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Unforgettable Christmas - Gifts of Love (The Unforgettables Book 3)

Page 19

by Mimi Barbour


  But he was looking at her with such… She ran her tongue over her suddenly parched lips as she tried to put a name to the intensity in his expression.

  “I’m ready!” Izzie bounded into the room.

  Aaron and Christy sprang apart like teens who had been caught doing something naughty. They avoided looking at each other and focused on Izzie instead. She was wearing her coat, buttoned up tight, hood up and tied, and she held two brightly wrapped packages, complete with bows and curly ribbon.

  “Are you going somewhere?” her father asked.

  “We are.” Then her smile slipped. “We’re going to drive around and look at the lights, aren’t we? We’re going to the boardwalk, right? You promised. It’s nearly dark out.”

  “Oh,” was all Aaron said. “Of course.”

  Izzie brightened. “These are for under the tree.” She held up the gifts. “One for you, daddy. And one for Christy.” The skin where her eyebrows should have been rose significantly as she added, “I hope you two remembered to bring some presents. Christmas morning isn’t much fun without surprises.”

  Christy laughed and so did Aaron.

  “Don’t worry,” Christy assured her. “I brought gifts.”

  “Honey, are you sure you feel up to going out again?” Aaron asked. “You look tired.”

  “I feel great.” Then Izzie added, “Really.”

  Thinking father and daughter might like some time alone, Christy suggested, “Maybe I should stay here and bake more cookies—“

  “No,” Izzie said. “I want you to come. Please, Christy?”

  The child’s pleading tone pulled at Christy’s most tender emotions. Without hesitating, she waved her arms, herding them both toward the front door.

  “Let’s do this!”

  Chapter Four

  Being a tourist town, Ocean City was flooded with upwards of a quarter of a million people in the hot summer months. But once winter set in, the town was sparsely populated with fewer than ten thousand year-round local residents. The streets were empty this Christmas Eve save for a car or two. But the ghost-town-like feel only made this adventure more fun.

  Aaron drove slowly along Coastal Highway, the main thoroughfare that ran through the full length of the town, as Izzie and Christy searched for signs of colorful lights. The object of this game, Izzie had explained, was to be the first to shout out an alert that a decorated home had been found. Businesses lined the highway which meant the houses were tucked away down the short side streets.

  “Snowman!” Izzie called.

  The turn signal clicked a steady beat and Aaron turned right.

  “Where?” Christy craned her neck, looking east, north, west, and south.

  “Look up.” The little girl giggled with delight.

  Sure enough, a fat snowman glowed in the darkness on a condo balcony a couple stories up, a smile frozen on its face, a red mitten lifted in a friendly greeting.

  And so it went. They saw one home literally covered—windows, doors, eaves, and roof—in vibrant blue lights. Another property was studded with flashing palm trees and pink flamingoes. Still another had an array of mechanical animals set up in a magical, Christmas wonderland complete with fake snow. Izzie ooo-ed and ah-ed at each display, and Aaron had to admit that some of the elaborate decorations impressed him, as well.

  He parked near the boardwalk, cut the engine, and twisted to face his daughter. “Are you sure you’re up to walking?”

  She only nodded, and shoved her way out of the car.

  Aaron looked across the seat at Christy. “Are you ready for this? It’s cold out there.”

  “Gloves, hat, scarf, insulated jacket,” she said. “I’m ready.”

  He paused long enough to shoot her a serious look. “You’re being a great sport about all of this, Christy. Being dragged out in the cold on Christmas Eve is going above the call. I do appreciate it.”

  She smiled at him, and suddenly he couldn’t seem to draw a breath. He felt as if he was really seeing her for the first time. He blinked, opened his mouth, and then shut it again. She was a stunningly beautiful woman.

  Izzie rapped on his window.

  Her voice was muffled as she urged, “Come on, Daddy.”

  The adults exited the car, and as soon as Aaron closed the door, he looked across the roof at Christy. Her blond hair curled softly around her shoulders, and her hands were stuffed into her jacket pockets. She walked up the ramp toward the boardwalk, and Aaron couldn’t help but notice how nicely she filled out her jeans with soft, feminine curves.

  He felt a yank on his coat. “Daddy, let’s go.”

  “Sure, honey. Sure.” Taking his daughter’s outstretched hand, he followed after Christy.

  This was an odd feeling. He’d known Christy was a flesh and blood woman. He’d realized she had a kind and giving nature; she’d been caring for his daughter at the hospital, on and off, for many months now, and no one would sacrifice their own Christmas for the sake of a child unless that person was very special, indeed. So he had noticed some things about her. And after hearing her story earlier, he also knew that, just like him, she’d experienced tragedy in her life. Learning how she’d lost her daughter had touched his heart to the point that he’d been compelled to comfort her. But why hadn’t he noticed just how pretty she was? Or how enticingly her hips swayed when she walked? He guessed it had been because, until this moment, he’d been preoccupied, completely and utterly focused on his goal of getting Izzie to Ocean City for the Christmas celebration she so hoped for.

  “Oh, wow, how pretty!”

  Aaron had to smile when his daughter shouted out the very words that were racing through his head. Of course, Izzie was describing something totally different.

  His little girl released his hand and ran ahead, passing Christy in the process, as she took in all the cheerful holiday lights of the businesses and homes along the boardwalk. Christy slowed her gait until he caught up to her.

  “I’ve never spent Christmas near the ocean,” she told him. “The sound of the waves and that salty tang in the air give the season a whole different feel.”

  “Everyone should spend at least one Christmas near the sea.”

  She hugged herself and shimmied her shoulders. “That breeze that’s so refreshing in the summer, cuts right through you this time of year, though, doesn’t it?”

  As if it were the most natural thing in the world, he wrapped an arm around her. “We won’t be out long. Izzie will be worn out soon.”

  “Hey, don’t you worry about me.” She grinned. “I’m tough.”

  Aaron laughed. “I’m sure you are.”

  “Dad! Dad!” Izzie shouted. “We’re almost to the Lonely Loon. I can see it from here!”

  “We’re coming as fast as we can,” he called back, and the adults hastened their pace. “My daughter is in love with the Lonely Loon. It’s a big, ramshackle Victorian and the owner goes all out with the Christmas decorations.”

  They reached Izzie who had climbed up onto the sea wall and now stood, gazing up at the brightly lit house.

  “The Lonely Loon.” Izzie’s tongue lingered on the Ls. “I love sayin’ that.”

  “It’s a B&B,” Christy said.

  The entire house was outlined in tiny white lights. Strings of vibrant red lights spiraled down the full length of the white porch columns, turning them into fat candy canes. Electronic icicles dripped from the eaves and the motion of the lights made them look as if they were actually melting. The evergreen wreath secured to the front door was huge and welcoming.

  “Yeah,” Izzie said. “It looks like a huge dollhouse, doesn’t it? It’s my favorite place on the whole boardwalk.”

  “You like it even more than the arcades?” her dad asked.

  Izzie laughed. “Okay. It’s my favorite place on the boardwalk in the winter time.”

  Aaron grinned at Christy and told her, “The arcades are closed this time of year.”

  “Ah.” Christy nodded.

&n
bsp; Just then a woman hurried around the corner, her arms filled with colorfully wrapped boxes and fancy gift bags. One of the boxes slipped from her grasp and bounced on the wooden boards.

  “I’ll get that for you.” Christy hurried to pick up the box.

  “Thanks,” the woman said, a bright smile on her face. “Merry Christmas to you.”

  “Merry Christmas,” Izzie called. “The Lonely Loon is really pretty this year.”

  “Well, thank you, sugarplum,” the woman said. “I’ll be sure to give Heather your compliment. She owns the building. I’m Cathy. I run the Sunshine Grill there.” With a jerk of her head, she indicated the restaurant located on the first floor of the B&B.

  “I’m Izzie, and we’ve had breakfast there,” Izzie told her. “I ordered the pancakes with strawberry topping. They were good.”

  Aaron didn’t think the woman’s smile could get any bigger, but his daughter’s compliment made Cathy’s face beam. “Well, thank you, Miss Izzie. I appreciate the kind words. Hey, you look like you’re half frozen. Why don’t you bring your mom and dad inside? I’m sure there’s a fire in the hearth and hot apple cider too. And cookies!”

  Izzie jumped off the sea wall, grabbed her daddy’s hand in one of hers and Christy’s hand in the other, and then she looked up at them with pleading eyes. “Please, can we go in? Just for a little while?”

  Aaron looked at Christy. “Do you mind?”

  “It’ll be fun,” she told him. “And I’d love some hot cider.”

  “Great,” Cathy said. “Follow me.”

  As they traipsed up the steps that led to the front porch, Izzie whispered to him, “She thinks we’re a family.”

  The sheer joy in her tone warmed Aaron’s heart, and in his mind’s eye, he could easily imagine Izzie checking off another wish fulfilled on the list in her journal.

  The scent of cinnamon and apples wafted in the air as Cathy ushered them into the foyer. An old-fashioned ceramic Christmas tree sat on a round table next to a guestbook and a dish filled with red, white, and green candy ribbon.

  “There are plenty of hooks for your coats and scarves there on the wall,” she instructed. “I’m going to go put these presents under the tree before I drop them all over the floor.” She took the box from Christy and smiled her thanks. “Head on into the great room when you’re ready.”

  Christy helped Izzie out of her coat and mittens, and then pulled off her own.

  “It’s so quaint, isn’t it?” she said.

  Izzie was trying to take in everything at once. “Just like a big, ol’ dollhouse.”

  Aaron followed his daughter and Christy into the next room. He knew Izzie would go ga-ga over the vintage silver tinseled Christmas tree. And she didn’t disappoint him, practically ignoring everyone in her rush to get closer. Lit from beneath with slowly twirling lights, the tree reflected red, green, blue in a dazzling display.

  “It’s beautiful,” she said.

  Aaron swept the room with his gaze and cringed at the tragic expressions of the adults as they looked at his daughter. Their knee-jerk reactions were something he was familiar with, of course. Most people responded to her bald head and delicate appearance with the same startled and sympathetic look. Too bad practice didn’t make it any easier for him to witness.

  Christy crossed the room and squatted next to Izzie. “I’ve never seen anything quite as pretty.”

  Cathy offered him a silent apology and then said, “Everyone, this is my new friend, Izzie. This is her mom and dad, and I invited them in for some apple cider by the fire so they could warm up a bit.”

  Introductions were made; there was Heather, who owned the Lonely Loon, and Sara, who ran the sweet shop downstairs, and Sara’s friend, Greg. And then there was a quiet man who sat in the corner whose name Aaron wasn’t able to decipher above all the chatter.

  Cups of cider were served from the crock pot that kept it steamy. Aaron sipped, relishing the warm taste of cinnamon and the sweet tang of apples. He looked over at Izzie who was happily munching a wreath-shaped cookie.

  They sang carols and told funny tales on each other. Apparently, the three women had been life-long friends who had grown up here in Ocean City. About twenty minutes into the visit, Christy signaled Aaron and pointed at Izzie who had fallen asleep on the sofa.

  “Thank you so much for inviting us in,” Aaron told Cathy and the others. “But we’d better get Izzie home.”

  As gently as possible, he and Christy got Izzie bundled up, and with his sleeping daughter cradled in his arms, they said their good-byes.

  “God bless you,” Heather said, giving Christy a hug.

  Cathy and Sara took turns doing the same.

  “We’ll keep all of you in our thoughts and prayers,” Cathy said.

  “Happy Christmas to your beautiful family,” Sara murmured.

  When Aaron and Christy were back on the boardwalk, he could barely breathe around the huge lump of emotion sitting like a fist in the center of his chest.

  “They were nice people,” Christy said softly.

  He nodded. “They thought we were a family.” The words came out sounding rusty. “It’s what Izzie’s been wanting. To be a family again. Thank you for not correcting them when they called you Izzie’s mom.”

  Christy just smiled, and Aaron’s heart thudded in his chest. This flood of emotions was almost more than he could bear. Thankfully, she didn’t say anything more. She just grasped his forearm and leaned her head on his shoulder as they slowly made their way back to the car.

  Just like a family.

  Chapter Five

  Christmas morning arrived under a lead gray sky. The presents had been opened and wrapping paper littered the living room which Aaron promised to clean up after his shower. Christy was standing at the stove, waiting to flip the chocolate chip pancakes that Izzie had requested. The smoky scent of bacon filled the air. Izzie was at the sink, her hands covered in soapy water, as she carefully washed the porcelain saucers, cups, and pot that Christy had given her.

  “I love my tea set,” Izzie said for what must have been the tenth time.

  “I’m happy you like it. We’ll have a tea party this afternoon.” She’d stayed up late last night baking more cookies. Not that cookies were scarce in the house. No, there were plenty. But she’d needed something to fill the time after they’d returned home from the boardwalk. After Aaron had put Izzie into bed, he’d come back to the kitchen to help. Christy couldn’t put her finger on it, but she felt that something had changed between them. Their conversation was easier, and they’d even found an occasion or two to laugh, once when the canister slipped out of her grasp and she’d spilled sugar across the counter, and again when she noticed a mound of dough was missing from the cookie sheet and he’d fessed up to popping it into his mouth.

  She’d learned a lot about him last night. He owned a franchise of twenty-four hour gyms. In the early years, he’d done a lot of traveling in order to help new licensees find locations and set up their facilities, to attend openings, and troubleshoot problems that arose. But once Izzie had been diagnosed, he’d hired a manager to travel so he could be home where he was needed.

  Christy slid the spatula under a pancake and quickly turned it over. “Did Santa bring you everything you asked for?”

  Izzie shrugged. “I dunno yet.”

  “What do you mean? All the gifts have been opened, haven’t they?”

  Another shrug. “Yeah, but… you never know when a special gift might show up.”

  Guessing what Izzie had asked for wasn’t difficult. Sick children and their parents might know what lay ahead in the future, but that didn’t stop them from hoping and praying and wishing. Hard. Christy had been there.

  “You know, Izzie, some things are out of Santa’s hands.”

  The child frowned. “You think so? But… he’s magical. And if I’ve learned anything it’s that you have to ask. If you don’t ask, you won’t get what you want. So I asked. Santa knows what I want
. Besides what I asked for can’t be put under the tree.”

  Christy slid a pancake onto the stack she’d already cooked, and as she ladled more batter into the pan, she said, “Miracles do happen, honey. And one might happen for you. I’m just saying that you… you know…”

  She let the rest of the thought fade into oblivion. There was no need to snuff out Izzie’s hope. A quick glance over her shoulder told her that the child’s mind was churning.

  After several minutes, Christy couldn’t take the quiet any longer. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m just thinkin’ about something, is all.” Izzie rinsed a teacup and set it in the dish drainer.

  “You want to talk some more?”

  For several seconds, Izzie remained silent. Just when Christy decided she wasn’t going to confide in her about her thoughts, Izzie asked an unexpected question.

  “Do you have any secrets?”

  Focusing on flipping the remaining pancakes gave Christy time to digest the question. She lifted a shoulder. “Everyone has a secret or two.”

  “I have a secret.”

  Christy turned down the burner on the stove, set the spatula down, and swung around to face Izzie. “Want to tell me?”

  “You tell me your secret first.”

  Laughter bubbled up from Christy’s throat. “Now that’s a challenge if ever I heard one. Okay, let’s see. Hmmm.” She lowered her tone. “I don’t like my name.”

  Izzie looked surprised. “But Christy is a pretty name.”

  “Christy is a nickname. Everyone thinks it’s short for Christine, but it’s not. My parents named me Christmas.” Christy grimaced.

  “Were you born on Christmas?” Izzie’s gaze widened. “Is today your birthday?”

  “No, that’s another reason why my name is so silly. I was born in July.”

  “But that’s summer time.”

  Christy nodded miserably and Izzie giggled. The utter glee on her face made Christy laugh too.

  “Okay, your turn,” Christy said. “Spill.”

  Izzie steeled herself with a deep breath. “Promise not to tell?”

 

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