A Sweethaven Christmas

by Courtney Walsh

  “Hey, are you okay?” Luke leaned in closer, and only then did she realize she was crying.

  “My mom loved Christmas.” She wiped her cheeks dry as Adele shoved two tissues into her hand without looking away from the stage. Luke wrapped his arm around her and pulled her closer.

  “I’m sorry, Cam.”

  The song ended and Campbell forced herself to stop being so emotional. It turned out she really did miss her mother. She hadn’t expected her first Christmas without her mom to be this difficult, but when she wasn’t wondering about the ring she’d found, she was thinking about Mom. How much she missed her. Her mother always had a way of making her feel special. Luke did that for her now, but it wasn’t the same.

  The mayor appeared on the stage and Adele groaned. “Always with the mayor,” she said.

  Campbell laughed.

  “He’s everywhere,” Adele continued. “We can’t get away from him!”

  “I’ve got a very special surprise for you all tonight.” The mayor paused. A slow grin spread across his face as he looked back and forth across the crowd. Campbell’s pulse quickened.

  “I’d like to welcome to the stage, someone you all know and love . . .”

  Luke sat up straighter, as if he was preparing for something.

  “Someone we sure are proud of around here . . .”

  Murmurs passed through the crowd as people began to speculate, but the mayor remained silent in front of the microphone, allowing the anticipation to build.

  Finally, he raised a hand. “Ladies and gentlemen, help me welcome to the stage Sweethaven’s own Meghan Rhodes!”

  Cheers erupted through the crowd, followed by whistles and shouts of “We love you, Meghan” as Luke’s sister emerged from the back of the gazebo, guitar strung around her neck.

  Jane leaned forward. “It’s been so long since I’ve heard her sing.”

  Adele sprang to her feet. “Me too. Too long.”

  Campbell stood alongside Luke, applauding, because while Meghan had become something of a fixture in Sweethaven again, it wasn’t every day the famous singer performed for them. For free, no less.

  Meghan waited for the crowd to quiet and then cleared her throat in the microphone. “Thank you, everyone,” she said. “I’m so happy to be back in Sweethaven for the holidays.”

  In the distance, Campbell saw the camera crew, lenses pointed at Meghan. The Christmas special. They must’ve wanted footage of Meghan doing what she did best—performing.

  “This is the first stage I ever sang on.” Meghan’s words were met with more cheers and applause. “So when I found out they wanted to film a Christmas special at my house, I told the producers all about you guys and about Sweethaven and about how special it is to be here during this time of year.”

  Luke squeezed Campbell’s hand, and just like that she didn’t feel lonely anymore. Meghan spoke the truth—it was a special place to be for the holidays, and for the first time in a long time, Campbell felt like she was a part of a community, and she savored that moment.

  “Before I begin, I want to ask someone to join me up here on the stage.” Meghan winked in their direction and Campbell’s eyes widened. “You may not know it, but I’m not the only musical one in my family.” Meghan grinned. “My brother Luke—the guy who serves you your coffee—is a man of many talents, so he’s agreed to sing one of our favorite Christmas songs with me tonight. Ladies and gentlemen, Luke Barber!”

  The crowd erupted and Luke stood. He glanced down at Campbell and smiled and then jogged to the stage. He took his place behind a keyboard.

  “I haven’t heard them sing together in ages,” Adele said.

  “Luke sings?”

  How had she not known? What else didn’t she know about him? Was this what all the secrecy was about? A song?

  She’d been worried about him proposing while he’d been nervous about performing in front of the entire town.

  “My little brother hasn’t done this in a while,” Meghan said to the audience. “So, be gentle.”

  Luke leaned toward the microphone. “I can keep up with you, Meg.”

  Laughter dotted the crowd, and Campbell shook her head. How had she not known Luke was a musician? He had a piano at his place, but he’d never played it for her. He’d never even sung along with the radio.

  “When we were kids,” Meghan said, “we sang together as a family, but we haven’t had the chance to do that in a long time. I wanted to share a little bit of my family with the town I love so much.”

  Luke started playing, the melody of “O Holy Night” hovering overhead, and then the band joined in as Meghan began singing, her deep, raspy voice the perfect complement to one of Campbell’s favorite songs.

  One of Mom’s favorite songs.

  When Meghan reached the second stanza, Luke joined in, his surprising baritone the perfect harmony. Together, the two of them mesmerized the entire audience—Campbell included. They sounded like they’d been singing together forever, and the power of their voices filled Campbell with so much emotion the tears sprang back to her eyes.

  For a fleeting moment, she imagined her mother at her side, arm wound through hers, blinking back tears as the song moved on.

  “You love him, don’t you, Cam?” Mom would say. She’d come right out and say what she thought—it’s the way she was. She always had a way of helping Campbell realize her emotions.

  “But it hasn’t been long enough to know I love him,” Campbell would say, certain her feelings were something less real. Love was too scary.

  Mom would shrug then and purse her lips like she did when she was deep in thought. “When you know, you know.”

  Campbell watched Luke as the passion of the song filled him. He seemed to forget anyone could see him at all. As they went in for their big finish, the crowd started to stand, as if the music had driven them to their feet. As the song ended, Luke opened his eyes and smiled at her.

  And for the first time, she realized her own disappointment that Luke hadn’t stood on that stage to propose to her.

  Because what Mom would’ve said would’ve been true.

  In only six months time, Luke Barber had won the key to her heart. Campbell Jane Carter was truly, madly, deeply in love.

  Lila

  While the rest of the town sat beneath the stars enjoying the Sweethaven Christmas concert, Lila sat at a small table in the deserted Main Street Café. Only one employee worked behind the counter—a skinny kid with droopy eyes. Luke must’ve given everyone else the night off.

  She’d replayed her conversation with her father over and over again, though she’d tried to put it out of her mind. She hadn’t even realized how hurt she was over the idea of her father having other children—and grandchildren—until the moment the words spewed from her mouth. But there they were.

  Last night, as she rehashed the whole scenario to Tom, she cried and told herself to get it together.

  “I’m an adult, and he’s been letting me down my entire life. Why is this any different?”

  Tom held her as they stared up at the ceiling of their room at the Whitmore. “Hurt is hurt, hon,” he’d said. “Doesn’t matter how old you are.”

  When would her parents’ grip on her ever loosen? When would she stop trying to measure up—trying to please them and be who they thought she should be?

  Her thoughts turned to the way she lived her life in Macon. Junior League. Community Board. Social events where she would be seen. Even her home had been decorated to please other people. At her core, Lila had always wanted something cozy and lived in—something like Adele’s house, which boasted none of the flash or wealth that she’d grown accustomed to.

  The cottage she and Tom bought would be different. It would be exactly what she’d always wanted. Maybe she’d even buy something from Adele’s store. And Mama would hate it and that was just fine with her.

  She needed to find the courage to stand up for her own ideas—in her home and in her life.

  The
bell above the door chimed, pulling Lila’s attention. Her breath caught in her throat as the woman she’d been avoiding—her sister—walked in, focused on Droopy Eyes behind the counter. Lila pressed her lips together and remembered how Mama had spoken to the woman in the store the other day.

  If she wanted to start being the opposite of Cilla Adler, now was the perfect time.

  The woman ordered as Lila enjoyed a few more moments of anonymity. Tall and thin, she did resemble Daddy, in much the same way that Lila did. They both had shoulder-length blonde hair and fair skin. Lila had never had a sister before—and for a brief moment, she wondered if the two of them had anything in common.

  The woman paid for her drink, then moved down the counter toward the pick-up. As she did, her eyes swung in Lila’s direction and she quickly looked away.

  For the first time since their conversation in the bathroom on Thanksgiving, Lila stopped wallowing in her own self-pity and wondered what this woman had been through. Assuming Daddy was her father, what had this woman’s life been like without him? Had Daddy even tried to stay in touch? And did Lila have any right to defend Tom for abandoning Campbell but crucify Daddy for doing the same?

  She waved the deep thoughts away and chose instead to focus on the person who stood in front of her.

  Lila stood and smoothed her slacks, noting the hard knot her stomach had become. She’d started showing, and while she expected to hate getting bigger, she could only find excitement for the promise her growing stomach held.

  Standing behind her sister, Lila cleared her throat and braced herself for what came next.

  The woman turned toward her but didn’t make eye contact. “I know. You don’t want me here anymore,” she said. “Your mother made that clear. Don’t worry, I’m leaving.” She turned away, staring at the kid making her drink, likely willing him to hurry it up already.

  “Would you join me for a cup of coffee?” Lila’s hands fell to her belly. “Or tea.”

  Her sister met her eyes, searching for an explanation, probably trying to detect a trap. Lila didn’t blame her for being suspicious. After the way Mama had treated her, it made sense.

  “I guess,” she said, taking her drink from Droopy Eyes.

  Lila returned to her table and sat down after her sister took a seat.

  “You’re not at the concert,” the woman said.

  “I didn’t feel like braving the crowd.”

  Silence hung between them as Lila began to regret her choice to approach her in the first place.

  “I’m Charlotte, by the way,” the woman said.

  Charlotte. Her sister Charlotte.

  “I’m Lila.”

  “I know. It’s nice to meet you.” She laughed. “I guess that’s not really true, is it?” There was a beat of silence between them.

  “I’m sorry if my being here has hurt you. That wasn’t my intention.”

  “What was your intention?” Lila winced. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound angry.”

  “It’s okay. I’m sure it’s a shock to you.” Charlotte sipped her drink from a disposable cup. She swallowed, then smiled through a look of sadness. She set her cup down and fished around in her purse for something.

  Lila watched as Charlotte pulled a small photograph from her purse, stared at it with a wistful smile and then set it on the table, face up. “This is my daughter.”

  A pang of jealousy clawed at Lila. “She’s beautiful.”

  “She’s sick.”

  Lila frowned.

  “Aplastic anemia. The drugs aren’t working. She needs a bone marrow transplant.”

  Lila studied Charlotte as she took the photo back and wedged it inside her billfold. When she met Lila’s gaze, Charlotte’s eyes had filled with tears.

  “Believe me,” she said. “I would never come to him unless I had no other option.”

  “I see.” All this time, Lila had been so concerned with how this scenario made her feel—she hadn’t considered there could be a reason for Charlotte’s appearance. A horrible reason. Her thoughts turned to the day Jane lost Alex. She couldn’t bear the thought that any mother would have to go through that.

  “It was a bad idea,” Charlotte said.

  Lila shook her head. “I understand.”

  Charlotte swiped a tear. “My family is everything to me. I had to at least try.”

  “Is he a match?”

  “I don’t know. He hasn’t been tested.” Charlotte pulled a tissue from her purse and dabbed at the corners of her eyes. “I don’t think she’ll let him.”

  Lila closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath. How could Mama be so cruel? How could Daddy be so spineless?

  “Did he know about you?” Lila asked. “All this time?”

  Charlotte nodded.

  Lila gripped her hot cup between her hands. “He lied to me,” she said quietly.

  Charlotte scoffed. “He wasn’t the only one lying.”

  Lila shot her a look. “What do you mean?” Her mind raced. “Who else lied?”

  Charlotte looked away.

  “Charlotte, my—our—father has never been faithful to my mother. I always assumed his mistresses knew what they were getting into, sleeping with a married man, but I suppose it’s different when there’s a child involved.”

  Charlotte’s brows drew together as a confused look swept across her face. “Lila, my mother wasn’t the mistress.”

  “What do you mean?” Lila’s pulse kicked up a notch.

  “Your mother was.”

  Lila

  The next day, Lila couldn’t stop thinking about what Charlotte had told her. If it was true, Mama and Daddy hadn’t only been dishonest, they’d been horrible. But how did she prove any of it?

  Her phone rang and she saw Mama’s picture pop up. Tom glanced at her from across their room at the Whitmore where he sat, reading a book. “Don’t answer it.”

  She hadn’t told him about Charlotte yet. He didn’t understand how badly she needed to know the truth.

  Lila held the phone in her hand like it was a foreign object that had cast a spell on her. Finally, she clicked it on. “Hello?”

  “Where are you?” Mama sounded annoyed.

  “I’m at the Whitmore with Tom. Why?”

  “Did you forget the March of Dimes fund-raiser?”

  Lila sighed. “I’m not coming, Mama.”

  Mama sighed and Lila imagined the look on her face. “When are you going to stop this nonsense?”

  Lila bit the inside of her lip to keep from spewing the words that flittered through her mind. Tom stood, a look of concern on his face. “Lila, hang up the phone,” he whispered.

  “I’ll pay you for the tickets. I have to go.” She clicked the phone off. “I don’t even know how to respond to her.”

  Tom walked over to her. “You can’t carry this stress around. You’re driving yourself crazy.”

  “There’s only one way to find out the truth,” Lila said. She grabbed her purse from the desk.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Where are we going?”

  He frowned. “I’m not going anywhere. And you shouldn’t either.”

  “Tom, if you want me to stop stressing about this, then help me find out the truth.”

  He stared at her for a few long moments and then finally stood. “Only because I’m afraid of what you’re going to do if I don’t chaperone.”

  They drove in silence to the lake house, and when they reached the end of the driveway, Lila made him slow down—just to be sure her parents really were out at the fund-raiser.

  “Okay, you can park. This won’t take long.”

  “What are we doing here?” Tom asked, turning off the ignition.

  “Don’t you find it strange that Mama never had the big white wedding?” Lila retrieved a spare key from underneath a statue on the front porch and shoved it in the lock, letting herself in.

  Tom followed her, a baffled look on his face. “I can honestly say the thought has never cross
ed my mind.”

  Lila went straight for her father’s study and moved the computer mouse around until the screen sprang to life.

  “This is crazy. What are you looking for?”

  Lila stopped and looked at him. “Charlotte said—”

  “Charlotte?”

  “My sister.”

  Tom’s eyebrows shot up.

  “Haven’t you heard? I have a sister now.”

  “Of course I know about your sister, but when did you talk to her?”

  “At Luke’s café. She said that her mother was married to my father and he cheated on her with my mother.”

  Tom frowned. “Your parents have been together forever. Was your father married right out of high school?”

  Lila clicked around on the computer, looking through Daddy’s files. “What if he was? What if the other woman was his childhood sweetheart and my mother, the one who’s been playing the victim all these years, the one who said she had no knowledge of Charlotte, was the real home wrecker?”

  Tom sighed and sat on the couch. “I suppose it all makes sense. Your parents’ marriage has always been a wreck.”

  “I can’t prove anything unless I can find the marriage license. I know there’s a way to find all of this online, but I’m going straight to the source.”

  “What are you trying to prove?”

  Lila slumped on the ground. “That they’ve been lying. That they need to own up to all of it and tell the truth—and try to make it right.” She sighed. “Tom, I’ve spent years trying to live up to Mama’s standards, only to find out that everything she harped on me not to be—she was. She’s a fraud.”

  “Why do you think she harps on it so much? She doesn’t want you to make the same mistakes she made.”

  But Tom didn’t know Mama like Lila did. Mama had always been critical and controlling. She’d made Lila feel like she’d never measure up.

  “Now you can stop trying to be who she wants you to be and start being who you are.”

  Lila frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You weigh every decision by her standards. Even the nursery back home. When you said you wanted to do brown and light green, she talked you into finding out if we were having a girl or boy. For decorating purposes.”