by Olivia Miles
“Please tell me you’re not here to carol,” he said.
She wavered for a moment. Only a few days ago—heck, a few hours ago—she might have had a witty response to that, but today she was in no mood.
She shook her head. She was shaking, but not from the cold.
“Good. Georgie has had holiday music blasting all morning. Come in. You must be freezing.”
More like boiling in rage, she thought. Still, she managed a tight smile and walked inside the house. It was warm, stifling really, but she didn’t want to unravel her scarf or unbutton her coat or even shed her gloves. She wasn’t here to make herself at home. She was here for answers.
In the distance she could hear the music, and she hoped that Phil wouldn’t ask Georgie to turn it down. This conversation was better kept between the two of them. If things went as she feared, it might not even turn out to be child-friendly.
“I can’t stay long,” she explained when he reached for her coat.
“Of course. The shop must be busy,” he said, and she narrowed her eyes.
Like he cared. Or like it mattered, not if the store would be closed after the holidays.
She blinked back the tears that stung her eyes, threatening to fall, and held out the box, her excuse for coming, even though she had planned to give it to him this week anyway. Tonight, even. “I found this, in the shop,” she explained as he popped the lid.
From the back room, the music was replaced with the sounds of a television. The soundtrack was unmistakable and one of her favorites. Under normal circumstances, she would have commented, eagerly asked to see Georgie, maybe even stayed to watch the holiday movie. But today she hoped that Georgie was too distracted by the film to pop her head out or say hello. Seeing her now, with those bright eyes and sweet smile, would be make all of this much more difficult than it already was. And Cora couldn’t lose her nerve.
She couldn’t deny what she had been told. Even if that was all she suddenly wanted to do.
A day ago, this felt like the most hopeful Christmas yet. And now, well now she was starting to understand why some people didn’t find it in their hearts to celebrate every year.
“Your grandmother collected them,” Cora explained when Phil held up the small porcelain object in the shape of a dove. A peace offering, she realized, only she wasn’t sure an ornament could make a difference now.
Not with someone who didn’t understand the meaning of Christmas.
“I remember these…” Phil marveled.
“Well, you said that you didn’t have any of the decorations, so when I saw this…I thought it might help you remember that one Christmas you spent here.”
“You certainly like to uphold traditions,” he said, the corner of his mouth lifting into a smile.
“If you don’t carry on traditions, they slip away,” she said, giving him a long look. It was what had happened to him, she realized now, to the Keatons, and everything they held so dear.
And she’d vowed long ago not to let it happen to her.
“Have you decided what you plan to do with the house?” she asked, seizing the moment. “After the holiday?”
He raised his eyebrows, carefully returning the ornament to the box and avoiding eye contact. “Georgie is already asking about spending the summer here. She wants to swim in the lake.”
Cora pursed her lips. “I’m not surprised.”
He was finally forced to look at her, and when the smile fell from his mouth and his eyes shadowed, the silence confirmed everything she’d feared.
He blew out a breath. “To be honest, Cora, I had planned to sell the place. My grandparents don’t need it. They won’t be coming back. And…there didn’t seem to be any point in holding on to it.”
“And my shop? The property on Main Street?” She stared at him, half in challenge, half willing it to not be true.
He held her gaze for a beat before shaking his head. “I had no ties to this town, Cora. It’s not personal.”
“It is personal,” she said in an angry whisper, not trusting her emotions to get the better of her, when Georgie was in the next room. “It’s very personal. That building isn’t just my business. It’s my home. And that shop…” She pulled in a shaky breath. He knew what that shop meant to her. To this town.
“I wanted to tell you, Cora, so many times. And then…”
“Yes,” she said, straightening her back. “And then…what exactly? Tell me, Phil, because I’d like to know. What exactly was all of this? A way to soften the blow?”
“No!” he said. He pulled in a breath, raked a hand through his hair. “I came in that day, when you were on the ladder. I had planned to tell you then.”
She barked out a laugh. “Thanksgiving Day, you mean? You had planned to tell me on Thanksgiving that you were selling the property out from under me?”
She realized by the shame in his eyes that he hadn’t even considered how poor his timing would have been. “I did. Yes.” He shook his head. “I honestly didn’t even think. The holidays never meant much to me.”
“So I’ve noticed.” It was cruel, perhaps, and by the hurt in his eyes, accurate.
“And then I came back the next day, hoping to tell you…and you were so good with Georgie. It was like overnight she changed. She was happy. I loved seeing her that way.”
“Please,” Cora said scornfully. “Don’t pity me because I was nice to your child.”
“I don’t pity you,” he said firmly. He was staring at her so intensely that she was momentarily disarmed. “I…I guess I’m in awe of you. I saw something in you that made me dare to believe that everything could be different. Better.”
Tears welled up in her eyes and for a moment, she thought, it wasn’t an act. It was all real. He was a good man. A man who loved his daughter. And this town. And Christmas.
And maybe even her.
But all too soon a shadow fell over his face again, and the warm and hopeful feeling was lost.
“This time here, this holiday…it’s not our life. Georgie will be living with her mother again, and I have my business to think about, and everything I’ve worked for to get to this point. This has been a vacation, but you can’t stay on vacation forever. Eventually, you have to go back to reality.”
“You don’t have to go back to the way things were,” Cora said firmly, hating the emotion that threatened when her breath hitched. “And sure, a lot of people just come here for the summers, but a lot of people live here year-round, too. It’s not a vacation for me. It’s my home. My life.”
And please don’t take it all away, she thought.
He looked at her sadly for what felt like eternity. She could hear the ticking of the old grandfather clock in the hall. Tears prickled the backs of her eyes, but they didn’t fall. There was still hope. And Christmas was always a time for hope.
“You told me yourself that Blue Harbor was different—better—than the life you had back in the city,” she said, hating the way her voice hitched. “And it doesn’t have to be that way. Will you really be happier going back, putting your business before everything else, just to try to win your father’s approval? Because I can tell you that you already have approval, just for being you. Your grandparents adore you as much as they love this town. And Georgie…” She trailed off. She’d said enough.
Phil’s jaw tensed, and for a moment, she thought she had actually gotten through to him. Until he said, “I’m sorry, Cora. You know that I mean that.”
“No,” she said, taking a step backward, toward the door. She couldn’t look at him, couldn’t hear anymore. “I don’t know that. And I don’t believe it either.”
She opened the door, letting the icy cold breeze hit her warm skin and freeze the tears that were hot and burning and about to spill over.
She stepped outside, knowing that this was probably the last time she would speak to him again, on a personal level, at least. There was still the business end of things to look forward to now, or maybe he’d spare her and
have Lanie deliver the paperwork.
She turned, not giving any thought to what she was about to say, but allowing herself to speak from the heart, because when all else failed, that was what her mother had always told her to do.
“If you were sorry, you wouldn’t do it. If you have to apologize, then you must know it isn’t right. We all make choices, Phil. And saying you’re sorry doesn’t mean anything. Your actions do. And all the good intentions in the world don’t help anything or anyone if your effort is put in the wrong place.”
He stood tall in the doorway, the warm glow of the lamp in the hallway behind him. He stared at her sadly, not saying anything, until she turned and walked away, the snow crunching under her boots, all the way to where her car was parked. And even though she usually loved walking through the streets in this weather, days before Christmas when the wreaths were hung, and candles were lit in windows, and lights from Christmas could be seen in the corners of every house, each step felt heavier than the one before, because she wasn’t walking toward anything anymore.
She was walking away from something. And someone.
And for the first time in a long time, all hope felt lost.
14
Christmas Eve this year was not like any Cora had spent before, and that wasn’t just because Candy had spiked the hot cocoa with schnapps. She sat in the front room of her childhood home, with the fire crackling in the hearth and the Christmas tree lighting up the window, determined not to be bothered by the star that sat on top and finding that she had succeeded. Christmas was officially ruined; what did the tree topper matter?
Cora curled up tighter in her usual spot on the sofa, with the best view of the tree, of course, her favorite chenille blanket covering her legs, and a holiday movie playing on the television screen. By all standards, it was the same as always, except everything was different, and everyone was missing.
Cora didn’t even protest when Candy suggested they watch a holiday movie of her choosing—a comedy that didn’t give her any of the cozy vibes she’d cherished so much. Cora found that she rather liked the modern, colorized film to the usual black and white that she had memorized by now. Besides, she wasn’t paying much attention to it anyway.
Her mind kept drifting back to the shop. And Phil. And every time she thought of the future and how uncertain it all felt, her stomach clenched, and she had to resist the urge to turn and talk to one of her sisters.
But they were not here. And that was why this Christmas Eve was not like any she had spent before. The movie and tree were just things. But the people…the people were what made Christmas so wonderful.
If only Phil could have understood that, Cora thought with a heavy sigh.
“How about I make us some more popcorn?” Cora’s father broke the silence, and Candy was clearly relieved. Since walking in the door, unable to mask her feelings, Cora had told Candy and her father about her exchange with Phil, and Candy had made it her mission to cheer her up, saying they would together find an even better space, something fresh, something better.
Her smile never wavered, and not long ago this may have worn on Cora’s nerves. But tonight she didn’t mind the optimism, because she was fresh out of it herself.
Cora’s father didn’t wait for an answer as he collected the empty popcorn bowl that Candy had made short work of and moved slowly to the door, his old injury still flaring up from time to time.
“Extra butter and salt, Denny!” Candy grinned broadly as she turned to Cora. “If you’re going to have a family movie night, you may as well double down.”
Double down. That’s what Cora had done, wasn’t it? Put everything into her shop. Her money, her inheritance from her mother, her time. And, up until recently, her heart.
She’d given her heart to someone else. Let herself lose sight of what was most important. And now, she stood to lose it.
Catching her frown, Candy paused the movie and jostled next to her on the sofa. “Now, it’s Christmas Eve. You’re not going to tell me that you’re going to let that man ruin this night for you? I know it’s your favorite night of the year.”
Cora gave Candy a weak smile. Her attempts at making the most of this holiday were obvious, from the light-up necklace she wore that was honestly making Cora little dizzy, to the oversized elf slippers that left Cora wondering where she shopped, because none of these items were sold in her shop, to the endless supply of spiked cocoa, even if it was so strong that Cora was still only halfway through her first mug. Still, she was grateful for the refills of marshmallows every ten minutes or so. Candy was never one to do something halfway.
And neither, Cora supposed, was she.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do, Candy,” she admitted with a sigh. Tears prickled the back of her eyes and she blinked them away quickly. Took a sip from her drink instead. “That store was my entire life.”
Candy nodded sagely. “It was. It’s a terrible loss. But it’s also, if you don’t mind me saying this, maybe a blessing in disguise?”
Cora gaped at her. “How can this possibly be a good thing?”
Candy held up her hands defensively. “Now, just hear me out. Here you are, pretty as a Christmas card, sitting here with me and your father on Christmas Eve? Honey, that store is a wonderful place for you, and I know that your father couldn’t be more proud, but maybe…well, maybe it’s also been a good excuse for you to stay inside, tucked away, all alone. Maybe, if I may be so bold…” She paused. Candy was never anything if not bold. “Maybe you were a bit stuck in the past.”
Cora fell quiet. She took a bigger sip of cocoa from her mug. The schnapps burned her throat, but it did the trick. She’d need to finish the rest if she was going to get through this conversation with Candy, because Candy wasn’t just being pushy for once.
She was also right.
“I suppose it was my safe place,” she admitted. “Christmas in general had a way of boosting my spirits. Making me shut out all the tough stuff in life.”
“And there’s nothing wrong with a little joy and celebration. But I’m just saying,” Candy continued. “It would do you good to get out more! Love doesn’t just walk through the door.”
Only in Cora’s case, it sort of had. Or at least, so she’d thought.
Now she leaned her head back against the pillows, remembering the first time she’d seen Phil, when he’d pushed through the door of her shop, catching her by complete surprise. So much had changed since then, and not just the status of her business.
She’d changed, she realized. She now knew what it felt like to be with a man that she cared about, and to hold Georgie’s hand in hers, to feel like a part of a family. A family different than the one that had once inhabited this big Victorian home.
Now she understood how her sisters were ready to spend their holidays elsewhere. Why they felt fulfilled with these new arrangements. That there was more to life, if she was willing to take a chance.
Only after Phil had let her down, she wasn’t so sure that she was.
“Popcorn is ready!” her father cried out from the hall. “Extra butter just for my lady.”
Candy simpered, but her eyes glowed with happiness that was so contagious, even Cora couldn’t help but smile. Her father had found a way to open his heart again. To make changes, and adjust.
Maybe she could too.
The doorbell rang just as they were about to get the movie started.
“Carolers?” Cora checked her watch. Normally she’d look forward to this—her cousin Jenna organized it every Christmas Eve with members of the choir, going door to door, singing one carol at each home, and it was always a surprise to see what you heard each year.
But tonight, Cora struggled to find the enthusiasm to push the blanket off her legs. She wasn’t so sure she could fake the delight in Candy’s expression.
But as it turned out, she didn’t have to. A cold burst of winter air filtered into the front room and there, over her shoulder, stood not one, but all three of her s
isters.
“What?” She blinked in surprise, but couldn’t deny the smile in her face. “What are you guys doing here?”
“Change of plans,” Maddie said, unwinding her scarf. Amelia and Britt were already untying their boots, and their father was taking their coats.
Cora looked at Candy, who didn’t look surprised in the slightest. Come to the think of it, neither did Cora’s father.
“I’ll just go make sure that popcorn is buttered to my standard,” Candy said with a wink as she pushed off the couch and disappeared with Denny into the kitchen.
Cora’s sisters descended upon her.
“We heard about Phil,” Britt said. She sat directly in front of Cora, on the base of the hearth, shaking her head. “You know it will be all right, Cora. We’ll make sure of that.”
“There are other places on Main Street, or near it. I went through something similar when I thought I’d have to give up my space for the café,” Amelia pointed out.
Cora nodded. “I know. It’s not just about the move. It’s about…the betrayal, I guess.”
“I can’t get over the nerve of that man! And the Keatons! Did you try calling them?” Maddie asked.
Cora shook her head. “They’ve been good to me. If this was what they wanted, then who am I to convince them otherwise? Maybe they need the money. And if they’re not coming back to town, really, why do they need to hold onto all their properties?”
“But they loved this town,” Maddie said, looking as confused as Cora felt. After all, Mrs. Keaton had loved her holiday shop more than nearly anyone else in town.
“It’s the reality of their circumstances,” Cora said, trying in vain to convince herself it was this simple. “And now mine.”
“Just the same, I could throttle Phil Keaton for leading you on like that! Playing nice, just to let you down?”
Cora blew out a breath, feeling miserable. “I suppose that’s exactly what he did. Tried to let me down gently. So much for that.”
She thought of that kiss, in the snow, with the moonlight casting shadows over his handsome face.
