by Sophie Love
Standing back to admire their handiwork, Emily had to admit it didn’t look like much at the moment, but once winter gave way to spring they would start to flourish. With sunshine streaming through the glass it would look beautiful in here. Emily hoped as the years passed they would grow strong and fruitful as a lasting testament to Trevor.
“We’ll need a nap if we want any chance of staying awake tonight,” Daniel said.
“What’s tonight?” Emily asked.
“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten,” Daniel said with a shake of the head. “The Christmas Eve soiree at the inn!”
Emily gasped with shock. How had she let it slip her mind? She had been so focused on making sure Trevor had the most exciting surprise for Christmas that she’d forgotten about the rest of her responsibilities. Tonight Chantelle would be singing at church with the town’s choir for the very first time!
The family headed back home, freezing cold and covered in dirt. Chantelle’s denim overalls had huge brown patches on the knees and she had somehow managed to get mud all over her face.
The inn felt toasty warm as they entered. As soon as they were inside, Lois excitedly beckoned them to the reception desk. There was a glossy magazine spread open before her.
“Colin handed this to me,” Lois explained, turning the magazine 180 degrees so they could see. “He said to tell you Merry Christmas.”
Emily glanced at the picture on the double page spread. It looked strikingly familiar.
“That’s our inn!” she gasped.
Lois grinned and nodded her head.
Hands trembling a little, Emily scanned the travel piece, reading Colin’s glowing review of the inn. Superbly succulent dishes. Exquisitely designed. A seafront location in a quaint, welcoming town.
“So that’s what he’d been was up to?” Emily said, laughing. “Writing a piece in a fancy travel magazine about the inn?”
Filled with Christmas cheer, everyone got to work preparing for the evening’s soiree. They had a lot to organize and there wasn’t a second to waste. Chantelle was bathed. Decorations were hung. Wine was mulled.
When Emily went into the living room to check everything was ready, she saw that three stockings had been hung in a row on the mantel. They weren’t completely evenly spaced, almost as if a gap had deliberately been left on the end for one more. Her mind wandered as she imagined a fourth stocking occupying the space for the potential child she and Daniel might one day create together. Had Daniel been unconsciously thinking the same as he’d hung them?
Just then, Daniel walked in.
“You hung these up already?” Emily asked him.
“As is traditional,” Daniel mocked. “They’re Chantelle’s creations.”
“I can tell,” Emily said, recognizing the child’s handiwork in each of their names sewn onto the stockings. “I hope she’s rested in time for the performance. I can’t believe I made her wake up so early. I think we’ll chalk that one up as a parenting fail.”
Daniel kissed her on the forehead. “Considering you succeed at pretty much one hundred percent of your parenting decisions usually, I think we can let that one slide.”
Emily smiled, filled with love and contentment. The pang for a child with Daniel grew even stronger, taking Emily by surprise. Though she’d always imagined children in her future, she now felt that desire more keenly than ever before. It was an almost painful longing.
“I saw a nice venue in Kittery,” Emily said, suddenly remembering the quaint town and its ivy-covered stone folly. “For the wedding. Perhaps we should make an appointment?”
Daniel gave her a look. “Emily, I got up at the crack of dawn to renovate a greenhouse for you, I’ve decorated your inn for Christmas, and now I have about a thousand meat pies to bake for your Christmas soiree. Can we please give wedding venue talk a miss for just one day?”
Surprised by his tone, Emily nodded. She’d hardly mentioned weddings to him since Amy’s interrogation! His dismissive tone brought with it Emily’s insecurities.
She followed Daniel into the kitchen but meat pies were the last thing on her mind.
*
The evening fast approached and Emily had only one thing left to organize for the event: herself! As she hurried down the hall she could hear the sound of Chantelle practicing her hymn in the living room. Owen had been kind enough to come over early to help settle any of her last-minute jitters. The whole hallway was decorated with fairy lights that sent a kaleidoscope of color around Emily as she sprinted up the stairs and into her room.
As she searched her wardrobe for a dress to wear, Emily tried to sort through her scrambled emotions. First and foremost, she was upset about Trevor spending Christmas alone, her grief compounded by the knowledge it would be his last. Then she was feeling rushed off her feet thanks to the festive period. That strange and sudden urge she’d experienced for a child wasn’t helping matters. And the icing on her scrambled-emotion-cake was, of course, Daniel dashing her feelings and dragging up her insecurities.
Emily went over to the vanity mirror to fix up her makeup and straighten her hair. But as she looked at her face in the mirror, she saw it begin to transform. She knew immediately that she was slipping back into her past, into her memories.
She grasped the edge of the table as though doing so could stop the memories in their tracks, although past experience had told her such a thing was not possible. There was no way of controlling when she was dragged back into the past, when the pressures of the present day would send her spiraling into her own mind.
Emily found herself suddenly sitting beneath a sad, small Christmas tree. It was still early morning so the fire hadn’t been lit yet. Her father was in his armchair, sipping on his second eggnog of the day. Charlotte was still in her pajamas, her hair unbrushed. A pile of ripped gift wrap surrounded them. But despite the gifts of toys and books they’d already opened, they both wanted to play with the same singing mermaid doll.
“I’m older!” Emily shouted. “I should get to press the button first!”
“No!” Charlotte wailed. “I want to press it first!”
“Just take turns,” Roy said with a heavy, weary sigh.
Emily turned her head over her shoulder to face her father. “I just want to press the button first. Then I’ll let Charlotte try.”
“Does it really matter who presses it first?” Roy exclaimed. “You’ll both be able to hear the damn thing sing!”
Emily gripped the mermaid doll tightly in her arms and turned her back on her little sister. Charlotte began to cry. She kept reaching for the toy, but Emily turned her back on her sister over and over again so she could never quite reach it, which made Charlotte more and more irate.
“Emily Jane!” Roy roared.
But Emily was feeling stubborn. She didn’t care that she was riling Charlotte. In fact, she was glad of it. Charlotte could be such a baby.
Suddenly, Charlotte snatched the mermaid doll from Emily’s arms. In a second the younger girl was on her feet, running for the door. Emily swiveled on the spot and threw herself across the floor, reaching out for Charlotte, and, in doing so, knocked over the side table that her father’s eggnog was sat on. The drink went flying, spraying the sweet, milky liquid all over the rug. The glass smashed against the floorboards.
Emily suddenly snapped back to the present day to find thirty-five-year-old Emily staring back at her in the mirror once more.
What a waste, she thought. If only she’d known that Charlotte would be gone so soon she’d never have wasted those precious moments with her. Despite the decades that had passed, Emily felt guilty over their argument. She wished she could go back in time and hand the mermaid to Charlotte, to let the little girl be the first to press the button and make her sing. Because it didn’t matter really who pressed the button first; what mattered was the time they had together, that short time.
The sound of thunderous footsteps brought Emily fully back to the present day. Then suddenly light was streamin
g into her room and Chantelle was standing in the doorway.
“Daddy told me to tell you that the ebbnog is ready,” she said, frowning with confusion. “Eddnog? Eddmog? I can’t remember. Something like that.”
Emily smiled and stood from the stool of the vanity mirror where she’d been perched for who knew how long. She took Chantelle’s hand and they went downstairs together. She could hear a hum of voices coming from the living room and realized the party had started without her.
Feeling a little bad, Emily entered the dining room to see many of her friends, staff, and guests milling around. The warmth they generated radiated through her.
Daniel excused himself from his conversation and walked up to her.
“There you are,” he said, handing her a glass of eggnog. “I thought I’d lost you.”
Emily took the drink and stared down at the yellowy liquid inside.
“Memories,” she explained. She gave him a sheepish look. “I got a little lost.”
He didn’t press any further. “Well, drink up. There’s only an hour before we have to leave.”
Just then, Karen sashayed through the crowds toward Emily.
“My darling,” she said, kissing Emily on each cheek. “The place looks fabulous! I love the lights. So classy.” She took a large glug of her eggnog, her pink cheeks revealing this certainly wasn’t her first of the evening. Then she whispered conspiratorially, “I see you weren’t able to tempt the dragon from his nest.”
“Dragon?” Emily asked, confused.
“Trevor, of course!” Karen cried, and she began to laugh. “I can see the light on in his top window, the one that means he’s spying on you!”
Emily swallowed the lump in her throat. She wanted to tell Karen to be more kind, but knew she couldn’t. Trevor entrusted her with his secret. The least she could do was keep it.
Just then, Emily felt a bump from behind and almost spilled her drink. She turned to see Cynthia spinning around, holding hands with a terrified-looking Matthew.
“He’s half your age!” Emily exclaimed. “Put the poor man down.”
But Cynthia just grinned and twirled the helpless young man away.
Though glad to see her friends enjoying themselves, Emily wished she herself had fewer worries on her mind. Spotting Richard Goldsmith across the room didn’t help matters, since it reminded her of all the adoption stress. And watching her married friends dance and joke together made her more anxious about the wedding plans, or lack of them. And even when Emily was able to relax and lose herself in the moment, she’d find her attention drawn to the rug, to the stain in the corner from a glass of eggnog she’d kicked over all those years ago…
Emily felt relieved when the time came to leave for the church service. Everyone was too inebriated to drive so they bundled into cabs or shared rides.
Snuggled in the back of a cab beside Emily, Chantelle seemed nervous. Singing with the town choir was a big moment for her, even if it was only for one song. They’d been so kind to allow her to join in with their Christmas show to help build her confidence with performing. Just think, only a month ago she’d been scared to sing in front of anyone; now she had two school performances under her belt and was about to sing to the entire town! Emily couldn’t be more proud of the little girl.
The procession of cars streamed up to the church and parked in the lot. Everyone got out and entered the church, where they were welcomed by Father Duncan.
“I see you’ve brought quite a troop with you,” he said as he shook Emily’s hand.
She nodded. “Everyone has a place at my inn,” she explained. Then she thought of Trevor, alone at home, watching them from the top window, and a knot of pain twisted in her stomach.
Father Duncan seemed to sense that she was troubled. “Is there anything you’d like to discuss?” he asked.
Emily shook her head.
Father Duncan took her hand and placed a small candle into it. “If you don’t feel able to speak to me, there is always someone you can confide in.”
Thanking him, Emily took the candle over to the steps where many other candles were lined up, their flames dancing in the gentle breeze. She lit the small white candle and whispered a prayer for Trevor, then placed it down.
It was then that she noticed a beautiful silver menorah set in one of the windows of the church. She’d always known that Sunset Harbor was a loving and accepting community. This was the perfect representation of it.
She watched Daniel lead Chantelle up to the menorah and explain what he was doing. He used the middle candle to light the other eight before placing it back in its central position. Ever the student, Chantelle watched with keen interest, soaking up another piece of her history. She listened with intent as Daniel said a blessing, then she placed the dollar he’d given her in the dish.
Just then, the choir master came over and collected Chantelle, ushering her to a position in the wings so she was ready to take to the stage when called. Daniel saw her off and then came and joined Emily in the pew.
“That was beautiful,” Emily said when Daniel sat. “Watching you two share in lighting the menorah.”
“We should get one for the inn,” Daniel said. “Do it properly.”
Emily was intrigued. Daniel had only recently told her he was Jewish; now he seemed to be getting into the Chanukah spirit.
“It’s been years since I’ve taken part in any kind of Jewish tradition,” he continued. “But seeing the menorah there brought it all back to me. I want Chantelle to enjoy those moments like I did as a kid. I want to pass that on to her. Maybe teach her a couple of hymns. Eat some donuts.”
“Okay, you have to be kidding now,” Emily said, laughing.
“I swear,” Daniel said. “They’re called sufganoit.”
Emily smiled. It made her so happy to hear Daniel get in touch with his past. He’d shared few stories with her, kept so much to himself. Anything he ever did divulge was usually the dark stuff, about his father leaving and his mother’s problems with alcohol. But as he recounted his fond moments of tradition, he seemed to come alive with brightness. The idea of bringing such joy to Chantelle was very appealing.
“You should teach me how to make them one day,” Emily said.
Just then, Father Duncan took to the pulpit to deliver his sermon. Everyone settled into the pews to listen to his words of love and compassion.
Just as it came up to midnight, the choir stood, ready to begin their hymns. Emily gripped Daniel’s arm as Chantelle emerged from the side like an apparition, holding a candle ahead of her, walking slowly with the choir. Then her bell-like voice rang out, echoing through the hall. The whole audience held their breath with awe as she sang her solo in her beautiful soprano voice.
Listening to Chantelle sing this evening moved Emily more than ever before. The crowd around them, too, seemed even more stunned than usual.
Then the rest of the choir joined in with Chantelle, their voices merging in perfect harmony. Everyone relaxed into the pews as the choir and Chantelle sang them into Christmas.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“Wake up, wake up, wake up! It’s Christmas!”
Emily startled awake to Chantelle’s excited cries. The little girl jumped onto the bed, hopping up and down on her knees.
“Shhh,” Emily said, laughing. “You’ll wake the guests!”
She glanced at her clock to see it wasn’t yet 5 a.m. Daniel was still asleep. Or at least pretending to be.
Emily fell back against the pillow with a groan. Two early starts in a row!
“Chantelle!” she murmured sleepily. “Couldn’t you have waited until it was at least light outside?”
But Chantelle wasn’t taking no for an answer. She bounced again on her knees, and this time it was enough to wake Daniel from his usual comatose sleep.
“What’s all this shouting about?” he said, one bleary eye open against the white pillow.
“It’s CHRISTMAS!” Chantelle screamed.
“R
eally?” Daniel joked. “I’d never have guessed.”
Clearly realizing that her dad wasn’t going to be easily roused, Chantelle grabbed Emily’s hand and started pulling on it. Emily had no choice but to get out of bed and follow the young girl downstairs.
“Can I put some coffee on first?” Emily asked with a yawn.
Chantelle folded her arms. “Grown-ups,” she said, rolling her eyes.
Emily laughed and quickly went into the kitchen to feed the dogs and brew some coffee. By the time the pot was gurgling, permeating the air with its fragrant aroma, Daniel had made it downstairs. He came up behind Emily and rested his hands on her hips, then kissed her neck.
“Merry Christmas,” he murmured.
Emily spun and wrapped her arms around him. “Merry Christmas.”
Emily felt overwhelmed with joy. This was their first Christmas together, and they were spending it engaged, with a beautiful child and a wonderful home. Never in a million years would she have expected her life to go this way.
She kissed Daniel deeply, passionately. Then she heard a small cough coming from the doorway. They broke apart to see Chantelle standing there, arms folded.
“I said you could get some coffee, not stand there kissing!” she exclaimed. “Come on! We have presents to open!”
Daniel and Emily exchanged an amused glance, then followed Chantelle to the living room to look inside their stockings.
“I’d better make a fire,” Daniel said, rubbing his hands together from the cold.
“Good idea,” Emily agreed. “And I’ll make some cinnamon hot cocoa.”
Chantelle’s eyes gleamed at the thought.
Once coffee and cocoa had been consumed, and the fire was alight and making them toasty warm, it was finally time to exchange gifts.
Chantelle rushed out of the room then came back with her arms laden with gifts. They were wrapped in pages of magazines and bits of tissue paper, with bows on the top and sparkly stickers stuck all over them.
