The Christmas House

by Victoria James

  She heard the startled gasps around her and knew she’d been joined by the rest of her family, Mary, and Samantha. She couldn’t look up at Wyatt or she would lose it. His hands didn’t move from her shoulders.

  “What are you thinking? Why would you come back here and ruin our Christmas? How did you even know we’d all be here?”

  The second her dad’s eyes connected with Olivia’s, she knew. Olivia’s face went red then white. “I didn’t mean to, Char …”

  “You’ve been in contact with him?” Charlotte said, the words painful, echoing through the heaviness in her chest.

  Olivia’s eyes filled with tears and she bounced Dawn in her arms. “Barely. Dad texted me a few weeks ago and …”

  Charlotte rubbed her temples, trying to digest what her sister was telling her, what her sister had failed to tell her. She wanted to yell at her. Olivia had lied to her again, shut her out again. Even after their long chats together, she hadn’t brought it up. This was why family was too much too handle. This was why she lived alone in the city. They were killing her every chance they got. “How would he even have your number?”

  Her mother opened her mouth and then shut it.

  Charlotte’s heart lurched. “So everyone was in on this.”

  “It’s not like that at all, Char,” Olivia said, her eyes filled with tears.

  “Samantha and I will continue the Christmas dinner, Ruby, you stay with your family,” Mary said, taking Dawn from Olivia.

  Samantha looked over at Charlotte, her eyes wide and filled with confusion and pain. Charlotte forced a smile for the girl, angry that she was witnessing this, knowing this must be dredging up so many emotions for her. Wyatt squeezed her shoulders, and she turned to him. “You don’t have to stay. Maybe you should go to Sam,” she whispered.

  “You stay with Charlotte, Dad. I’m fine. I’ll help Aunt Mary,” Sam said, giving Charlotte a quick hug. That gesture and selflessness brought tears to Charlotte’s eyes, and she stood silent as Sam and Mary left the room with the baby.

  “I know that no one wants me here,” their dad began once the others had left.

  “I think that’s pretty obvious,” their mother said with a snort, the red punch in her glass sloshing over the rim.

  Grandma Ruby walked forward, suddenly showing her age, her rosy cheeks slowly whitening. “Mac, this is very poor timing. It’s very selfish,” she said, in that tone that could make the toughest of men squirm.

  Their dad winced. “I know, but it was the only time I knew you’d all be under the same roof.”

  “Oh, I see, so get it all done in one shot instead of speaking to each of us individually. It’s always whatever is easier for you, isn’t it? Just like it was easier for you to walk out on us instead of sticking it out,” their mother said.

  It was the first time in a long time Charlotte agreed with her.

  “That wasn’t my motivation. I know that I will never be able to earn back your trust or pick up as though I haven’t hurt all of you, but I wanted to explain why I left. I know it won’t take away the years of pain, but I can at least tell you where I’ve been, why I left. I know that sending money every month is nothing, but at the time it was all I could do.”

  The room turned silent, and Charlotte and Olivia turned to their mother, whose face had turned red. She had always told them that their father left them without a penny, that he’d abandoned them physically and financially. Not that the money would have made up for him walking away … but it was something. Something that should have been said. A small beam of light in the vast darkness they’d been left with. Maybe it would have given her some comfort knowing that at least he’d cared enough to make sure they wouldn’t be left on the street.

  “You never told us that,” Olivia whispered, her voice shaking.

  Their mother lifted her chin. “It didn’t matter. Abandoning a family with or without money is the same thing.”

  Grandma Ruby let out a long, wobbly sigh. “It was something that should have been shared, Wendy.”

  Their mother threw her hands in the air, the punch spilling over the rim this time. “Oh, great, so now we’re going to just let him off the hook because he sent a check every month, and I’m the bad guy!”

  “Of course not,” Charlotte snapped, trying to rein in her anger toward all of them. She was mad at her mother for always manipulating the truth and making herself out to be a victim. She was mad at her sister for still not confiding in her after all they’d been through. And she was mad at Grandma Ruby for allowing her dad in. This Christmas should have been hers. And Wyatt’s and Sam’s. They’d all had their chances at love, this was supposed to be her turn. “But it would have been nice for us to process the truth instead of your version of it,” she said.

  “None of this should matter, he walked out on all of us! The real person to blame is Mom, for this ridiculous open door Christmas Eve policy!” her mother said, pointing her glass at Grandma Ruby.

  “Don’t do that, Wendy. Don’t blame Ruby. I’m the one who came here uninvited,” her dad said.

  Her mom rolled her eyes. “No need to play the hero, Mac. Years too late for that.”

  Grandma Ruby stepped forward. “The only reason I let him in is because—”

  “Yes, yes, your altruistic policy about letting everyone in at Christmas. You always have to be so self-righteous, don’t you,” her mother said, bitterness seeping through her voice.

  “Mom!” Charlotte yelled, unwilling to let her grandma take the blame for this, even though her policy had made her night even worse. “Back off.”

  “It’s all right, Charlotte. Your mother never understood why I do this, even though I’ve explained it to her before. But I’ve never shared it with you girls. Maybe it’s time I do. Follow me into the kitchen—all of you. We can’t scare away the guests,” she said, walking toward the kitchen, her face drawn, her shoulders hunched slightly.

  Wyatt grabbed Charlotte’s hand and she clasped it, like a lifeline, one she’d never had before. She couldn’t bring herself to look him in the eye, but for once she didn’t feel so alone.

  “You don’t have to do anything or explain anything you don’t want, Grandma,” Olivia said, sitting down beside Grandma Ruby in the kitchen.

  “Maybe it will put a lot of things into perspective for you. At the very least, it will give you something to think about and give you the real reason of how The Christmas House came to be,” she said, extending her hand to Charlotte as well. Charlotte sat across from Olivia but avoided eye contact with her; there was too much to process. Wyatt stood behind Charlotte, his hand on her shoulder. Their parents stayed still, at opposite ends of the table.

  “When I was eighteen, I was supposed to get engaged to a young man—your grandfather,” she said.

  Olivia made a little noise and Charlotte looked at her—this was what they’d overheard during the argument.

  “The night that we were supposed to announce our engagement to my parents … he hung himself.”

  “Oh, Grandma,” she said as Olivia reached across and took their grandmother’s hand.

  Grandma Ruby shook her head and sat up a little straighter. “I was pregnant, and we knew that we had to tell our parents. We hoped that by announcing our engagement and having a quick wedding it would have spared the rumors and been an easy fix. It was a different time, a different era, remember, in a very religious community.”

  “He couldn’t face his family?” Charlotte whispered.

  Grandma Ruby shrugged her shoulders. “I guess not. He couldn’t face the repercussions.”

  “I’m so sorry, Grandma,” Olivia said, squeezing her hand.

  Grandma Ruby’s face softened slight. “Thank you. I … I should have known better. I can look back now and see that he wasn’t a man to build a life with. He had no honor. No courage.”

  Her father cleared his throat. “I want to explain to you girls, not for my sake, for both of yours. My leaving had nothing to do with you. Early o
n after becoming a cop, I witnessed something horrible. I wasn’t mentally prepared, and I didn’t take the counseling that was offered. I struggled. I wasn’t there for your mother. I took a lot of my anger out on her. I couldn’t sleep. And that day … Charlotte, that day I told you I’d be at your school, I had a complete breakdown. I left town, and a week later checked myself into a hospital,” he said, his voice cracking and his eyes watering.

  Charlotte tried to breathe against the weight in her chest, but she couldn’t get a breath deep enough to relieve the ache. “And after that?” she whispered.

  “I was there for almost a year. I started a new life—”

  “With a new family?” Olivia asked.

  He shook his head. “No. Never. I was afraid to come back. By that point your mother and I decided divorce was the only option. I couldn’t face you girls, but I also couldn’t face myself. I didn’t trust myself anymore. I knew that I couldn’t come back and be in your lives and then disappear again if I started having problems. I thought it was better if I just stayed away,” he said, clutching the side of the table.

  “Mom, you had contact with Dad? You never told us any of this,” Charlotte said, trying to remain calm. She was trying to process everything her dad was saying, but it was too much.

  Her mother glanced away. “He didn’t deserve you girls knowing the truth.”

  “Oh, Wendy,” Grandma Ruby said in a low voice, shaking her head.

  “I don’t need judgment. I was trying to do my best too,” her mother said.

  “Can we leave now? I can’t deal with this right now,” Olivia said, standing, her arms crossed.

  Her father stood up. “I’ll leave. I just wanted you to know that I’m here. I’m in town if you ever want to see me or talk. No pressure. Whatever you’re comfortable with. I’m sorry for everything. And I’m sorry for ruining your Christmas Eve,” he said, walking toward the door.

  “Wait. How long are you in town?” Olivia asked.

  He turned around. “For good. I’ve got a job in town. I’m staying in Silver Springs.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  PRESENT DAY, DECEMBER 24

  SILVER SPRINGS

  Ruby walked to the front door, no one noticing that the doorbell had rung again. It was late to welcome a guest, but she couldn’t refuse. There were leftovers in the kitchen. Her bones felt weary tonight, and the composure she’d been struggling to hold onto threatened to run away with the falling night. She was supposed to have brought peace to her family this Christmas, but had in fact done the opposite. No one was speaking. That was fine because she didn’t exactly feel like speaking to any of them right now either.

  All their secrets had come out, including hers. Harsh words had been spoken, and she knew this would all have to be sorted out. But not tonight.

  Everyone had gone their separate directions and she herself was ready to change into her nightgown and call it a night.

  She suspected that Charlotte would be gone by morning—her eldest granddaughter had more in common with her than she had ever believed. That girl did not want to have her heart broken, and she wanted to rely on no one. Ruby couldn’t blame her. But it wasn’t right.

  Thank goodness for Mary, who had managed to run the rest of the dinner and help her clean up. Good friends like that were treasures, and she’d learned long ago, so many years ago, the power of good friends that turned into family.

  She paused at the door and schooled her features. She needed to welcome a needy person with an air of comfort and warmth and reassurance. She opened the door and the man standing there … robbed her of all her breath, every ounce of her composure. The breath she let out, from the very depths of her soul as she clutched the frame of the door.

  Harry.

  “Merry Christmas, Ruby,” he said. His voice was as deep as she remembered, his features still so impossibly handsome after all these years. He still stood tall, his hair all white now, but combed back, without a strand out of place. His dark coat clung to his broad shoulders, and he was every bit the distinguished man he’d promised to be way back when.

  “Harry, come in,” she finally said, holding open the screen. Her heart couldn’t seem to catch a normal rhythm, and she was pretty sure her cheeks were flushed.

  It was a good thing her granddaughters weren’t here or they’d probably call an ambulance, thinking she was about to have a heart attack. She fought the urge to smooth out her hair or fix her dress. They stood there silently. Maybe he was taking in this new version of her just as she was taking him in.

  Years seemed to float and dance between them, as though they were nothing, and it felt as though no time had passed. She felt like that young woman again, barely twenty, pregnant, and vulnerable. She could still hear his deep voice, just like she’d heard it so many nights as she lay awake staring at the dark ceiling, as she imagined what it would have been like to be his wife. Would they have fallen in love? Would they have had more children? Would life have been so much better with him? But she had gone it alone.

  She had thought that the path where she relied on no one would be safer. But standing here now, with this man in front of her, she wondered if the risky path would have been so much greater, if loving him would have been worth the risk. She wondered until it was almost suffocating, that realization that she might have been wrong. Like Charlotte was running toward safety, she had done the same.

  “You look as beautiful as you did that last day I saw you,” he said, his voice thick before he broke into a small smile that tilted one corner of his mouth upward.

  And darn it if her stomach didn’t flutter like it had that day. “You always were a gentleman,” she said with a smile.

  He ducked his head momentarily. “I hope you don’t mind me showing up like this. But … I had this overwhelming urge to see you. I never forgot you, Ruby.”

  A shiver stole through her, catching her by surprise, almost overwhelming her. She clasped her hands together in an attempt to control her emotions. “Harry … I never forgot you either. I never forgot the kindness you showed me that day or in the following couple of years. I can pay you back now. I never used the money. I saved it.”

  He held up a hand and she noticed there wasn’t a wedding band on it, but she pushed those thoughts away because the life he had led wasn’t her business. “I would never take a dime from you, and I would have kept on helping you if you’d let me.”

  She smiled at him, the sincerity in his voice, the softness in his eyes making her warm. “I know you would have. But I needed to make my own way in the world. I needed to prove to myself, I needed to show my daughter, that I was capable.”

  He returned her smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I’d say you made it, Ruby.”

  She paused for a moment, her mind racing, her body tingling with excitement. “Would you like to come in for a drink? I have leftovers and desserts.”

  His smile widened. “I was hoping you’d ask.”

  * * *

  Ruby sat across from Harry at the dining room table half an hour later. She had put together a tray of cheeses and fruits, and he had poured them each a glass of brandy. The fire was roaring and the lights from the garland twinkled in the windows. Her heart fluttered, reminding her of the girl she used to be, of a life that she’d lived so long ago it almost didn’t feel real. Excitement coursed through her, and she couldn’t wait to hear all about him.

  “So how did life treat you, Harry? Did you get married, have children?”

  He held up his glass, and she lightly tapped hers to his. “Merry Christmas, Ruby,” he said, before they book took sips. “Yes, I did get married. We had three children together and I now have eight grandchildren,” he said, smiling, his eyes twinkling.

  She ignored the stab of … she didn’t know what. Maybe regret that she hadn’t lived a conventional life like that … or maybe that he’d had that life with someone else. That was silly of her, she realized. Selfish, too. Because she was happy for him. He had a
lways been a good man, and even though he didn’t know it, he’d been a source of strength for her.

  “It sounds like a very happy, very full life,” she said, placing a small piece of cheese on a cracker.

  He nodded. “It was. I’m very blessed. My wife, Ellen, died five years ago. Too soon, but my family was there, and we got through her loss together.”

  Ruby wanted to reach across the table and place her hand over his. If he’d been anyone else, she probably would have. But with Harry, it didn’t seem … appropriate. “I’m sorry. After a lifetime together it must be hard to move on.”

  He cleared his throat and gave her a nod. “She was a good woman. A dedicated wife and mother and a true life partner.”

  Ruby swallowed past the lump in her throat and took a sip of brandy. “I’m happy for you.”

  “Ruby, I’m too old to lie and waste time. I came here because you were always somewhere in my mind, in my thoughts over the years. If I’m going to be completely honest, you were in my heart. Sometimes it felt as though I were keeping a secret from Ellen, because you were always there, hovering. If I could go back, I would have tried again. I would have come back to this place and tried to talk to you again. But the young man I used to be didn’t have the confidence to keep trying to woo a woman like you.”

  Ruby was glad she didn’t have an underlying heart condition, because she would probably have been on the floor. Her cheeks were burning and her stomach was in so many knots it hurt to take a breath. She had been on his mind? In his heart? He would have tried with her again? A woman like her? There was so much to say, so many things she was afraid to say, that she could only keep her mouth shut.