’d lie awake, especially after a difficult parenting day and wonder if he’d ever be enough. If he’d ever have the right answers, if he’d ever be able to give her enough love, if he’d ever be able to fill the hole that her mother had left behind. His biggest fear would be that she grew up and looked back on her childhood with sadness. He knew that pain, and he knew it was the kind of pain that could stop him without notice as a memory barreled into him without warning. He wanted Sam to be able to look back and have all the good memories be greater than the bad; he hoped that her happiness would shine through the sorrow.

  “Are you and Charlotte coming backstage after the show?” she asked, pausing in the doorway.

  “Of course. You’ll do great, Sam,” he said. He’d already picked out a dozen yellow roses for her, and the bouquet was waiting in the trunk of his car so he could surprise her.

  She smiled. “Thanks, Dad.”

  * * *

  “Hold on,” Charlotte said, stopping at the edge of the downtown core. “I need a moment to soak this all in.”

  Each store had fresh evergreen boughs draped across their storefronts, with red bows and twinkling white lights. Each lamppost had a lit boxwood wreath, and the sidewalks were filled with shoppers carrying packages and bags. Victorian carolers strolled the sidewalks, and the smell of roasting chestnuts filled the air. Soft tufts of feathery snow tumbled from the sky. It was straight out of a Hallmark Christmas movie.

  Or maybe it was being with Wyatt that made it feel so special. Maybe if everything was removed and it was just her and him, she’d have the exact same feeling. He’d picked her up and they had driven into town, planning on wandering through the shops before they went to watch The Nutcracker. Something had felt different the moment he’d picked her up. That barrier she had tried to keep up had been lifted, and she wasn’t afraid anymore.

  “So where else should we go?” she asked, as they walked down Main Street.

  Wyatt reached for her hand as they strolled. “Are you hungry?”

  She shook her head, heady with the warmth and excitement of holding onto him. “Not really, but if you are I don’t mind stopping. There’s this nonstop supply of baked goods at my grandmother’s, especially this close to Christmas. I think I may have eaten a dozen cookies today alone,” she said with a laugh.

  “I can’t wait to have some. Your grandmother’s baking is legendary,” he said as they turned down one of the quieter side streets. There was a small park with a skating rink. Multicolored lights were strung around the rink, and it was bustling with skaters and people buying hot chocolate.

  “How long do we have before we head to The Nutcracker?”

  He glanced at his watch. “Half an hour. If we’re walking we could slowly start over there,” he said.

  She nodded. “Okay, let’s walk over. It’s a gorgeous night,” she said, not wanting any of this to end. It was a snow globe moment, and it had come to life for her.

  They strolled and took in all the window displays, and Charlotte didn’t think she’d ever been this happy. She swallowed past the lump of emotion in her throat and looked up at the man partly responsible for making her feel this way. They were headed somewhere she’d never been and she didn’t want to stop it. She didn’t want tonight to end.

  If she were a dreamer, she’d imagine doing this every year with Wyatt, holding hands, lightly swinging between them as they walked past the shops. She would have looked forward to their evening after the shopping, maybe sitting by the fire, drinking a glass of wine … instead, she was almost fearful of where this was all going. He wasn’t sixteen, and neither was she. He was on his second phase of life, and she hadn’t even really lived her first phase.

  “I think I forgot how magical this town was,” she said, shooting him a smile.

  “How’s your sister doing?” he asked as they approached the end of downtown.

  She took a deep breath of the fresh air. “Good. Much bette
r than before. I think she has a bit of a challenging road ahead as a single parent, but she can handle it.”

  He gave a short laugh. “Yeah, it’s a bit of a rude awakening for most. Then there are those really irritating people who fall into it naturally and make it look so easy.”

  She laughed. “You make it look pretty easy. I’d say you’re one of them.”

  He stopped, his eyes growing serious. “Thank you. But it wasn’t always like this. And I don’t ever feel like it comes naturally to me. It’s been a rough year with Sam. There are days when I wonder if I’m screwing it all up, if I’ll ever be enough for her, if I’ll ever be able to repair the damage that’s been done,” he said, his voice gruff, a flash of vulnerability softening his otherwise hard features.

  A lump formed in her throat. “I think that, even though her mother left and that’s something that will always bring her pain, having such a devoted parent who puts her first and makes it known how loved she is, will go so much further than you think. I can’t imagine what it’s like being a parent all the time, let alone a single parent, but from someone who’s spent time with Sam one on one and with the both of you, there is no doubt in my mind that Sam is secure and knows how much her dad loves her,” she said, shocking herself at how easily that had all come out.

  Wyatt didn’t say anything for a moment, and she almost thought maybe she’d gotten it all wrong. What did she know about kids anyway? Who was she to make these sweeping generalizations? But he blinked a few times and then grabbed her hand and started walking again. This feeling, her hand in his warmer, larger one, made her … want this. Him. More.

  She wanted more Wyatt.

  She didn’t have the words to articulate what she wanted, and a part of her just wanted to enjoy this moment. Because she never would have expected this. She was supposed to come to Silver Springs to help her grandmother for the Christmas season. She was now knee-deep in family and friends and small-town life. This had been her worst nightmare a month ago. Never mind the fact that Wyatt was a cop. But now she was living a dream that she hadn’t even known she wanted.