“Aspens. And they’re gorgeous in the fall.”
“I’ve only seen pictures, but I know what you’re talking about—the bright yellows, the shimmery golds.” She could almost picture them in front of her. “I don’t recall exactly what I was researching, but I remember learning that a huge grove of aspens in Utah is one of the world’s largest living organisms.”
“No kidding?” He sounded surprised.
“Yeah, it’s thousands of years old.”
“We should go there for the changing of the leaves sometime.”
“I’d like that.”
“What are you doing next fall?” he asked, as if he were setting up a golf game with one of his buddies.
“Oh, gosh. My calendar’s so full, but I might be able to squeeze you in.”
“Good, then it’s a date.” He grinned. “And what are you doing for Christmas?”
She stopped and met his eyes. “I...don’t know,” she faltered, too terrified to dream that she could actually have a Christmas filled with love again. “I don’t have any plans.”
“Would you like to spend it with me in Denver?”
She blinked back the tears, smiling. “I would.”
“I was hoping you’d say that.” He leaned over and gave her another kiss. “We have a lot to talk about.”
“I know.” She took a deep breath. “I don’t want to live in two different states.”
“I don’t either, so we’re going to figure it out. Okay?”
She nodded because she couldn’t speak, too overwhelmed with joy. She could finally see a future that wasn’t the loveless, lonely existence she had come to accept. For the first time in so long, she could see a future filled with love and happiness.
He took her hand and they walked awhile longer—until the flurries turned to snow. “We should probably head back. The party will be starting soon.”
She studied his face. “Are you anxious about what will happen with Mike today?”
“A little.” Traces of nervousness colored his voice. “But I’m more worried about my parents.”
“I imagine it will be a shock for them to see him. Is there anything I can do?”
He turned and stared into her eyes, his intense gaze holding her. “Just be there for me?”
The strong, protective man by her side was asking for her support, trusting her to help get him through whatever was about to happen that afternoon. That meant more to her than he knew. She touched the side of his face. “Always.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Mary was preparing food in the kitchen, a little frazzled, since many of her guests decided to show up early. Joe had quickly gotten the word out that their beloved handyman could potentially be receiving good news today, so twenty more people asked to come to Mary’s not-so-little get-together. Now she was cranking out as many appetizers as she could.
“Okay, Mrs. Carroll, I’m reporting back that our guests are being watered and fed as I speak,” Joe said. “What’s next?”
“Thank you, Mr. Carroll.” She threw breaded mozzarella sticks on a baking sheet right as the oven timer went off. “Can you take the pigs in a blanket out of the oven?”
“Sure thing.” He slid his hand into an oven mitt and retrieved the pan. “Oh, boy. You haven’t made these in a long time.”
“Jack said they were one of his uncle’s favorite foods. I thought they might help with his recall.”
“They’d certainly help me.”
“You can have as many as you want, as long as you keep an eye on Mike today. Jack and his parents are going to be sharing a lot of their memories with him. If he can’t remember and gets upset, I don’t want him jumping in his car and driving on icy roads.”
“Don’t you worry,” he said, taking the mini hot dogs off the pan and placing them on a large platter that Mary provided him. “I’ve got a bunch of little things on my to-do list that I can always ask Mike to help me with should something go sideways.”
“That’s a relief.” She set the honey-mustard dipping sauce in the center of the platter, then took a saucepan of hot cider off the stove and poured it into several mugs.
“You’ll be happy to know that Jack and Charley are back together again.” He lifted the platter in one hand and a Christmas tree made of fruit in the other.
“Hallelujah.” She looked up to heaven before grabbing the tray of mugs with two hands. “One Scrooge rehabilitated. One Christmas wish to go.”
* * *
Jack gave a light rap on Charley’s door as he heard people arriving downstairs. He already had knots in his stomach, worried that his uncle wouldn’t remember his parents or anything about his previous life. But when Charley opened the door and he saw her beautiful smile, his nerves managed to subside.
“Do you have a moment before we go downstairs?” she asked.
“Sure.” He stepped inside as she walked over to the table by the window.
“I was going to give this to you at Christmas,” she said, handing him a wrapped present. “But considering what is about to happen, well, I thought you should have it now.”
He looked at her curiously as he untied the bow and tore off the paper, exposing a red, white, and blue hand-carved wooden sailboat. He put a fist to his mouth as his eyes welled up. “Oh, Charley,” he said with a cracking voice. “This is just like the ones my uncle used to make.” He swallowed hard, then cleared this throat. “Where did you find this?”
“The local toy store.” She brushed away a stray tear. “I’ve tried to get the artist’s information, but I still don’t have it.”
“I do.” Jack wiped his face with the back of his hand, then took Charley in his arms and held her tight. “Thank you.”
* * *
It took more than a moment for Jack to collect himself, and by the time he and Charley made it downstairs, the living room was packed.
“There they are.” Charley pointed to his parents standing by the living room picture window.
As he and Charley made their way over, his mom instantly beamed at the sight of the two of them together.
“I’m so glad you were able to stay longer.” His mom reached for Charley’s hand.
“So am I, Mrs. Brody.”
“Please, call me Allison.”
Charley smiled and squeezed her hand.
Mary nudged in. “I’ve got hot apple cider here, if anyone would like some.”
“Yes, please.” His mom eagerly took two mugs off Mary’s tray—one for her and one for his dad.
Jack reached in. “Cider, Charley?” She nodded, and he grabbed two. His mom appeared casual, but he knew she was a wreck inside.
“There’s plenty of appetizers on the table and over on the bar, so help yourselves.”
“Thank you, Mary,” Jack said gratefully, realizing just how much work she and Joe had put into the party for his family.
His mom blew on her cider, then took a small sip. “Absolutely delicious. This B&B is a real gem. How did you ever find it, Jack?”
“I was booked at another place, but they had a flood, so the Carrolls took me in.”
His mom cast a sideways glance at his dad, who looked anxious. “We might have to make a habit of this place, don’t you think, Michael?”
“Huh?” His dad met her gaze. “What were you saying?”
“That everything is going to be just fine.” She rubbed her distracted husband’s back.
“He’s still coming, isn’t he?” Jack’s dad asked, concern creeping in his voice as he kept glancing toward the front entrance.
“Yes,” Jack reassured his father. “I already checked with Joe. He said Mike was finishing up a job and that he would be over soon.”
Charley stepped back to get a better sightline of the front door right as it opened. “Someone just arrived,” she reported, which had Jack
and his parents craning their necks.
“I think it might be Mike,” Jack said, his height allowing him a better vantage point. “Yes, he’s here.”
“Oh!” His mom took a deep breath, putting her hand over her heart.
“It’s all right, Mom.” He steadied her. “We have plenty of time.”
At the front door, Mary and Joe appeared by Mike’s side. Joe took his coat while Mary handed him a mug of hot cider. She then turned to address her guests.
“May I have your attention, please?” she called to the small crowd, and the chatter slowly dissipated. “As many of you know, Joe and I have been trying to win the house decoration contest for years, and this year we really have a chance. We want to thank all of you who helped build our new, amazing, outdoor model train display, and we want to especially thank the man who designed it, Mike Hodges.”
The room erupted with applause as Mike beamed with pride.
“Thank you, but I was more than happy to do it, and like Santa, I had a lot of great helpers.” Mike gestured to the crowd and raised his mug to his volunteer crew. “Here’s to everyone coming together to help the Carrolls. The judges will cast their votes tonight, so may they win hands down!”
The room erupted with cheers, whistles, and applause before everyone settled back into their conversations. The Carrolls’ guests appeared to be having a good time, except for Jack’s parents, who remained by the big picture window, tense and nervous.
Jack’s dad wasn’t taking his eyes off Mike.
“Honey, do you think that’s your brother?” his mom asked.
“It’s hard to tell from here,” he said with a shaky breath. “I need to look into his eyes to know for sure.”
The sooner they could get Mike’s undivided attention, the better. “Mike loves Mary’s food,” Jack said. “Charley, maybe we can get him back here for some appetizers.”
“Let’s do it.” They walked over to Mike, who was chatting with Rebecca and Tom.
“Charley. You stayed,” Rebecca cried.
“I couldn’t leave.”
“We’re all glad you didn’t,” Rebecca said, winking at Jack.
“It’s good to see you’re standing again, Tom.” Jack tried to keep it light and casual even though his stomach was one big ball of anxiety.
“The swelling’s almost gone,” he said, staring down at his ankle. “Thanks to all of you.”
Jack glanced at Mike. “Did Tom tell you what happened?”
“He was just filling me in. Setting big guys like us on any slippery surface is a disaster waiting to happen.”
They all laughed.
“Have you seen the spread of food Mary put out for all of us?” Charley asked Mike.
“I haven’t had a chance.” His eyes darted around the room, lit with anticipation.
“We’ve been sampling everything,” Rebecca said. “It’s all so good.”
Tom nudged Mike. “You better go over there and get some before it’s gone.”
“I think I will.” Mike made a beeline for the two tables of food, leaving Charley and Jack to follow quickly behind. Jack motioned to his parents to grab a seat on the couch.
Mike studied the platters of food. “Charley, do you happen to know what these are?” He pointed to the closest platter.
“Bacon-wrapped water chestnuts.”
Mike set a couple on a paper plate and continued to move along the table.
“This dish is roasted garlic shrimp,” Charley said. “Mary also made pigs in a blanket and a Christmas tree made of fruit.”
“Pigs in a blanket?” Mike’s eyes popped wide with excitement. “I love pigs in a blanket. Funny how I just remembered that. Gosh, I haven’t had any since...” He looked as if he was struggling to remember, and then turned red with embarrassment. “Well, it’s been a while.”
Jack took a deep breath, feeling anxiety tighten his chest as Mike loaded up his plate. “I’ve got some seats for us by the couch,” Jack told him, gathering a sampler platter for his parents, even though he knew they were too nervous to eat.
Mike snagged a handful of napkins, then followed him and Charley over to the sitting area. Jack’s parents stood as he began the introductions. “Mike, I’d like you to meet my parents, Allison and Michael Brody,” he said, regarding Mike carefully.
“Nice to meet you folks.” Mike made direct eye contact with them before he sat with his plate of food and mug of cider.
Jack hadn’t seen any recognition from Mike, which was truly disappointing.
“You’ve raised a good son here,” Mike said. “He was a great help to me with the outdoor train display.” He bit into a pig in a blanket.
His parents were suddenly very quiet. Both of them had watery eyes.
“And Jack really helped me with my investigation,” Charley jumped in, since it looked as if he and his parents were going to lose it.
“He’s a good son.” His mom dabbed her eyes with the corner of a paper napkin.
“How’s it going over here?” Mary asked, stopping by. “Can I get anyone anything?”
Mike took a drink of his cider, washing down his food. “Mary, you need to open a restaurant. This is killer food.”
“I’m so glad you’re enjoying it,” she said before eyeing Jack.
“I agree with Mike. Only the rest of us are just getting started on it.” Jack hoped she would understand his cryptic message.
“Very good.” Mary nodded. “Holler if you need me.” She walked away, and Jack watched her quietly ask the other guests to give them some space.
Mike didn’t catch any of it, too focused on his food. “These are so good.”
“They are,” his mom said in a fragile voice. “I used to make pigs in a blanket every Sunday after church. Michael’s brother Bill went crazy for them.”
“I can see why.” With no sign of recognition, Mike stuffed another one in his mouth.
His mom’s chin quivered. Charley stepped in so she could get it together.
“When did you say you last had them?” Charley asked.
Mike shook his head. “I wish I could remember.”
Jack cleared his throat, pushing down his emotions. “He suffers from memory loss,” he said, pretending his parents didn’t know.
“I’m so sorry.” His mom stared at Mike. “My sister suffers from the same thing. She has to work on her recall all the time. Would you like to try a recall exercise? There’s one in particular that works really well when eating food.”
Mike gave her a questioning look, seeming to wonder if she was serious. “Uh...sure.”
“Great.” She forced a smile. “Take a bite, then close your eyes. It will help you to better concentrate on the full taste of what you’re eating.”
Mike did as she requested.
“Now, picture where you were the last time you tasted the same thing. Take yourself back, way back—even if it was twenty years ago.”
Mike kept his eyes closed, slowly chewing. He stopped for a moment. His brows furrowed, and then he swallowed. Mike opened his eyes and glanced at Jack’s mom.
“Do you remember anything?” she asked.
“I don’t know.” He blinked, then stared off in space. “I think I saw an oak table by a window. I want to say it was snowing, like it is today, but maybe I’m just imagining it.”
“That’s great,” his mom said. “This is how it works. Do you remember anyone around the table?”
Mike stilled, trying to recall.
Jack’s mom wiped away tears, beginning to lose control, so his dad took over. “Maybe there’s a ten-year-old boy there, or his mom or another adult male?”
Mike shifted his gaze to Jack’s dad and stared into his eyes. For a moment, Jack thought he saw a glimmer of recognition cross Mike’s face. Mike couldn’t seem to look away, as if he was de
sperately trying to place him. “It’s funny, but you...have we met before?”
Jack inhaled sharply, unable to move.
“I think so,” his dad replied in an unsteady voice as he reached for his mom’s hand. “We lived in Chicago for years. Do you remember living in Chicago?”
Mike studied Jack’s dad for several seconds before he shifted his focus to his mom. He then closed his eyes, appearing as if he were concentrating on images playing in his head. He opened his eyes, only to gaze off in the distance. “I... I think I...”
His mom and dad were barely holding it together. Mike kept taking long pauses and looking up. Jack had seen this behavior with victims of a crime who were trying to recall repressed memories. He held his breath, praying his uncle would remember. He could see that Mike was right on the edge of remembering something.
With confusion filtering through Mike’s eyes, he cocked his head to one side. “I... I remember taking the subway.”
Both Charley and his mom gasped as Jack’s father continued.
“Just like my brother, Bill. He took the ‘L’ to work all the time.”
Mike slowly nodded, as if his mind was seeking out fragmented memories to stitch together.
“Back then, Bill was in construction,” his dad said. “He did a little bit of everything—plumbing, framing, electrical—you name it. He could do it all.”
Mike began trembling as he listened intently.
“He’d feel right at home here because he lived for Christmas,” his dad said. “He spent the holidays with us every year. Came over days in advance, and together we’d turn the house into a Christmas wonderland.”
Mike stared at his dad again. “I feel like I know this guy. Bill, you say?”
“Yes, Bill Brody.” His dad reached into his jacket and pulled out old pictures. “Here’s Bill with Jack and me.” He handed it to Mike, who stared at the picture.
Jack grabbed hold of Charley’s hand, ready to come out of his skin.
“Here’s another picture of Bill in his workshop.” His dad gave Mike the photo. “He used to make all kinds of things—coffee tables, bookshelves, airplanes, sailboats. He built beautiful dollhouses for sick kids at the hospital.”
Colorado Christmas Magic Page 24
