Coming Home for Christmas

by Fern Michaels

  “Ah. Am I to assume, sir, that things have progressed, and we are no longer in jeopardy?”

  Hank blinked. The guy could talk in code, but he got it. “Yes, it’s safe to assume that, Mason. By any chance, do you have any coffee made?”

  “No, but I will be more than happy to prepare some. I just baked some brownies.”

  “I love brownies,” Amy said. Mason beamed. The man does love compliments, Hank thought.

  “We’re going to set the tree up in the living room. Unless you have a better idea, Mason?”

  “No, the living room will be fine. I think it best so the boys won’t be tempted to play with the ornaments. And, of course, the animals have to be taken into consideration. I understand via the Internet that male dogs and trees are not compatible. I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me for anything.”

  “That means we’re dismissed,” Hank whispered in Amy’s ear.

  The twins toddled over to the gate. Hank bent down and picked them both up. They giggled and laughed as they yanked at his hair and pulled at his nose. “I can’t tell them apart,” he confessed. “Come on now, give me a big kiss. Ohhh, that was sooo good. Give me another one.” The boys obliged, and then they were done with the bonding and wanted down on the floor.

  “I can see how they would be a handful,” Amy said. “They’re sweet as honey, and they both look just like Ben.”

  They watched for another minute or so as the boys rough-and-tumbled with the dogs, who were happy to play.

  “Let’s get to it, Mandy. We have a Christmas tree to put up.” The doorbell rang and Amy opened it. “Oh, look, our poinsettias are here. I’ll set them out while you bring in the tree. By the way, do you know where Alice keeps the decorations? You said she was big on decorating the house. We need to do that, too.”

  “Probably in the attic. I’ll get them down as soon as we set up the tree. Just let me know when the coffee is ready.”

  It was four o’clock when Mason and the twins oohed and aahed over the couple’s Christmas decorations. The tree was up, and it bathed the house in what Amy called a delicious balsam scent. She said she could smell it on the second floor. Poinsettias lined the stairway and were nestled in all the corners. The foyer held a small artificial tree, decorated with colored lights and tiny gossamer angels dangling from the branches. Amy surmised it had a special memory for Alice because of the care that had been taken when it was packed away. Fat ceramic Santas sat at each side of the door. Thick red candles were placed on each end of the mantel along with branches of live greenery that Hank cut off the bottom of the tree. Amy stuck bright red bows in and among the branches and dangled a few strands of tinsel. “Very festive,” Hank said, taking Amy’s arm in his. “Just think, next year we can do this in our own house.” Amy just smiled. And smiled.

  The twins gibbered and giggled as they pointed to the giant-size Santa standing next to the fireplace, his backpack loaded with colored boxes with bright red ribbons. Churchill sniffed it out. His intentions seemed obvious to all of them until Mason cleared his throat in warning. The golden dog lowered his leg and backed away, his tail between his legs.

  “Good dog,” Mason said as he handed out treats again, then opened the back door. Both dogs ran outside as the twins went back to pushing and shoving each other.

  “No, no, no! We do not push, and we do not shove,” Mason said as he wagged his finger at the boys. One of the boys, Hank wasn’t sure which one, stomped his foot and started to cry.

  “Sit down and fold your hands, young man. We do not slap and pinch our brother.” The toddler sat down and folded his hands. He sniffed, but he stopped crying. Mason handed out raisins in small cups, and the boys were happy again.

  “That guy needs to be cloned,” Hank said.

  Amy looked around. “I don’t think there’s anything left to do here. I think I’m going to go home and take a shower. You want to come over for dinner?”

  Hank grimaced. “That depends on Mason. I think he might want to go home early. Why don’t you come over here? I’m sure we can find something to eat here. In fact, I know we can. He’s cooking something that smells pretty darn good, and there are those brownies we bypassed when we had our coffee.”

  “Okay, if that’s an invitation, I accept. We can put my tree up tomorrow. I’ll cut the netting off and lean it up against the house. See you later.”

  Hank kissed her good-bye. He watched from the doorway until she was safely in her own house. God, I am so happy.

  “It would appear you are in love again. Is that a clear assessment, Mr. Anders?”

  “On the money, Mason. I asked her to marry me, and she said yes.”

  “You do . . . work fast. She’s quite lovely. It would appear she returns your feelings. Is there any news on Mrs. Anders?”

  “No, I’m afraid not. I’m sure she’ll be back soon. God, I hope she comes back soon. The boys seem so happy. It bothers me. Don’t they miss her?”

  “Of course they miss her. They keep looking around for her. They whimper and suck their thumbs, but they can’t talk, so you just have to figure it out for yourself. No one can take a mother’s place. No one.” This last was said with such vehemence that Hank winced.

  What Mason said was true, Hank thought. It also explained Mandy’s return and her search for yesterday.

  Hank let loose with a long sigh. Thank God he had decided to come back to Apple Valley for the holidays. In doing so he was going to be able to help Alice in both the short and long term, and just by being here, he’d fallen in love all over again. If anyone could help Mandy lay her old ghosts to rest, it was him. He crossed his fingers hoping he was right.

  Chapter Eight

  Alice Anders paced the narrow confines of her friend’s tiny apartment. Tears rolled down her cheeks. Am I out of my mind? No sane person would do what I’ve done. No sane person would abandon her home, her children, and her husband’s dog. Even if Ben was a perfect dad, she’d fallen down on her job and screwed up big-time. That was the bottom line.

  She looked down at the tabby cat circling her feet. Chloe was her name. She picked her up and cuddled her against her neck. This little animal didn’t mess in the house, she had her own private sanitation boxes in the tiny laundry room and in the bathroom. She didn’t make mistakes. And she cleaned herself religiously, unlike Churchill, who messed all over and rolled in mud whenever he felt like it. Giving him a bath always clogged the bathtub drain and then it was eighty-five dollars to get it unclogged. Her budget, stringent as it was, had ceased to exist months and months ago. Her credit cards were maxed out. She lived day to day.

  She’d wigged out. How cool was that? More tears flowed. Ben was going to pitch a fit when Hank told him what she’d done. Chloe licked at her tears. God, how she ached to hold her sons.

  Coming here to her friend’s small apartment had seemed like the answer to all her problems. She’d gotten the idea when her best friend in Apple Valley, a first-grade teacher named Marie, had said she was going home to Seattle for the holidays. She’d given her the key and asked her to check on Chloe from time to time.

  Her intention was to veg out, to fall back and regroup. To take bubble baths, to eat when and if she felt like it, to drink wine while she was soaking in a tub, and to sleep peacefully through the night with no interruptions. It hadn’t happened that way at all. She was lucky if she slept two hours a night, and what sleep she got was fitful. There was no bathtub to luxuriate in, only a stall shower. She didn’t have money for wine, and Marie didn’t have cable television. She, too, lived on a budget.

  The only thing she proved to herself was that she was an unfit mother. A slacker as a wife. She wasn’t Supermom, and she never would be. That title would have to go to someone else, someone a lot more worthy than she.

  Did the twins miss her? Probably not. Churchill hated her, so there was no point in even asking herself if the big golden retriever missed her. He probably hoped she never came back. The tears flowed again. She looked like a
witch with the dark circles under her eyes. Her hair needed to be cut and styled.

  Alice’s wild pacing led her to the bathroom and the huge mirror on the back of the door. Well, if nothing else, she’d shed a few pounds.

  What did Hank think about what she’d done? How was he coping? She wished she knew what he’d told Ben. Ben was going to be so disappointed in her.

  Alice splashed cold water on her face, combed her hair, smoothed down the sweat suit she’d arrived in, and tidied the apartment. She made sure Chloe had bowls of food and water not only in the bathroom but the kitchenette, too. She cleaned the two litter boxes and put in fresh litter. She set the thermostat to seventy and sat down to drink her fifth cup of coffee. She didn’t need this fifth cup of coffee. She was killing time, and she knew it. She’d made a mess of things, and now it was time to stand up and take the blame for what she’d done. She started to cry again. Like tears were really going to help her out.

  It was totally dark now. Christmas Eve. It had always been the happiest time of the year, at least for her. Ben, too. How often they talked about how perfect life was here in Apple Valley. Especially at Christmastime. And she’d ruined it all. Her. No one else. She’d single-handedly ruined everything for everyone with her stupid actions. How in the name of God was she ever going to make this right?

  By going home, a voice inside her head whispered, You go back, you stand tall, you apologize and get your life back. After . . . after she hugged and kissed her two little boys. She had to apologize to them, too, not that they would understand, but she’d do it anyway.

  Still, she didn’t move. Because . . . because she was a coward.

  Alice stood up, drained her coffee, then washed out the cup and cleaned the coffeepot. She took one last look around the tiny apartment, checked on Chloe one last time by giving her a hug before she settled her in her little bed next to the sofa. She turned out all the lights, put on her heavy down jacket, and left the apartment.

  Outside, Alice hunkered into her jacket as she made the long trek back to her house. There was little traffic, the citizenry of Apple Valley were secure in their houses, building fires, having dinner, and getting ready for the big man in the red suit.

  It was bitter cold, and the tears escaping her eyes were freezing on her eyelashes. She barely noticed as she trudged along. She had to walk along the roadside because of the piled-up snow. Her sneakers were cold and wet. She’d never been more miserable in her entire life.

  When she reached her neighborhood, Alice climbed over the banks of piled-up snow onto the shoveled sidewalk. How pretty it all looked, with the snow on the evergreens and the colored lights on the houses and in the trees.

  Christmas in Apple Valley.

  Soon the church choir would be out caroling. She and Ben always went caroling since they belonged to the choir. She’d had to give it up when the boys came along. She’d had to give up everything when the boys came along. Even Ben. She knew the thought was unfair. She’d known what it meant to marry a military man when she agreed to marry Ben. She had no one to blame for her circumstances except herself.

  Alice rounded the corner to her street and stopped short when she noticed the crowds of people at Albert Carpenter’s house. Then she smiled when she saw the front porch that was decorated to the nines. For sure the Apple Valley prize would go to this piece of property. How sad that Albert would never know how loved he was.

  It looked to Alice like everyone had brought something to add to the decorations someone had been kind enough to set up. The tree was magnificent, with its twinkling lights. The boys would love the reindeer and the sleigh packed with gaily colored packages. Small statues lined the steps. Santas, elves, ceramic Christmas trees. Gossamer angels trailing red ribbons dangled on wires from the beams on the porch.

  At first glance it all looked cluttered until you saw the homemade drawings, the cards tacked to the pillars that held up the porch. And then your second glance said it was the most beautiful sight in the world.

  Alice tried to swallow past the lump in her throat. She just knew she was the only person in town who had not left something on that wide, wonderful front porch. Well, she would have to remedy that as soon as she could. Not because Ben would never forgive her if she didn’t, but because she wanted to. No, that was wrong, she needed to do it.

  Alice wondered if there was anyone in the whole world who understood what she had been going through with the exception of Albert Carpenter. She’d poured out her heart to him so many times these past months. For his comfort she’d knocked herself out trying to take care of him—she cooked for him, cleaned his house, shopped for him, and did his laundry. Not that there weren’t others who would have helped, but she hadn’t asked. She’d wanted to do it because he was like a wise old grandfather, and he dearly loved Ben and Hank and a little girl named Mandy Leigh. No, she was not Supermom or super anything. She was just plain old Alice Avery Anders. Triple A Alice, as Ben called her from time to time.

  Alice moved on, and soon enough she was standing at her own front door. She turned the knob, but the door was locked from the inside. How stupid. She’d given Hank her keys. She rang the bell. The door opened. All she could do was stand there with tears in her eyes. Hank stretched out his arms, and she stepped into them. “Oh, Hank, I’m so . . .”

  “Shhh. You don’t need to apologize for anything. I’m just so damn glad that you’re home. God, I can’t tell you how glad I am. Come in, come in, it’s freezing out there.”

  Alice stepped back and stared up at her brother-in-law. “I . . . need . . .”

  Hank placed his index finger against Alice’s lips. “No, you don’t need to do anything but love those kids of yours. They’re in the family room waiting for you.”

  Alice shrugged out of her jacket and ran to the family room. Like Hank, she vaulted over the gate and gathered up her twin boys, holding them close. Churchill and Miss Sadie vied for her attention. “Oh, God, I forgot about Miss Sadie. C’mere, you little bundle of love.”

  Hank backed away and bumped into Mason, who was wiping the corners of his eyes. “It would appear the lady of the house has returned. What would you suggest I do, Mr. Anders?”

  “Well, after I introduce you to your new employer, you might want to go home to your own family and enjoy Christmas.”

  “Unfortunately, Mr. Anders, I don’t have a family.”

  “In that case, Mason, how would you like to spend the holidays with us? As our guest.”

  “I think I would like that very much, sir. I would imagine Mrs. Anders will . . . ah, want to bathe her sons herself this evening, so I’ll tidy up the kitchen. Is there anything else you need me to do?”

  “Nope.” Hank walked back to the family room and called out to Alice. “There’s someone here you need to meet, Alice.” Hank drew Mason forward. “Meet your new nanny. Alice, this is Mason. Mason, this is Mrs. Anders. Mason is my Christmas present to you, Ben, and the boys. He’s going to be here every day until Ben gets back home. The boys love him, and, if you can believe this, Churchill actually listens and does his business outside. He doesn’t jump the fence anymore either.”

  Tears rolled down Alice’s cheeks as she reached out to shake Mason’s hand. The boys toddled over to him, begging to be picked up. “It’s almost bath time, madam, do you wish to do the honors, or shall I?”

  Alice looked like she was in shock. “I . . . really, Hank, I have a nanny until Ben gets home? Oh, God, you dear sweet man. How did you know that was what I wished for? Oh, it doesn’t matter.” She looked from Hank to Mason and said something Hank found strange. “If you don’t mind, Mason, tonight I need you to bathe the boys. I have to go up in the attic to find something. From here on in, I’ll do the bathing. I don’t want to overwork you.”

  “Very well, madam.”

  “Do you need any help, Alice?”

  Supermom Alice would have said no, she had it under control. This new Alice said, “Yes, as a matter of fact, I do.” She bent over to ki
ss the boys again before she stepped over the gate. She literally ran up the stairs to the second floor, then up a third set of stairs to the attic. She whirled around at the top, and said, “The house looks so beautiful. Thank you, Hank. Perhaps someday I can make it up to you.”

  Hank nodded. “What are we looking for, Alice?”

  “It’s among the Christmas decorations. It’s a string of silver bells that Mr. Carpenter gave Ben a lifetime ago. You have no idea what that string of bells meant to him. Each time we moved—and there were so many moves—he always made sure that string of bells went with us. He said you and Mandy got one, too. The sound was so true, so pure. I have to find it, Hank. I didn’t leave anything on Albert’s porch. There are so many people out there, so many mementos: the cards, the letters, the keepsakes. It just blew me away.”

  “There are several e-mails from Ben waiting for you,” Hank said quietly as he rummaged through neatly labeled boxes.

  “Did you read them?” Alice asked.

  “Absolutely not!” Hank lied with a straight face. “Now that I know what we’re looking for, I can search. Why don’t you go and check Ben’s e-mails.”

  Alice whirled around. The expression on her face was so fierce, Hank stepped back. “You know what, Hank, Ben’s e-mails can wait. This is important.”

  Hank didn’t know what to say to that, so he didn’t say anything. He kept rummaging in the ornament boxes, wondering what he’d done with his own set of bells. He vaguely remembered Albert giving them to him, but from there on it was a blur. Maybe he needed to say something light, or something meaningful. “I’m getting married, Alice. Mandy Leigh came back home for the holidays and we . . . we hooked up again. She helped me decorate the house for you.”

  “Hmmm. That’s nice. Ben always said nice things about her.” Alice whirled around and said, “I didn’t mean it when I said I wished Ben had left me standing at the altar. Well, I meant it at the time I said it, but . . . you know what I’m saying, right?”