by Jenny Hale
“Your turn, Leah,” Roz said. “Tell us what you’re grinning about.”
She stood up. “I’m thankful for so many things that it’s hard to say just one. But I suppose I’d say that I’m thankful for Nan. Every Christmas, she brought us together, and here she is, still doing it. I’m so thankful you all are here.”
She turned to David, who was the last to go, and then sat down beside him. He stood up, but his eyes remained on her. “I’m thankful for a lot too. But I’m mostly thankful for seeing Leah again after all these years. And for meeting Sadie.”
There was a silence in the room, his comment clearly taking everyone by surprise. It seemed as if they were all waiting for an explanation.
“Until now, I’ve been completely on my own. I’ve put all my energy into work and starting my business. That was what got me excited. But now something else can get me excited too. I wake up in the morning and I can’t wait to see Leah. Her smile lights up my day.” He held up his glass. “So, a toast,” he said, “to family, and the people we meet along the way.”
Everyone stood up and raised their glasses as they exchanged curious glances.
“Wait,” Leah said, putting her arm around David. “Nan has something she’d like to say.” She pulled the letter out of her pocket and held it up. “She said I couldn’t open it until family Christmas, so I figured I’d read it now.” Leah’s fingers tingled with anticipation as she pulled the familiar lacy paper from its envelope and unfolded it.
She cleared her throat as she read, “‘Dear family,’” she began, the tears rising in her eyes. She took a deep breath and continued. “‘If you are reading this, then I can rest happily because I know that all the people I love have met each other. I may not be with you this Christmas, but if not, it is my sincere hope that you are all together. In different ways, each of you has been part of my life, and now I’d like you to be part of each other’s. Leah, meet David. He’s the kindest person I know. David, meet Leah, she’ll do anything for the people she loves. To the rest of you: support one another and spend time together, because at the end, that’s all you’ll have to take with you—the love. Love each other and everything else will fall into place. Merry Christmas, Nina. P.S. Now go have fun!’”
They all laughed, their eyes glassy as they looked at each other.
Leah was quite emotional, although she was able to keep her composure. As she went to slide the letter back into the envelope, she noticed something else inside. She pulled it out. David took her hand, looking down at her for support. To her complete surprise, it was a photo of her! She had on a navy blue double-breasted coat with white tights and silver-buckled, black patent leather shoes. Her curly blonde hair was pulled back in a clip. She was probably only about five years old. But that wasn’t the most unexpected part.
“What is it?” her mother asked.
Leah looked up briefly but went back to the photo. She was holding hands with a boy, and she knew right away who it was. He was looking down at her, a smile on his face as he walked beside her. Exactly like he was now.
“This was at Christmas,” she said, completely stunned that she remembered such a thing. She’d been so young. “We had a nativity hunt after church. Nan had hidden bible verses about Christmas all over the yard. For every one we found, we got a tiny gingerbread heart cookie. David read all the verses to me.” She turned the photo around for them to see. “That’s me. And David…”
* * *
“Dinner’s ready in the dining room,” Leah said. The Girls had been busy setting the table and getting all the dishes ready for serving while the others mingled in the sitting room. With the help of her friends, Leah had cooked every recipe of Nan’s that she could remember—stuffing, green beans and ham, buttermilk biscuits, sweet potatoes with candied walnuts, butternut squash, and the turkey.
The dining room was spectacular, with an ornamental tray ceiling and an enormous glass chandelier dripping from its center. The floors were dark wood with a cream-colored rug taking up most of the space. Leah and Roz had draped the Georgian dining table with a white linen tablecloth and set a small candelabrum, surrounded by Christmas greenery, in the center, its spruce-colored candles dripping wax while they burned. The white plates shone in the yellow lamplight as everyone awaited the food that Leah and her friends had prepared.
Sadie came in with Jo and Ethan, and Leah told them to pick their seats. She poured them all some sweet tea over ice in short tumbler glasses that matched the larger ones that were going to be used by the adults. As everyone else came in, they seated themselves.
“You’ve outdone yourself, Leah,” Samuel said, scooting in his chair. He placed his napkin in his lap.
Leah finished setting the last of the food in the center of the table and took a seat herself. “Thank you,” she said.
“I think Nina would be quite delighted seeing this—all of us at her table, food cooked with her recipes, sharing this night together. It is such a blessing.” He raised his glass of tea. “Another toast! To Christmas with family,” he said.
“To Christmas!” They all clinked their glasses. The kids raised their tumblers of sweet tea.
The others began to dish their food, passing bowls and plates around the table. As the clinking of spoons and tinkling of dishes filled the air, Leah knew without a doubt that this was where she belonged. The only thing that hadn’t occurred to her until now was that everyone else belonged there too.
* * *
After dinner, Leah insisted that everyone relax and enjoy themselves while she cleaned up dinner. Nan had always done the same. Louise was playing cards with the kids, and Roz and the others were in the sitting room, watching football. June had popped back in and was clearing dishes with her.
“Please don’t feel like you have to help, June. I’ll get it all. I enjoy hosting,” Leah said, piling the plates at one end of the table.
“I actually wanted some time alone with you. To talk.”
“Oh?” She set the last plate down and turned toward her, giving June her undivided attention.
“I shouldn’t have quit my job,” she said. “At the time, I was grieving so much that no one could’ve told me differently. I was exhausted mentally. I wanted to come to Evergreen Hill to get away from everyone. But now that I’ve been here with you all, it’s given me some perspective.” She took a deep breath. “I’ve been talking to David. He doesn’t want to take the house from you and Sadie. He can’t bear it. And I’ve been thinking—I couldn’t handle my job when I was low because I was never truly invested in it. Losing Christine made me feel I had nothing to live for. But Evergreen Hill, this is a place I love. Working here—that would give me a reason to wake up in the mornings.”
Leah’s heart was pounding. Was June about to suggest what Leah suspected?
“I’m still not entirely myself, but I’m getting there. Give me a few months, with something to look forward to, and…” She looked Leah directly in the eye. “How would you feel about running this place together?”
Leah couldn’t breathe.
* * *
“David, may I see you for just a minute?” Leah asked above Roz’s cheering for the East Carolina University football team as they ran twenty yards toward the end zone. Roz gave Samuel a high five.
David stood up.
“Let’s go to the parlor,” she said. He joined her and, together, they walked down the hallway.
The room was dark, the historical memorabilia still pushed against all the walls. She clicked on the chandelier, spilling light onto the shiny floor. She turned toward the empty piano seat, thinking about David and Sadie sitting there last time.
With her back to David, still too worried to get her hopes up, afraid that it was some sort of dream or giant misunderstanding and she’d come crashing down, she said quietly, hearing the hope in her words, “I talked to your mom.” She struggled to say more.
Then, out of nowhere, she felt his strong arms around her, his face at her neck. His brea
th gave her goosebumps down her arm. “What did she say?” he whispered into her ear, clearly knowing the answer. She turned around.
“She said she wants to run the business. With me.” She looked up at his warm eyes, the satisfied smile on his lips, and the complete adoration for her that was written on his face, and she knew that this was right. She could never regret this. “But I thought you didn’t want anyone running a business in your home.”
“I changed my mind,” he said, his hands moving to her waist, his fingers unstill as he caressed her sides. She felt that nervous energy too—as if she were about to explode. “I realized it when I admitted to myself that you and Sadie were the last thing I thought about every night before I went to sleep. What makes you happy, makes me the happiest man in the world.”
He grabbed her sides, her sweater in his fists, as if he’d been trying to control the impulse this whole time and had finally lost the battle. His lips were on hers, urgently, his hands holding on to her tightly, making her woozy. She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him back. When they’d finally slowed and then stopped, he pulled back and looked at her. “Evergreen Hill is not home unless you’re here. Will you stay?”
She couldn’t hide the smile on her face as she said, “Yes. Of course I will.” She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him again. “We have to tell Sadie.”
They went up the old staircase together, like they had so many years ago, but this time holding hands. Sadie was in her bedroom with Jo and Ethan. The room was a complete disaster—coloring books on the floor, her dollhouse items spread out, quilts in piles with baby dolls on them. “You all look like you’ve been having fun!” she said with a laugh. “Sadie, may I see you just a second? David and I want to tell you something.”
Sadie scooped up Lucky from the bed and followed them into Nan’s room, where it was quiet. She stood against the foot of the bed, stroking the kitten.
“I think that kitten is going to need quite a bit of care, and we’re going to have to give it the very best we’ve got.”
Sadie nodded, Lucky purring in her arms. The cat pressed the top of her head against Sadie’s chest, showing its affection, and making Leah smile.
“It’s going to need a lot of trees to climb.”
Sadie nodded again.
“David and I thought the best place to find trees is here, and maybe the three of us might need to live at Evergreen Hill. Together.”
“What?” Sadie’s mouth hung open in surprise as she stroked the cat, remnants of her pink nail polish showing as her fingers moved through the fur.
Leah smiled. “And I’ll take care of Lucky while you’re at those big gymnastics lessons you want to do so badly.” Leah’s smile widened. “Sadie,” she said, finally allowing herself to be as giddy as Sadie looked, “you and I are moving to Evergreen Hill. We’re going to live here with David and June.”
David squatted down beside her. “What do you think about that? Want to live here with me?”
Sadie threw her arm out, wrapping it around David’s neck and leaning against Leah while awkwardly holding the kitten. She yanked David toward them so hard with her embrace that for a moment Leah worried about the kitten. “Careful with Lucky,” she giggled. When she pulled back just a little to give Lucky some breathing room, she noticed tears in Sadie’s eyes and she bent down to be eye level with her.
“Mama, I’m so happy,” she said, looking back and forth between Leah and David. Then, she whispered, “I put Evergreen Hill on my Christmas list. When nothing was working, I thought maybe Nan in Heaven could help Santa give it to me.”
Leah smiled, her own tears brimming. “Maybe she did.”
Chapter 26
Leah was the first to notice it. It led from the bed to the closed door of her bedroom and trailed underneath it. Sadie had been sharing her bed since the rooms were all full, and Leah knew that it hadn’t been there when they’d all gone upstairs early, to give Santa enough time to come. Sadie had just gotten up and hopped down, her Christmas nightgown billowing out around her as she jumped.
“What’s on the floor?” she said, her eyes bright despite having just opened them. Her blonde hair was still in braids from yesterday, and the loose strands had fuzzed up while she’d been sleeping. She bent down and ran her finger through the silver sparkles.
“It’s glitter,” Leah said, curious as to where it had come from. Last night, once Sadie was asleep, she had brought in her Santa gifts from the trunk of her car and displayed them near the fireplace like she always had. Next to the gifts for Jo and Ethan, she’d put out an art set she’d gotten on sale—a little case with markers and stencils. She knew Sadie would love it. She’d opened it up and set some of the pieces out to make it look bigger. Then, she’d put out a new hairbrush and some fancy clips that Sadie had asked for. She’d filled her stocking with candy and set it down on the floor by her gifts. Then, she’d gone to bed. She hadn’t done anything with glitter…
Sadie was already opening the door and she’d barely gotten her bathrobe around her. She shuffled herself into her slippers and tried to catch up, the glitter still going, along the hardwoods of the hallway and cascading down the staircase. Sadie was going down so fast that Leah couldn’t keep up. She rounded the corner at the bottom of the steps as Leah tried to get down the staircase as quickly as she could without waking everyone.
“Oh!” Sadie nearly screamed, her elation so unexpected that Leah knew the glitter wasn’t the only thing in that room. She got to the bottom of the stairs and entered the sitting room, clapping her hand over her mouth.
The art set had been moved, the pieces returned to the box, but it was left open and displayed beside a thick blue gymnastics tumbling mat. Sadie hopped on, doing a cartwheel in her nightgown. To the side of the mat, there was a basket full of cat toys, food, bedding, and a climbing tree for Lucky.
Sadie turned to her mother, the reality of it all settling in. “Did you buy all this?” she asked.
Too stunned to speak, she answered truthfully and shook her head. That was when she saw it for the first time in Sadie’s eyes—magic.
There was a creak in the floorboards and Leah turned to find David. He was leaning against the doorframe, smiling. She didn’t have to ask, to understand that smile. As he locked eyes with her, she knew he’d been responsible for this. She walked past him, nodding for him to join her just out of earshot of Sadie.
“You didn’t have to do this,” she whispered.
“I know,” he was still smiling, so clearly happy. “It’s like Samuel. I don’t have a daughter of my own. And I adore Sadie. She deserves to have an amazing Christmas. You didn’t ask me to do this—no one did. I did it myself. Because I wanted to.”
“Thank you.” She didn’t have a clue how to repay him, but she wanted him to know that she was thankful.
He leaned down and touched his lips to hers. “You’re welcome,” he said against her lips. “Let’s go back in and see Sadie.” He took her hand and they walked in together.
Sadie dug through her stocking. It was fuller than it had been last night. She pulled out candy canes, chocolates, a small stationery set, glitter pens, hair ribbons, rolled-up coloring books, all sorts of things. The stocking covered her entire arm as she plunged her hand in one more time to get the last few treats at the very bottom. She wiggled around, her legs shimmering with glitter from sitting on the floor, and Leah couldn’t imagine a better Christmas.
* * *
When everyone was up and had eaten a quick cinnamon roll while the real breakfast casserole was in the oven cooking, they gathered in the sitting room to open gifts. Sadie was doing a handstand on her new mat while Ethan built with his deluxe Lego set and Jo combed the hair of her brand new, life-size baby doll. Leah reached under the tree and pulled out Roz’s gift, laughing out loud at the packaging. Stretched along the bottom of each of Roz’s gift bags for her and Louise was a pair of lacy Christmas undies with two green bows side by side where the bikini top should b
e. Samuel raised his eyebrows and David laughed out loud. Leah turned it around toward the tree to shield the children.
“I couldn’t resist,” Roz said, holding her coffee with two hands and sitting cross-legged on the sofa. “Let’s do yours first, though! Save mine for later.”
“Okay,” Leah said, shaking her head in amusement and switching gears. She pulled out the one she’d wrapped for Louise. “This one is for you.” She handed Louise the gift she’d wrapped in silver paper, decorated with a dark red ribbon and fresh greenery tucked beneath the bow.
“This is beautiful,” Louise said, pulling delicately at the bow to untie it. She slipped her finger under the flap of paper and unfolded it. She opened the box to reveal the navy-and-tan hand-knitted scarf that Leah had found at a craft show. As soon as she’d seen it, she knew it would go beautifully with Louise’s complexion.
“Oh, I love it!” she said, pulling it out and wrapping it around her neck.
Marie and June both leaned in closer to view it, chattering together about how pretty it was.
“It’s just gorgeous.” Louise got up from the settee and kissed Leah on the cheek. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” Leah said, pleased with herself. “Okay, Roz.” She passed Roz her gift.
Roz took it from her kindly, yanked the ribbon down the box and tore the paper, wadding it all into a little ball and setting it on the table. She opened the box and gasped, staring at it a moment before speaking. “What. Is. This?”
Leah started to laugh uncontrollably as Roz turned the picture frame around for Louise to view it. The others in the room looked on with confusion, David even turning his head to the side, his brows furrowing. Louise threw her head back in laughter.
