Gracie burst into laughter. “You sound like his daughter. He’s a wonderful man, Faith, and I promise to introduce him next time you’re home.”
“Is this an announcement?”
Gracie sobered, considering. Faithie seemed to be turning out okay, after all, and maybe thirty wasn’t too old to be a mother. “Not at this point, but I’ll keep you posted. How soon do you need to pay your fees?”
“As soon as possible, so the classes don’t fill up. I have a new friend, Brad, who owns the dry cleaners next to the flower shop. I could ask him to drive me to your place this evening, if that’s okay. Both shops close at six.”
Another man friend, already.
“Remember the question I asked about me being complicated? Brad’s had some psychology classes, and with his help, I think I’ve figured it out. Mom and Pop didn’t love one another, so their life was miserable. You know how they never kissed or hugged. Well, I wanted love in my life, so I searched for it hard. Too hard. But it’s worse to have the wrong person in your life than to have no one at all.”
Faith thought Mom and Pop were unhappy because they didn’t love one another. Hope thought their problem was poverty. Gracie felt certain having kids at a late age ruined Mom and Pop’s lives. Were she and her sisters like the blind men who had different perceptions of an elephant? Each right from where they stood, but none of them grasping the whole picture? That fable had always intrigued Gracie, but never as much as now.
“Makes sense, don’t you think?” Faith prompted.
Gracie was still reeling from the influence the perceptions, or misperceptions, had played in each of their lives. Faith seeking love in all the wrong places. Hope and Gracie not having kids. But it wasn’t too late. Faith and Hope were making up for lost time, and so could she. Gracie smiled into the mouthpiece of the phone. If Faithie’s friend owned a dry cleaners, he must have his head on straight. And if he didn’t, she did. “I’ll fix dinner for you and Brad, if you like.”
“You’re on. A shoestring budget doesn’t lend itself to great eating.”
“I could…” She’d been going to say, give you a little money. But Faith wanted to stand on her own feet, and it was time to let go. Gracie had influenced her sister in a positive way. Faith said so herself. All the years she’d never said ‘thank you,’ and all the years Gracie’s spent worrying floated gently away.
“Gracie?” Faith paused, and her voice became husky. “I love you.”
Faith hung up quickly, and Grace bawled like a baby; a very happy, proud, totally astounded baby. Or a woman who might at last become the mother of one.
When she finished, she called Dr. Hiram. “I have to know something.” She explained that she and her sisters all had different perceptions about the lack of attention they received.
“I thought you knew, Grace. Your mother’s depression was clinical. It didn’t help that your father came from a strict, almost abusive background. So he wouldn’t let your mother visit her parents, who were kind and warm. She loved your daddy, though, and I think she married, expecting to help him. But she couldn’t. Help him or you girls. Or herself. I couldn’t help her, either. I tried.”
So it wasn’t age, or poverty, or lack of love between them. After the holidays, the Singleton girls would get together, and Gracie would share the answer to their enigma. Now was a time for happiness and bright lights and joy. Faithie and Hope were okay, and so was Gracie.
* * *
Christmas Eve. Smiling, Gracie stirred the bread crumbs into the celery and onion she was sautéing. Pouring in some turkey broth, she seasoned the stuffing mixture, and the savory smell of sage filled the room. Merett, who was readying the turkey, opened his mouth for a bite. She gave him a forkful, and he smacked his lips.
“I want a bite, too.” Kirsten was washing grapes for Waldorf salad, standing on a stool at the kitchen sink with an apron tied around her. “This is fun. I like us cooking together.”
“Me too,” Merett said, giving Gracie a tender smile, as she fed Kirsten a forkful of the mixture. “And talk about fun…”
He couldn’t wait to give her Dumbbell. Gracie could see the excitement in his eyes as he began to stuff the bird.
“What, Daddy?” Kirsten abandoned her job to tug on his sleeve.
Merett’s dimple flashed, and his eyes sparkled. “We have a present for you. It’s a Christmas present, but it’s kind of big, so we want to give it to you today.”
Gracie, relishing the word “we,” smiled.
Kirsten jumped up and down. The soft-soled sneakers Merett brought her from New York barely made a sound. “I can’t wait. I can’t wait.”
“Five minutes,” he said. “Give me five minutes to get this turkey ready.”
“Hurry, Daddy,” Kirsten pleaded. Spooning in the last bit of dressing, Merett laced the turkey shut, and slid the bird into the oven. Kirsten jumped up and down. “Now, you can get my present, and I’ll wait under the tree.”
The dog was out back, and would be snowy, but Gracie laughed and shrugged. “I’ll wait in the parlor with her.”
“Why did you put Spook in the bathroom?” Kirsten asked, as she and Gracie sat down beneath the tree.
Dumbbell bounded into the parlor, tail wagging, big feet clumping, and barker in perfect working order. He ran around in circles like he was chasing his tail, before bounding up to Kirsten, and planting his two front paws in her lap. Thrown off balance, the already surprised child looked amazed to find herself on the floor, gazing up into a big mouth with a dangling pink tongue.
“Wow,” she breathed.
Dumbbell kissed her thoroughly.
“That tickles.” Kirsten giggled and giggled. Fighting her way to a sitting position at last, she threw her arm around the shaggy dog’s neck. “Is he really mine?”
“Really and truly,” Merett said, and Gracie nodded.
“What’s his name?”
“Dumbbell,” Merett said.
Kirsten’s mouth fell open. “I can’t help it if I don’t know his name.”
Her daddy laughed so hard he had to motion Gracie to explain. “Dumbbell is the dog’s name, but you can change it.”
“I’m going to call him Jingle Bell,” Kirsten announced. “He’ll still hear the ‘bell’ part, and know it’s his name, but the jingle is much kinder, and besides, it’s Christmas Eve.” She planted a big kiss on the dog’s head and he kissed her in return. Wiping her face, she grinned. “Now, Daddy, give Gracie her early gift.”
“I get an early present, too?” Gracie laid her hand on her chest. “Moi?”
“Yes,” Merett said, laughing. “I’ll just be a minute.” He made a quick trip to the Jeep, and came back with a gift-wrapped box. “For you,” he said, kissing Gracie’s cheek.
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Kirsten’s surprised expression, and blushing, ducked her head. But Gracie’s embarrassment was quickly forgotten in the excitement of opening her gift. “My first Christmas present of the season,” she said, laying aside the red bow. She carefully removed the brightly striped paper, and folded it neatly. It was too pretty to throw away, and could be used again. Opening the box slowly, she savored the anticipation. She hadn’t received many gifts in her life, and this one, from the man she loved, was special.
“Hurry,” Kirsten urged, and Merett chuckled.
Gracie licked her lips, took a deep breath, and laid the tissue aside. “Oh,” she breathed, as she uncovered a ceramic tree topper with an angel painted on it. “It’s perfect, and as nearly as I can remember after so many years, just like the broken one.” Impetuously, Gracie wiggled across the floor to wind her arms around him. “You’re thoughtful and kind and wonderful. Thank you.”
Kirsten giggled. “I think you two are getting to be more than friends.”
Gracie set the topper down and crawled across the floor fast to hug and tickle her. “You were in on my surprise, weren’t you?”
Kirsten giggled until Gracie stopped, then slid her arms ar
ound her neck. “Did Daddy tell you the good news? We’re never going to move back to New York. I’m glad, aren’t you?”
“Very glad,” Gracie said, hugging her.
Merett gathered them both into his embrace. “Do you mind if we are more than friends?” he asked his daughter.
“Why would I?” She stared at him in surprise. “It was my idea in the first place.”
* * *
The rest of the day passed in a happy blur. Merett had asked Marianne Heber about the family that lived in the Singletons’ old house. The girl Gracie had seen was twelve, and she had a six-year-old brother. The mother and father were both laid off from the large factory that bought out the small one where Gracie’s father used to work.
While the turkey baked, Merett, Kirsten, and Gracie shopped for gifts for the family. Merett’s eyes shone, as he picked out trucks and cars and sports equipment for the boy. Watching him, Gracie’s slowly-growing decision took form. Even at the ripe old age of almost thirty, she was exuberant with plenty of love to give. If Merett wanted to marry her, she’d love to give him a son. And if it was a girl, well, they both loved Merry Grace. And there might even be time enough for them to try again.
She hadn’t told him yet what Faith said that changed her mind. Like a precious present, she’d been hugging her sister’s loving words and appreciation close to her heart.
Merett caught her eye occasionally, and smiled, as she shopped for the girl and the parents. Kirsten ran back and forth between her Daddy and Gracie, helping them both, while worrying whether Jingle Bell missed her.
After buying ornaments and picking up a tree at Will Heber’s, they drove back to Gracie’s where they wrapped gifts. Kirsten played with the dog and cat, switching off until she discovered they could get along by respectfully ignoring one another. Merett had brought wicker baskets and hampers, and near dusk, they loaded the Jeep.
On the way across town to the house where the Singletons once lived, Gracie told Kirsten about that Christmas Eve fifteen years ago. When she’d heard the story, Kirsten leaned forward in her seat belt to touch her father’s shoulder. “You have a really nice family, Daddy.”
“I do indeed,” Merett said, flashing her a dimpled smile as he laid his hand on Gracie’s knee.
On the way home, Kirsten sighed. “Those kids were sure happy. The mom, too, and the dad almost cried. Is that how your family felt when Gramma and Grampa and Daddy came to your house, Gracie?”
“Yes,” she said softly. “That’s exactly how we felt.”
Merett turned the corner and slowed down. He was driving by their churches, his on one side of the street, and hers on the other. Church bells were ringing and the sidewalks were filled with churchgoers wrapped up against the winter weather. Candles glowed in the windows and wreaths hung on the doors.
“My place or yours?” Merett asked Gracie.
“You mean...we’re going to Christmas Eve services?”
“You wouldn’t want to miss them, would you?” She scooted across the seat to kiss him. “That’s what I thought.” He grinned. “It’s about time I started going again.”
“I don’t care which church you choose, as long as we’re together.”
“Grampa’s taken me to our church before. Let’s go to Gracie’s,” Kirsten piped up, and they all agreed.
Gracie was so proud to enter the church with Merett and Kirsten Bradmoore, she prayed the Lord would forgive her for her lack of humility, and thanked him for the blessings he’d reigned upon her.
“Mama used to make grilled cheese sandwiches, and fix canned tomato soup on Christmas Eve,” Merett said wistfully, as they reentered Gracie’s house. “It was an easy supper to prepare after a busy day.”
After they ate, Kirsten yawned. “It’s nine o’clock. Time for me to go to bed.”
Merett looked shocked. “It’s Santa Eve,” Gracie reminded him, and he laughed at himself for forgetting.
“I’ll be back,” he whispered in Gracie’s ear, as he left to take his daughter home to bed.
Gracie, shutting the door behind them, smiled. It had been a perfect day, and now it was going to come to a perfect close.
* * *
Merett tucked Kirsten in bed, the diamond ring in his pocket, and drove back to Gracie’s house. It was Christmas Eve, and snow was drifting gently to earth. “Silent night, holy night…” The carol on the radio described the peace of the night perfectly.
A tree glowed in Gracie’s parlor window, and another in the bay window upstairs. His breath formed tiny wreaths in the cold air, and his feet crunched crisply on the snow. Merett tightened his hand on the small box in his pocket. What would he do if she said no? What if she turned him down and refused to be his wife?
Standing on the top step in front of the old Larraby home, Merett looked up at the thousands of tiny stars twinkling in the sky. She loved him. She’d watched him make over Merry Grace, an unreadable expression on her face, and she’d made over the baby, too, but refused to hold her. If Gracie turned him down, it would be for one reason. And in that case, there was only one thing to do.
Gracie opened the door and walked into his arms. “I missed you.”
“I’ve only been gone an hour,” he teased, before slanting his mouth over hers.
She tugged at his coat while seeking his lips for another kiss. “Take it off.”
“Stand still and let me look at you.” She complied, a shy smile on her face. She wore a soft blue velvet robe with the zipper just low enough to expose a vee of creamy skin and an edging of ecru lace. Her feet were bare, and her hair hung loose in a cascade of golden curls. She was the most beautiful woman in the world, bar none. Turning his back to take off his coat, he performed a sleight of hand, slipping the jewelry box into his blazer pocket.
“I have a bottle of wine.” Gracie’s lips were parted, her cheeks bright, and her violet eyes glowing. She didn’t look like a woman that was about to say ‘no’ to marriage. “The realtor gave it to me when I bought the house.”
Merett followed her to the kitchen, where she set out two stemmed glasses, and handed him a corkscrew. “Dom Perignon, no less.”
“Not just any old wine is befitting of a woman who buys a house with a ghost.”
Gracie’s smile was slow and lazy, her stance against the counter casually seductive. Merett looked out the window. He wanted to whisk her off to bed, but not yet. Across the yards, her neighbors stood in the middle of the kitchen, kissing. Looking back at Gracie, he longed to draw her into his arms. Now.
“What shall we toast?” Gracie asked, touching his arm.
He felt himself harden, and wondered if the ring could wait. Brushing a stray curl from her cheek, he kissed the spot where it had lain. He kissed the tip of her pert nose. He touched her satiny skin just about the ecru lace. She gasped, and gently pushed him away. “The toast,” she said, raising the glass he’d filled.
Smiling, he took her glass away and set it on the counter. She sighed her impatience. “The toast,” she repeated.
“We need to do something first.”
She laid her hand over her the spot he’d kissed. “Our wine will get warm.”
Merett chuckled and took her hand. “This won’t take long.”
“Well, I’m not sure I like that!” she protested as he led her down the hall. And when he turned into the parlor, she gasped. “Under the Christmas tree?”
“Where else?” He could barely contain his laughter.
Grace’s blush worked its way quickly from the tantalizing dip between her breasts to the roots of her beautiful hair. “In bed?” Her voice was timid.
The laughter spilled from his lips as he dropped to his knees. “That’s not where I usually hand out Christmas presents.”
Her blush deepened, and she sank down beside him, clutching her robe shut. “Presents? Is that what this is all about?”
Quickly sobering, he remembered what this was all about. “I love you,” he said, taking her hand in his. The lines of h
er face relaxed into a tender smile, and he laid the tiny gold-wrapped package in her hand. “Merry Christmas, Sweetheart.”
Her slender fingers flew; her breath came fast. He smiled at her eagerness as she tore the paper and tossed it aside. The velvet box tumbled free, into her hands, and she looked up at him. He nodded, and she opened it, and stared at the diamond inside.
“Gracie, I want you to be my wife.”
Her lip trembled.
“I know how you feel about having children, and it’s all right. I have Kirsten, and she’s enough, as long as I have you. She is okay, isn’t she? I mean, you can accept her? She has to be part of the package.”
“Merett.” Gracie threw her arms around his neck. “You dear sweet man.”
“Does that mean yes?” She was smothering him with kisses, but he had to hear her say it.
“Yes. Yes, yes, yes!”
He slowly slipped the ring on her finger. She took a deep breath, and looked up at him through thick golden lashes. He kissed her, but the kiss was short because she wanted to talk.
“Kirsten is fine, I adore her.”
“Good,” he said, and tried to kiss Gracie again.
She held him away. “And Merett?”
Something in her tone stopped him. “Yes?”
“I want to have your baby.”
His eyes filled with tears. “Are you sure?”
“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. But thank you, darling, for offering to make such a sacrifice.”
Laughing and crying together, they kissed and kissed, and then Merett made a toast. “To us,” he said. “And a New Year’s Eve wedding.”
“To us.” Gracie touched her glass to Merett’s. “And to holidays and heroes and optimism.”
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