Home for the Holidays

by Sara Richardson

  Now, though, looking around the room, she wasn’t so sure.

  She should’ve been more careful about getting her hopes up, like Eric had said, and yet over the months she’d added things to the room—the Goodnight Moon book and the cute bookshelves shaped like trees. The gender-neutral koala wall hangings she hadn’t been able to walk past at a baby boutique. The sign with cursive lettering that read, “We love you to the moon and back.” And the little Christmas stocking she’d bought last year, because after all the trials and tribulations of trying to conceive, she’d been sure their little miracle would be on the way by then.

  They’d done everything right—they’d followed all the procedures and schedules and recommendations and old wives’ tales. She’d prayed and begged and pleaded and read every blog she could find. She’d followed special diets and had always made sure to get the recommended amount of exercise. She’d reduced her stress through meditation and gentle yoga. And yet this room was still empty. Somehow the decor and the books and the subtle yellow paint she’d slathered on the walls made it feel even emptier.

  Magnolia walked to the changing table where the Christmas stocking hid in the top drawer. Eric didn’t know it was there. She’d stopped showing him the things she bought for the baby. She wanted to stop hearing his gentle cautioning. Maybe we should wait. This is only making it harder…

  Tears stung the rims of her eyes as she opened the drawer and pulled out the stocking that still had a blank space where she had planned to stitch a name. The gnawing emptiness inside her seemed to open up again, spreading all through her. The stocking was soft and velvety—so delicate with white faux fur trim around the top—just like Santa’s hat. She’d dreamed of hanging it up on their fireplace mantel, of filling it with little surprises. Christmas was supposed to have become even more meaningful, more significant because they would have a baby to share it with.

  Not letting the tears fall, Magnolia shoved the stocking back into the drawer. This year, Christmas had lost its meaning. She and Eric were skirting around each other, and for the first time in their marriage they were spending the holidays apart. She was leaving for Colorado that very afternoon, and she didn’t know when or if she was coming back.

  A sense of defeat crowded out the desperation she’d felt for so long. Once so full of love and hope, her heart seemed to have shriveled. Tears threatening to fall again, Magnolia pulled the koala pictures off the wall and shoved them into the closet. Next went the “We love you to the moon and back” sign. Eric had been right. This was only making it harder. The room, the reminders. She needed to get away. She needed to figure out how to weave her broken heart back together.

  And she desperately needed another brownie. Slipping out of the room, she closed the door firmly and then stumbled into the kitchen to where she’d left the pan of brownies on the stove to cool. Crap. Had she really eaten four already? A familiar self-loathing closed its fist around her heart.

  Four? Seriously? Why couldn’t she ever stop at one? Before she’d moved away from home for college, her mother had always told her exactly how much she could eat, and now she couldn’t seem to make responsible choices without hearing her mother’s voice whisper You don’t need more in her ear. These days she always felt like she needed more. Even with the weight she’d put on—even with being four sizes larger than she’d been three years ago—she still needed more.

  Screw it. Mags shoved half of another brownie into her mouth. Chocolate might not fix anything, but it took the edge off her emotions for a few seconds. And anyway, that would be the last one she’d ever eat. She swore. She’d never take another bite of chewy chocolaty goodness as long as she live—

  A key turned in the lock across the room. Eric opened the door and cautiously stepped inside as though he knew she wouldn’t want to see him.

  Mags stayed where she was, almost afraid to look into his eyes and see the disappointment, the distance between them. It seemed to have grown so vast since their last argument. “What’re you doing here?” He was supposed to be on his twenty-four-hour shift. That’s the only reason she’d come home tonight. She’d stayed with Coral for the last few nights, but she couldn’t stay there forever.

  “I got someone to cover the rest of my shift.” Eric walked over to where she stood. He was still dressed in his starched navy-blue firemen’s uniform, and his dark hair was mussed as though he’d recently had his helmet on. That look used to seduce her. Not quite three weeks ago—two weeks after the in vitro had failed and before the big fight—that uniform had seduced her to fall into bed with him. It had been so long since they’d made love without the schedule, without the rules, without the knowledge that it could make or break their chance to have a baby. It had simply been the two of them again—showing love, taking love, comforting each other in the most intimate way possible. And then, only days later, he’d told her he was giving up on their dream.

  “I had to come home and see you.” His arms reached out halfway and stopped as though he was afraid to touch her. “This is making me crazy, Mags. I don’t want to fight with you.” His dark irresistible eyes and long lashes made him look so sincere. Those eyes and his handsome face had always drawn her in. It was the captivating contrast between his squared broad jaw and the two small dimples that appeared when he smiled. So rugged, but tender, too. Except, he didn’t smile at her much anymore. Not since before all the fertility treatments.

  Avoiding his gaze, Mags dragged herself to the stove and helped herself to another brownie from the pan. She’d do double duty on the cardio tomorrow.

  “Please say something.” Eric hovered nearby but didn’t crowd her.

  “I don’t know what to say.” She carted the remaining brownies over to the trashcan and dumped them. She’d never had much willpower. For chocolate or for men in uniform.

  “We were happy.” Behind her, Eric’s voice teetered on the verge of desperation. “We were happy before all this started. We don’t need kids, Mags. We don’t need a baby to be happy.”

  And that was the difference between them. “I do.” Mags took the empty brownie pan to the sink and started to wash it. “It’s what I’ve dreamed about my whole life. Being a mother.” And now that she knew how he really felt, things would never be the same. He didn’t want a child and she did. What middle ground could they possibly find to stand on? “I’m tired.” Bone-weary tired. “I’m tired of fighting. Of trying so hard. I can’t do it anymore.” There was that sense of defeat again, washing over her, dragging her back into the riptide.

  “We won’t fight anymore,” he promised. “We’ll go see that counselor you liked. Or maybe we should take a vacation together. You’ve always talked about going up to Martha’s Vineyard—”

  “I don’t want to go on vacation.” Mags shut off the water and spun to face him. Nausea churned through her. “I’m going to stay with my aunt Sassy for a while. Rose and Dahlia and I are going to spend the holidays with her.” Maybe she should’ve told him before she’d bought the one-way ticket to Denver.

  Eric’s shoulders caved. “You haven’t seen your aunt in years. Why now? Are you going to spend time with her or are you leaving me?” His voice cracked on the last word but he cleared his throat and continued, “Which one is it?”

  “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I need some time. Some space. This isn’t all your fault, Eric. Our problems are my fault, too. But I’m not sure we can fix them.”

  “We can. I know we can.” He approached her slowly, as though he didn’t want to scare her away. “I love you, Mags. But I can’t keep doing these treatments and watching your heart break every time. We can’t afford to keep trying. I’ll make you happy without a baby. Like we were before…”

  “Too much has changed.” A familiar pain wrung out her heart. It was so much easier to push him away when she was mad at him. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t give up on us.” Her husband carefully reached his hands to her face, holding it gently while he looked deeply into h
er eyes. “You go to your aunt and sisters. Do whatever you have to do. Take time. But please, Mags…don’t give up.”

  Chapter Seven

  Rose

  In the eighteen years Rose had been away from Juniper Springs, not one thing seemed to have changed.

  She pulled into a slanted parking spot and cut the engine, leaning back with a nostalgic sigh at the familiar sights along Main Street. The square brick storefronts had all been elaborately decorated with garlands and lights and wreaths fashioned from the juniper pine branches. Snow encrusted the windows and the ledges, making the whole scene very Norman Rockwell. A few people hurried down the sidewalk all bundled in their stocking hats and scarves and puffy jackets, greeting each other as they passed.

  It was strange that coming back here gave her a sense of coming home—she could feel it, something settling deep inside her. Growing up, their family had moved more than a dozen times. As soon as her father got a raise at work, their mother insisted they move to a bigger, better house. But no matter where they went, Rose never felt as though any of those places were home. Not in the truest sense of the word.

  Moving around so much had scattered her memories. Did her first kiss happen at the house on the south side, or the one in Midtown? Did she fall down the stairs and break her arm at the house in Rincon or the one in Richmond Hill? She couldn’t quite remember, but she remembered every one of her visits to Juniper Springs with Technicolor clarity.

  Rose climbed out of the car so she could smell it—that fresh, crisp mountain air, the hints of pine, the swirling scent of hot chocolate and coffee wafting from Grumpy’s Place, the coffee shop down the street.

  Wow. It was exactly like stepping into a memory. Suddenly she was transported back in time, to the day when she’d been eight or nine years old and Sassy had brought her into town just the two of them the day before Christmas. Rose had bounced along beside her aunt, oohing and aahing over every window display in those storefronts. They’d taken a detour through the park across the street. Rose turned to face it now. The gazebo still stood there, snowflake Christmas lights dangling from the rafters, and every tree in the park had been wrapped in lights. She could still picture the sparkling colors that had made the park seem so magical back then. She’d have to come back at night to see the light display in all its glory.

  Pulling her scarf up tighter around her ears, Rose headed across the street to get a better look at the park. She’d only stopped in town to see if she could still get a cup of Grumpy’s coffee, but now that she was here, she couldn’t resist a walk down memory lane.

  The crown jewel of all the Christmas decorations had always been located front and center in the park. Each year, one of the local businesses sponsored the giant Christmas tree that stood next to the gazebo. The Yuletide Committee hiked out to some remote area of the nearby forest and selected the perfect spruce or evergreen. Then the sponsoring business always took great care to decorate the tree with beautiful ornaments and festive lights…

  Oh! There it was. As always, it was impressive, at least twenty feet tall and covered from top to bottom in silvery tinsel. She smiled. This town really hadn’t changed.

  Rose took it slow on the sidewalks. The snow had been cleared, but patches of ice still shone in the sun and her cute Uggs didn’t give her much traction. Gregory had bought them as a gift for her before she left for Colorado. To keep her feet warm, he’d said. The reflection almost startled her. That was the first time she’d thought of her fiancé since she’d left Savannah. It had been a crazy trip with the flight delays and overbooked connections. Evaline had offered their family’s private jet, but Rose only suspected that was so she could control when Rose departed and when she returned, and Rose didn’t want to plan her return. Not yet. Not until they knew what they were dealing with in regard to Sassy’s health.

  She paused in front of the massive fir tree. It was stately and perfectly shaped, but now that she drew closer, the trimmings on the tree…yikes.

  Glancing around, Rose frowned. There seemed to be no thought put into how the ornaments had been placed on the branches. Instead of spacing them out and varying the color patterns, the red, green, and silver baubles had all been clumped together.

  Walk away. This is not your problem. And it wasn’t her place to fix it, either. But, holy moly would it look so much better if those ornaments were spread out in a thoughtful color arrangement. Rose glanced over her shoulder and smiled at a young mother and her daughter walking by. She studied the ropes cordoning off the tree. A sign stood nearby: “This year’s Christmas tree donated by Fixers Hardware Store.”

  Oh, no wonder! With the holiday rush, those hardware store workers were likely much too busy to take the time to arrange the ornaments carefully. They’d probably just piled all those ornaments on the branches without another thought.

  She was thinking though. A tree this regal should be dressed exquisitely. It should be balanced and coordinated. It should look like someone had put thought into Juniper Springs’ hallmark Christmas display.

  She couldn’t walk away, or she’d keep thinking about it all night. That’s what she did. She overanalyzed everything when it came to design. She obsessed over it and couldn’t rest until she did something to fix it. If she could at least get the bottom of the tree straightened out right now, she could find a ladder at Sassy’s house and come back tomorrow to rearrange the top. Shooting another quick glance down the sidewalk, Rose stepped over the rope barrier and approached the tree. The ornaments appeared expensive—real glass balls with varying intricate designs, so at least the tree had that going for it. With a little rearranging it would actually be beautiful.

  Standing back, Rose started to formulate a plan to highlight the tree’s natural shape and stature. Carefully, she started to pluck some of the red ornaments off the branches, setting them in the snow next to her. Next went the green. She carefully tucked a few into her coat pockets to keep them from getting lost. Obviously, she’d have to go shopping later to find more ornaments. The tree should be filled with them. Oh! Maybe she could even find some locally made ornaments. She’d be happy to donate some new ones to the collection to give the tree more personality.

  Happiness bubbled up inside of her at the prospect of a project. Anything to take her mind off what she was about to hear once she arrived at the Juniper Inn. The thought of losing Sassy stole the breath from her lungs.

  “What’re you doing?”

  Rose spun, knocking a branch in the process. A tangle of gold ornaments fell to the ground and scattered, getting lost in the deep snow.

  A man stomped over the rope barrier. She couldn’t see much of him with the green stocking hat pulled down over his forehead and the flannel scarf wrapped around his neck and mouth, but his eyes were dark and glowering.

  “Great,” the man mumbled. “Now we’re gonna have to wait till spring to find those.” He shot her a glare that immediately knocked her off-balance. Those eyes of his were so sharp they could cut right through a person.

  “I asked you what you’re doing.” His glare shifted to her bulging pockets. “You want ornaments to take home there’s a secondhand store a few blocks away that sells them for cheap.”

  Despite the bitter chill in the air, heat flashed across Rose’s cheeks. “I’m not taking the ornaments.” Seriously. What kind of person would steal ornaments off the town tree? “I was fixing the tree.” She tried to glare back at him, but glaring had never been her strong suit. This man had obviously practiced a lot.

  “You’re fixing it?” He repeated as though she’d just told him she was burning it down.

  “Yes.” Rose raised her shoulders and stepped closer to the man to show him he couldn’t intimidate her. “It’s a mess. I’m sure the hardware store meant well, but there is absolutely no order to the placement of these ornaments. I mean, look.” She gestured to the silver balls she hadn’t gotten to yet. “They’re all grouped together. It’s like someone just threw them up there.”


  The man’s deep-set eyes narrowed. They were an interesting shape, those eyes. Slightly upturned in the corners, large and perceptive somehow. “Who the hell are you?” he asked in a growl.

  Oh, right. Well she supposed he did have some reason to be suspicious. Everyone in Juniper Springs probably knew everyone else, and no one in town had seen her in almost two decades.

  “I’m Rose.” She attempted to melt the ice in his stare with her brightest smile. “Rose Buchanan.”

  The man simply blinked at her as though waiting for her to elaborate.

  “I’m Sassy’s niece,” she went on, doing her best to keep up the wattage in her smile. “She’s asked my sisters and I to spend Christmas with her this year like we did when we were younger.” See? She actually did belong here. “I’m also a designer,” she added, and then immediately shut her mouth. Why did she always feel the need to justify herself?

  “So, you think being a designer qualifies you to mess with the Christmas tree?” His condescending tone seemed to chill the air even more. “We don’t need help from someone like you.”

  Someone like her? Suddenly Rose felt trapped in her coat. Embarrassment and anger swirled together in her stomach. He didn’t even know her! “I’m only trying to help.”

  “We don’t want your help.” The man swiped a few of the red ornaments off the snow and hung them back on the tree exactly the way they had been before—all clumped together. “The tree is fine,” he snapped digging through the snow until he found one of the gold balls. He bumped past her and hung it back on the tree as though making a point. “If you’ll kindly empty your pockets, you can be on your way and I’ll put everything back where it goes.”