by Mary Carter
But now she had to deal with her mother. She could video chat with Carla, but Hope didn’t actually feel like looking at her. She dialed her number instead.
“Yes?” her mother answered on the third ring. Why couldn’t she just say hello like a normal person?
“Hi, Carla.” Even though they had been doing it for years, it still felt weird to call her mother by her first name.
“Hope, sweetheart. I’m off to Cuba for Christmas.”
“I heard.” On Facebook. “I was hoping I could talk you into coming here for Christmas.”
“Next year you girls are coming here and I won’t take no for an answer. Maybe we’ll all go to Cuba.” Suddenly her mother was in love with Cuba. She’d always wanted things she couldn’t have.
Hope took a deep breath. There was no easy way to say this, she was just going to have to come out with it. “Grandma Garland contacted us. She’s dying. We’re going to Leavenworth to spend Christmas with her and we want you to come. In fact, I’m here now.” There was silence on the other end.
“Your father?” The words sounded as if they’d been torn from her mother’s throat.
“I don’t know. Austin—that’s her neighbor—he’s the one who brought me here. He says we’ll have to ask her. And I intend to do just that.”
“You haven’t already?”
“I haven’t met her yet. We just rolled into town. I’m at a pub. I wanted to call you first.”
“Don’t do it. Don’t ruin our Christmas.”
Hope didn’t know what she expected from her mother, but it wasn’t this. How was she the one ruining Christmas? “What?”
“We’ve been doing fine, haven’t we?”
“What if he’s alive?”
“If he’s alive, then he abandoned us. And I want no part of that.”
“And if something happened?”
“Then it’s going to ruin Christmas. For all of us.”
“It’s too late to turn back now. I’m here.”
“I forbid you to see her.”
“You can’t.”
“Do it for me.”
“Mom.” Her mom sniffled. And she didn’t reprimand her with a “Carla.” Hope hated upsetting her. Especially around Christmas. “Join us. Let’s face this together. Maybe it’s actually a gift.” Hope stopped short of saying a Christmas miracle. She couldn’t shake the feeling that her father was guiding them here. At Christmas of all times. That he wanted them to have answers. To have peace. The trauma of losing him was the wound that kept all of them from being close. If they could just heal, then they would have a chance at being a real family.
“A gift?” Her mother sounded furious. “A gift is something you can exchange for cash.”
Hope made a mental note to always give her mother cash from now on. “I’d rather know the truth than spend the rest of my life in the dark. We’ve been without him for the past two decades. I have to know what happened to him and the one person on earth who probably knows is dying.”
“I can’t believe you girls would do this to me.”
“She’s our grandmother.”
“You think she’s going to leave you something?”
“Of course not.” Joy does. Hope kept that to herself.
“That woman is a master manipulator.”
“People change when they’re about to face death. I think she just wants to see us before she passes on.”
“That old witch will live until a hundred, mark my words.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“You did.”
“I just want to be with my mom and my sisters for Christmas.” Hope could feel the tears coming. She didn’t want to cry, but she was suddenly so exhausted.
“Don’t you cry. This is supposed to be my pity party,” Carla said.
Hope sighed. She knew her mother never got over their father breaking her heart. But they’d lost a father. Why didn’t she see it that way? “Merry Christmas. Call us from Cuba. Don’t let Castro change his mind and kidnap you. Bring back cigars.” Hope didn’t want to end things on a bad note. Maybe it was for the best that her mother wasn’t part of this. Maybe her grandmother would open up more if it was just the girls.
“I’ll have a better time if you tell me you’re not going.”
“We’re going. But we’ll have a miserable time. Is that better?”
“Don’t tell me anything. Unless I ask. Promise?”
“I promise.”
“Your sisters are going too?”
“Yes.”
“Well, you finally got what you wanted. Congratulations.”
“That sounds insincere.”
“Are Stephen and the kids coming?”
“The kids are, but I don’t think Stephen is.”
“Did I tell you I suspect Faith and Stephen are having problems?”
Hope sighed. She had told her. Multiple times. “Everyone has problems.”
“Do you think it’s good for your sister to go through this when her marriage is falling apart?”
Hope wasn’t going to take the bait. This wasn’t her fault. She wasn’t responsible for everyone’s problems. “Don’t smoke too many cigars.”
“Fernando says hello. He can’t wait to meet you.”
An image of Carla’s boyfriend, Fernando, commandeering his sailboat flashed through Hope’s mind. He stood at the wheel, looking into the camera with a gap-toothed grin. He was dark skinned and wore a white visor on top of thick black hair, sported mirrored sunglasses, a pot belly, and red swim trunks littered with parrots. He seemed like he was all about fun, fun, fun. Hope prayed he was nice too. Her mother often fell victim to bad boys, her father being the worst of them. Thomas Garland had been young, tatted-up, and had ridden into Carla’s life on a Harley. He’d been wearing a Santa cap too. That might have been adorable, had it not been for the reason for the Santa cap: a holiday pub crawl. Thomas was drunk the first time they met—and driving.
Even so, Hope could only imagine what Thomas would have thought of Fernando and his parrots. “Hi back. Later, Carla.” Her mother had just started to say something else when Hope clicked off. She’d never know for sure she’d been hung up on. It was petty, Hope knew, but sometimes she had to get her jollies, no matter how microscopic.
Hope texted Austin that she was done with her phone calls but added that she wanted to look around the main street a bit before leaving. She stood outside the tavern on Front Street gazing at all the colorful Bavarian shops. The backdrop of the Cascade Mountains was stunning. It was easy to imagine oneself in an old-fashioned German village. The hamlet had been given its new theme in the sixties, a ploy designed to save the town from extinction and bring back tourists. It worked. Leavenworth was a winter wonderland. There was even a nutcracker shop. Nussknacker Haus. As Hope entered the shop, she immediately felt lighter and joyful. The shelves were stacked with nutcrackers from all over the world. Christmas carols played in the background. A shop clerk greeted her enthusiastically.
Hope wanted to buy a pair of nutcrackers—there were so many—such a variety of Christmas themes and craftsmen. What a perfect gift to offer her grandmother upon meeting. They were quite expensive. Perhaps Hope would have to buy something simpler, an ornament perhaps. The shopkeeper must have sensed her dilemma for he soon showed her a tiny discount section where there were two adorable nutcrackers in Santa outfits. They had slight defects, the products of too many tourists handling them, but the markdown was enough that Hope decided to spring for the pair. Maybe she could set them up on either side of the entrance to her grandmother’s house. Hope liked the thought of the nutcrackers being there to greet Joy and Faith when they arrived. Hope was going to get them all into the Christmas spirit, so, whether they liked it or not, here comes slightly damaged nonreturnable nutcrackers. Take that, Faith. Take that, Joy.
She wanted to buy more, and she also wanted to go to the store and get ingredients and supplies to make her famous Christmas sugar cooki
es with buttercream icing—isn’t that something you do with a grandmother and your lovely sisters at Christmas? But it was probably best to wait until a little later. Tucking a nutcracker under each arm, and gazing once more up and down the quaint street, positively glowing with lights and cheer, she called Austin and told him she was ready. She couldn’t wait to explore this adorable town further. But now she was ready to meet her grandmother. A ripple of excitement hit her. This was the quintessential place to spend Christmas. Magic was in the air. She had a very strong feeling that this year was going to be life changing. And she, for one, couldn’t wait for it to change.
* * *
Austin’s pickup rambled up, and Hope peered into the cab. The slobbery face of the dog greeted her, and he eyed the nutcrackers like they were juicy bones. “Not for you,” Hope said. Austin got out of the truck, which was rather gentlemanly of him, and although he reached to take the nutcrackers out of her arms, he looked alarmed.
“What’s this?”
“Aren’t they adorable?”
Austin pointed. “This one has a chip on its nose—”
“At least it’s not its shoulder,” Hope interrupted.
“And this one—”
Hope swatted his finger away. “They were marked down.”
“The island of misfit nutcrackers?” Austin joked.
“Something like that. I thought we’d surprise my grandmother. We can prop these babies up on either side of her front door.”
Austin held a nutcracker under each arm and glanced back at the store. “I think we should return them.”
“Why? Because they aren’t perfect?”
“Of course not.”
“I love them.”
“There’s something I forgot to tell you.”
He looked so handsome. And serious. “What?”
“Your grandmother doesn’t want to celebrate Christmas.”
“That’s because she was dying alone. She has us now.”
“No, she really doesn’t want to celebrate. I was supposed to tell you. I didn’t know you were going to buy these.”
Hope grabbed the nutcrackers back and placed them in the cab of his truck. “I’m keeping them,” she said. “You told me. Mission accomplished. Now let me deal with Christmas and my grandmother.”
Austin still looked worried, but he nodded. Hope gently shoved the dog out of the way as she got in the cab. “Move over, Mr. Jingles.”
“Mr. Jingles?” Austin said.
“It just came to me.” If Yvette didn’t like Christmas, she was going to have to say so herself.
Austin patted the top of the dog’s gigantic head. “Mr. Jingles,” he repeated. “Suits him.”
“Do you like Christmas?” Hope asked Austin as the truck pulled out, cruised down Front Street, then took a left at the end and began heading uphill.
He glanced at her for a second and then kept his eyes on the road. “No,” he said softly.
“Why not?”
“I think it puts an extraordinary amount of stress on people.”
“Oh.” He sounded pained. “I take it you’re not close to your family?”
“Not anymore.”
There was definitely a story there, but Hope wasn’t going to push for it. This was the opposite of the happy Facebook front. This was real life. Imperfect, frustrating, beautiful, real life. “I’m sorry.”
“You’re pretty much in the same boat, aren’t you?” Now there was a defensive edge to his voice. Austin Rhodes did not like talking about himself.
“I agree that for a lot of people Christmas can be lonely, or way too stressful. But it doesn’t have to be that way,” Hope said.
“Society makes it that way by putting so much pressure on the holiday,” Austin said. “Capitalism at its finest.”
“It’s not supposed to be like that.”
“But it is. You can’t deny it.”
Hope didn’t want to argue about politics, or religion, or economic greed. She just wanted to enjoy the season. “Look at this place. It’s a winter wonderland. Can’t people just truly enjoy connecting with nature, and loved ones? Did you ever consider it’s just as simple as that?”
“Says the woman who just dropped a ton of money on a pair of overpriced nutcrackers for a woman who doesn’t even want them.”
“They were on clearance. This one has a bite taken out of his jolly nose, and the other one is missing a finger. One guess which finger it is.”
Austin threw his head back and laughed. The sound of it warmed Hope. Soon the truck was nearing the end of the road. Ahead of them was a private drive. The road turned from pavement to dirt. Trees hugged the entrance.
“Life is what happens when you’re busy expecting something else,” Hope said softly, taking in the enormous estate barely visible behind an iron gate.
“Good one,” Austin said. “Who said that?”
“Santa’s elves,” Hope said.
Austin smiled. “Who knew?”
“I’m sure they had to learn that the hard way.”
“Not easy pleasing kids all over the world,” Austin added.
“It’s a thankless job.”
Austin stopped the truck before the gate and turned to study her. “You’re certainly not what I expected.”
Hope didn’t ask him to clarify. She was too busy gaping at the estate. “Are you taking me to a ski lodge for lunch before you take me to my grandmother’s?”
“No,” Austin said.
“This is her place?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
It was enormous. And postcard-perfect. And dripping with wealth. “Oh, holy night,” Hope said. Her sisters were going to freak. And then Joy was going to smell money. And then they were going to freak out. For a split second Hope wanted to whisk her grandmother out of the enormous log house she could glimpse just beyond the gate and take her somewhere less enticing. Let Joy and Faith get to know her without distractions.
“Are you ready?” Austin said.
“Not at all,” Hope answered. “Not at all.”
CHAPTER 11
The truck idled in front of a massive iron security gate. Austin leaned out and pushed the code into a numeric keyboard hidden on a pole.
“A fortress? Out here?”
“Neighbor kids would come in and try to skate on the pond.”
“Is that so bad?”
“It is if they fall through and no one is around.”
“Ah.” And that was the downside of life. Everything that could bring a bit of happiness was also a risk. She couldn’t believe her grandmother lived here. Why wouldn’t her father be here too? He’s not alive. Otherwise wouldn’t he be here? Or had they had a falling out? Maybe money wasn’t important to him. What was important to him? If he was alive, then certainly not his own daughters. Was their grandmother as furious as they were? How could a woman who lived in a winter wonderland not want to celebrate Christmas?
“I can’t wait to meet her,” Hope said as the gate swung open and Austin pulled in. He gave her a look that was easy to interpret: Be careful what you wish for. Just ahead of them was a massive log house, almost a mini ski lodge with green shutters and a wraparound porch. The land surrounding it seemed to go on forever in all directions.
“It’s huge,” Hope said.
“Twenty acres,” Austin said.
“My God.” The mountains rose and fell in the distance, snow covering their peaks. Hope could imagine what an astonishing sight it was to see the entire place covered in a blanket of snow. “Do you think it will snow for Christmas?”
“Sooner than that. It’s supposed to be one of the snowiest winters on record. We’ve already had several big snowfalls.”
“It must be breathtaking covered in snow.”
“It’s always breathtaking.”
“Where’s the pond?”
“Out back a ways.”
“And you can skate on it?”
His eyes flashed on her, and she watched him register the f
act that she liked to ice skate. It had been so long since a man had paid such close attention to her. “Skate in the winter, swim in the summer. As ponds go, it’s gigantic.”
Hope scanned the windows for her grandmother but couldn’t make anyone out. “I imagined her standing on the porch, eager to greet me.”
“She’s taking a rest. In fact, I’m going to show you around the grounds first.”
“Oh.” That was slightly disappointing. She really couldn’t wait to meet her. Would she see any family resemblance? Would she feel familiar? Oh, why had she waited this long to get in touch? Until there wasn’t much time left. It wasn’t fair.
Hope opened the door to the truck and Mr. Jingles jumped out. Before she could even consider putting a leash on him, he leapt forward, then tore off across the lawn. “Oh no. Mr. Jingles. Mr. Jingles!”
“He’ll be all right. This has to be a dog’s idea of heaven.”
Hope spread her arms and breathed in the crisp mountain air. “This has to be everybody’s idea of heaven.”
“You’d be surprised,” Austin said as Hope reached for her bag. He gently put his hand out to stop her. “Yvette said Roger would bring your things in.”
Hope scanned the area as if expecting a bellboy to materialize out of thin air. She wouldn’t have been surprised given that the house did resemble a boutique hotel. When nobody appeared she turned back to Austin. “Who’s Roger?”
“He’s the caretaker, I guess you would say. Lives in a cabin out back and helps Yvette with odds and ends.”
“That’s nice.” A funny look came over Austin’s face. “Isn’t it?”
