Coming Home for Christmas

by Fern Michaels

  “Hello,” she called. “It’s okay. There’s nothing to be afraid of.” She waited a minute or so to see if anyone materialized from either side of the long porch that wrapped around the perimeter of the old house.

  Wrapping her arms around her for warmth, she waited another minute before calling out again. “Is anyone there?” She didn’t like this. Something wasn’t right. Grace was about to step inside and call her contact at the police station when she heard someone call her name.

  “Who’s there?”

  A large figure stepped out from behind the shadows of tall pine trees grouped in a corner on the side of the house. Fearing this was an angry husband or boyfriend Grace stood next to the front door with her completely charged cell phone in her hand. “I’m going to count to three. If you don’t show yourself, I’m calling the police. One. Two—”

  “It’s me. Please don’t call the police.”

  Grace wasn’t sure what was worse; being surprised by an angry man looking to beat his wife or an idiot who didn’t have any social graces.

  “Max Jorgenson, what are you doing here? Furthermore, how on earth did you find me?” Grace’s hands shook, and her heart beat so fast she feared it would wear out before she had a chance to calm herself.

  He stepped away from the shadows. The light coming from inside the house outlined his large frame. “Can I come inside? It’s cold out here, plus I’m lost.”

  Grace smiled, glad for the darkness. “I suppose I owe you this. Tell me you’re not running from some crazed girlfriend before I let you inside,” Grace joked.

  He stepped onto the porch, then followed her to the kitchen.

  Grace turned the kitchen lights on, pointed to a chair. “Sit.”

  Max obeyed.

  “I’m going to make a pot of tea. I hope by the time it’s ready you have a good explanation for coming all the way out here just to scare me half to death.” Grace was as good as her word. She filled two mugs with tap water, nuked them for three minutes, dunked a tea bag in each one, grabbed sugar and cream from the fridge.

  “Okay, tell me why you’re here.” She glanced at the clock on the microwave. “Do you realize it’s officially Christmas? I can’t wait to see . . . never mind. Just tell me why you’re here. And it better be good.”

  Max smiled at her—a smile that actually reached his eyes. “This is probably the most outrageous thing I’ve ever done in my life.”

  “It’s not, trust me. I’ve seen your Alpine, downhill skiing.”

  Max grinned. “Pretty wild, huh?”

  “Bryce appreciates it much more than I do.”

  Max clammed up. “Maybe coming here was a mistake. This . . . Bryce, I know it’s none of my business, and you can tell me that, but before you do, there’s something I need to say. Then if you still want me to leave, I will. No questions asked.”

  “That’s fair enough. Say what you came to say.” Grace took a deep breath trying to calm the erratic beating of her heart.

  “Two years ago my wife was killed in the line of duty. She was a police officer, and she truly loved her work. She and her partner were called to the scene of a domestic dispute. The man had just beaten his wife and two-year-old daughter. When Kayla and her partner arrived at the house, the guy threatened to kill the child if they didn’t back off. Kayla’s partner Paul radioed in asking for a hostage negotiator. Knowing it would take time before they could get to the scene, Kayla spoke with the man, asking him to let the child go. She offered to exchange herself for the child. Apparently the deranged guy liked the idea of holding a female cop hostage. But when Kayla approached him, he must’ve changed his mind, something happened to scare him, I don’t know, and her partner didn’t either. Whatever the reason, he changed his mind. He shot Kayla twice in the chest, then put the gun in his mouth and shot himself. But at least the wife and child were safe. Paramedics got Kayla to the hospital, they even sent a patrol car to bring me to the hospital. By the time I got there, it was too late. She died, and when she died, everything in me died, too. I stopped eating, stopped socializing, I stopped everything. Then I started to drink. It never got out of hand, but it could have.” Max watched her to see her reaction.

  “I remember now when that was on the news. I am so sorry, Max. I don’t know what to say, or what it has to do with me.”

  “You’ll think I’m crazy when I tell you.”

  Grace laughed. “No more so than I do right now. Go on.” She was used to listening to people. It’s what she did.

  “When you and the girls showed up on my doorstep the other night, I was angry. Not at you, but angry at myself. I was . . . hell, I was instantly attracted to you. I even thought of you as a snow angel.” He took a sip of the tea. “I felt incredibly guilty, too. There hasn’t been anyone since Kayla. I’d buried myself in my grief for so long, I think I became comfortable with it. You and those two little girls reminded me that life is worth living. I even bought a Christmas tree with all the trimmings. Looks pretty good, too. Though the dogs didn’t like it. Before I had even started with the decorating, they both pissed all over it.” Max laughed loudly.

  Grace smiled. “Shame on them. I remember you telling me you didn’t like the holidays. Is this why?”

  Max nodded. “Kayla died on Christmas Eve, two years ago. She’d just found out she was pregnant.”

  “Oh Max, how terrible for you! I’m so sorry.”

  “Yes, I was too. More than I ever imagined. That first year was hard. Then it got a little easier, and when it did, I felt so guilty that I’d plunge myself right back into that dark place just to ease the feelings of guilt that I had for being alive.”

  “It’s called survivor’s guilt and is quite common. Mother went through a period like that when my father died. She’d always been the one to catch everything from the flu to ear infections. My father never had a sick day in his life. He dropped dead of a massive heart attack while he was teaching a history class.”

  “I guess you never get over it, you just learn to live with it.”

  “That’s true. We all have our own ways of dealing with grief. There’s no right or wrong way, Max. Guilt is a terrible thing for those who are left behind.”

  “Which brings me to the reason why I came here in the first place. Or one of them.”

  “I’m listening,” Grace said.

  “You’re good at this stuff, but I suppose you already know that.”

  “I’ve done it a time or two.”

  “First tell me about Bryce.”

  Grace’s eyes lit up like the tree back at the cabin. Home, he corrected himself, it’s home now.

  “He’s absolutely wonderful. I can’t imagine my life without him. We don’t get to see one another as much as we used to, but we’re okay with it. We talk on the phone whenever we can. Bryce isn’t too good at answering his e-mail, but I’m sure once he gets settled into his new routine, he will. From what I understand, most colleges use their e-mail systems to communicate with their students. Bryce is going to teach history at the University of Colorado after the first of the year. He’s very excited about his career.”

  “I guess I don’t stand a chance. A ski bum versus a college professor.”

  “Max, Bryce is my brother.”

  His eyes brightened like two blue moons. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I guess I just assumed you knew. When Bryce was in junior high school, he was one of your biggest fans. He followed your career, watched you win all those Olympic medals. For a while, Mom and I feared he might take to the slopes instead of going to college, but he’s too much of a history buff, just like my father.”

  “So does this mean I have a chance? A slight chance of asking you out on a date?”

  Grace was so thrilled, everything around her blurred. “You can ask all you want, Max.”

  “But you don’t have to say yes. Am I right?”

  “No, you’re not. Listen, there’s something I want to ask you. It’s a bit . . . personal, but since y
ou drove all the way here and on Christmas Day, there’s no reason not to. When you kissed me, did you really mean what you said? That it was just a kiss?”

  “That’s the biggest lie I’ve ever told in my life. I wanted to wrap you in my arms, drag you upstairs, but I couldn’t. It took a lot of soul-searching for me to realize that it’s okay to be happy. That’s why I’m here.”

  “There’s just one more thing,” Grace asked. “Do you think I’m practical?”

  “You? Practical? No way. Not in the least. Though I have to admit I don’t know you very well, but I intend to.”

  “You’re sure,” Grace teased.

  “One hundred percent, cross my heart. Why do you ask?”

  “Bryce told me I was practical, said it could be one of the reasons I’ve never settled down to raise a family.”

  “Well, I’m going to have to tell your brother a thing or two. If you were practical, you’d be married with a houseful of kids. Where is he?”

  “Actually, he’s upstairs sleeping,” Grace said. “Follow me. No, never mind. Wait here. I’ll be right back.”

  Grace didn’t bother knocking when she saw the light shining beneath his door. Shoving the door aside, Grace stepped into the room. Bryce was sitting up in bed, reading. “You ever heard of knocking?”

  “Yes, but this is my house, remember?”

  “So?”

  “I have your Christmas present. It’s in the kitchen.”

  “And it’s something that can’t wait until everyone else is up?”

  “No, actually it can’t. If you don’t want it, I can give him, I mean it, to someone who’ll appreciate it.”

  “All right, you’re not going to give me a minute’s peace until I see what you’ve cooked up. Oh crap, Gracie, is this about that cookbook you said you were giving me? Because if it is, I’ll see it soon enough.”

  “Bryce, march your ass downstairs to the kitchen right now. Don’t ask me another question. Now go.”

  “Okay, okay. Women,” he muttered as he slipped a T-shirt over his head.

  Grace felt like a kid at Christmas. Max wanted to get to know her better. Bryce was about to get the surprise of his life. And it was going to be the best Christmas she’d ever had.

  Max sat at the table sipping his tea when Bryce entered the kitchen. “Hey, Bryce, what’s up?” he asked casually.

  Bryce looked at Grace, then Max. “Tell me I’m not dreaming. Please.”

  “See?” Grace said to Max. “I told you he was your biggest fan.”

  Epilogue

  Christmas Day, 2009

  Grace paced back and forth inside her suite. She looked at her Rolex, a gift from Max. It was almost time. She couldn’t believe she’d agreed to this, but wanting to prove to everyone that she, Grace Landry, was anything but practical, when Max asked her to marry him, she agreed to his request about the location of the ceremony. And so, her wedding ceremony was about to take place on a ski slope at Maximum Glide. She smiled. She was anything but practical.

  So there she was, thirty-six years old, decked out in a five-thousand-dollar white ski suit, waiting for Stephanie, who was now her dearest friend and also her maid of honor. Ashley, nine going on twenty, would act as lead flower girl, and, of course, Amanda would do whatever her sister told her to do.

  A loud knock startled her. It was time.

  “Don’t you look gorgeous, all decked out in white,” Stephanie remarked as she perused the white ski suit she’d chosen for Grace. Stephanie had become the manager of the sporting goods’ shop at Maximum Glide. When she wasn’t selling ski equipment, she acted as an instructor. Both her girls were now expert on the slopes. Max had high hopes for Ashley in the 2018 Olympics and her sister four years later.

  Max had high hopes about everything. Grace couldn’t be happier. Though it had only been a year since she met Max, she’d fallen in love with him the very first time he kissed her. She wouldn’t have admitted it then, but now she would.

  Bryce was beside himself when she told him she was marrying Max. He said it was a dream come true for him. Grace told him she was happy her dream made his dream come true, but if he thought for one minute that he was going to mooch off Max for free lessons, he’d better think again. He’d have to enroll in the classes just like everyone else.

  Max was spending his time as a ski instructor at Maximum Glide. Eddie was still the manager. He and Stephanie were dating hot and heavy. Grace was sure there would be another wedding in the near future.

  Glenn had been sentenced to eight years in prison, not for hurting Stephanie alone, but for escaping also. Their divorce had been final for almost eight months.

  “It’s time, Grace. I think this is the most exciting thing that’s ever happened, don’t you?”

  “It is, it really is. I thought I’d never get married, and look at me now.” She hugged her dear friend.

  “We better go before all the lifts are taken,” Stephanie teased, knowing Max had reserved a lift for the wedding party and the guests.

  “Let’s go.” Grace grabbed her twenty-pound ski boots, her poles, and her hat and gloves. Her new “Maxie skis” were stored at the lift.

  Outside, the sun shone brightly. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky. The temperature was in the low twenties, but Grace didn’t mind the cold. She was about to marry the sexiest man alive.

  He waited for her at the top of Gracie’s Way, a new trail named in her honor.

  Max, Bryce, and her mother were all gathered at the top of the mountain when Grace and Stephanie jumped off the lift. She adjusted her sunglasses and skied across a small patch of ice to get to Max.

  They opted for a simple ceremony, or as simple as one got considering they were going to take their vows at the top of the mountain, then ski to the bottom for the pronouncement that would unite them as husband and wife. A friend of Eddie’s, who was also a justice of the peace, had agreed to marry them.

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” Max asked as he bent down to kiss her.

  “Get married? Are you kidding? I can’t wait,” Grace assured him.

  “I meant are you sure you want to get married on the slopes?”

  “I’m not a practical person, Max. You should know that by now. Frankly, I wouldn’t have it any other way. Now, let’s get this show on the slopes.”

  “Grace, I love you,” Max whispered in her ear.

  “I know you do, darling. The feeling is mutual.” Grace slid around to face the justice of the peace. Stephanie stood to her right, and Eddie, the best man, stood to Max’s left. Bryce and her mother stayed with Amanda and Ashley. Max had arranged for the lift to take Juanita back down the mountain.

  Everything was perfect, Grace thought as she cleared her throat. Nothing in her life had ever been as perfect as this moment on top of a cold, snowy mountain with the sun shining down on her.

  “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here on this mountain to unite Max Jorgenson and Grace Landry in holy matrimony.”

  After reciting the traditional wedding vows, with Grace and Max saying their “I do”s, the justice of the peace stepped aside and tucked his small black book inside his ski jacket before spinning around and directing his ski tips downhill toward the bottom of the mountain. “As planned, I will unite the couple in holy matrimony at the bottom of the mountain.” Max used his poles to position himself by Grace, and once there was a reasonable distance between them, he looked at her. “Are you ready?”

  Her grin was so broad it hurt. “I don’t think I can wait another minute,” Grace said, before shoving off. “I’ll meet you at the bottom.”

  Bryce, Stephanie, and her girls followed behind.

  With the wind at their backs, they curved and zigzagged down the mountain in near-record time. When they reached the bottom, there was a crowd gathering. “Do you know these people?” Grace whispered to Max.

  “No, but apparently they know us. Look.” Max pointed to several in the group who were holding signs that read CONGRATULATIONS MAX AND
GRACE!!!

  The justice of the peace cleared his throat. “By the powder, uh, I mean power vested in me by the good state of Colorado and by the fans cheering behind us, I now pronounce you man and wife. You can kiss her now, Max.”

  Max dropped his poles and turned to his wife, who had dropped her poles, too. Together, they slid to the ground, embracing one another. When his lips touched hers, Grace was sure the world actually tilted. His kiss was deep and passionate. Her senses were alive and tingling.

  “Max?” she mumbled while they were kissing.

  “Hmm?”

  “The snow is going to melt if we don’t stop!”

  “I’m that hot?”

  “Yes, Mr. Jorgenson, you are that hot. Now help your wife up, or I might break something. And if I break something, that means we’ll have to cancel our honeymoon, and I really don’t want to because I’ve never been to Hawaii, or Ireland, or Spain.”

  “If you put it that way, I don’t have a choice, now do I, Mrs. Jorgenson?”

  “Say it again, Max.”

  “What?”

  “Call me Mrs. Jorgenson.”

  “Mrs. Jorgenson, you’re going to be so sick of hearing me call you that for the next two months, you just might resort to using your maiden name.”

  “Never, Max. Never in a million years,” Grace said, as he lifted her into his arms.

  “Mrs. Jorgenson?”

  “Yes, Mr. Jorgenson?”

  “There’s something I’ve been wanting to say to you all day, and now seems as good a time as any.”

  “What would that be?”

  “Merry Christmas, Grace. Merry Christmas.”

  “Merry Christmas, Max. I think I’m about the happiest woman alive right now.”

  “I love you, Grace. Always and forever.”

  “Oh Max, I love you, too!”

  “Hey, did we order a wedding cake?”

  Grace looked at Max, the love of her life and now her husband. Her life was so very rich at that moment, she wanted to burn it into her memory.

  Forever and always.

  Holiday Magic

  I’d like to dedicate this novella