by Lori Wilde
All on her own.
And what if she doesn’t?
Joe gulped. Then Gabi was right. He was just the instrument in her personal growth, not her life partner, and he had to accept that. The thought carved a deep and painful hole in his gut, but she was all he cared about.
For now his only goal was to make sure the remainder of her time in Twilight was filled with love, tenderness, and Christmas delight. All he could do was show her how much he loved her and let his action speak his words.
The days remaining leading up to Christmas passed so fast, Gabi blinked and they were gone. On the twenty-second, Gramps came home from the rehab center to Joe’s parents’ house and she went with Joe to welcome him home. On the twenty-third, she finished her Christmas shopping, getting presents for everyone in Joe’s family, and spent the evening wrapping gifts with Emma and her friends, sipping wine and listening to Christmas carols.
The morning of the twenty-fourth, she and Casey helped Joe at the Christmas tree farm as the folks who traditionally put their trees up on Christmas Eve swarmed the farm. Joe put a “Closed” sign on the gate at noon, sent his farmhand Lee home to his family, dusted his palms together, and said, “Another season over and done,” a wistful note creeping into his voice.
He smiled at Casey and Gabi and gathered them up for a group hug. “I couldn’t have done it without my girls.”
Joy filled Gabi’s heart and her mind plucked at hopeful what-if fantasies. What if she could come back next year? What if she could come back the year after that and the year after that and … ? What if she never left?
She had nothing waiting for her in LA. Her parents were there, sure, but they had their own lives. She had no job. She’d left law school.
And yet, she had nothing here either. Sure, there was this adorable town that had wormed its charming way into her heart. There was Joe, who caused her pulse to beat wildly whenever she looked at him, and Casey, who had captured her heart so easily.
Except that she had no job, and Joe had not asked her to stay.
That’s because you headed him off at the pass. You didn’t give him a chance.
She had to leave. Only distance could give her the perspective she needed. It had certainly worked in regard to her life in LA. Now she knew her decision to quit law school was the right one.
But what now?
She stuffed the question to the back of her mind, refusing to dwell on it and ruin the holiday. She was here in the moment. That’s what was now. She didn’t need to know anything else.
“Go get the packages we bought for your mom,” Joe told Casey. “She’s allowed visitors today.”
“I’ll see you two when you get back,” Gabi said.
“You’re not coming with us?” Reaching around behind her back, Casey picked up her left foot with her right hand and hopped around.
Gabi smiled gently to ease the child’s anxiety. “I think only close family members are allowed to visit.”
“But you could drive with us, wait for us.” Casey bobbed her head, agreeing with herself.
Joe looked at Gabi, his eyes soft, eyes that said, Please, she needs you. I need you.
“Let me just go change my clothes,” she said, gesturing at her jeans and sweater dusted with bark and pine needles.
The road to Fort Worth was crowded with rushing travelers, driving eager and restless, tense and excited. The alcohol and drug rehab center was a plain listless building. No glamorous celebrities crashed at Bright Horizons. But inside it was clean and the staff was efficient and firm, but kind.
Gabi waited in the reception area while Joe and Casey were escorted back into the visitors’ room. A holiday special was on the TV about Christmas in countries around the world. An attendant offered her coffee. She sipped it until it grew cold. Felt out of place.
The room was overly warm, air rattling through the heating ducts. Tucked into a corner sat a fortyish redhead with a Bonnie Raitt gray streak at the peak of her hairline, wearing a flowy boho blouse, multiple necklaces and rings, and nicotine stains on her fingers.
“You’re very calm,” the woman said. “I love the way you’re able to sit without moving. Are you a Buddhist?”
“It’s an act,” Gabi admitted. “My insides are upside-down.”
“Well, you don’t look it.”
“What a nice compliment. Thank you.”
“You the stepmother?”
“No.”
“His girlfriend?” The woman looked in the direction of the door Joe had disappeared through.
“Something along those lines.”
“Me too.” The woman blew out her breath. “It’s hard. Loving a man who’s tangled up with an addict. This is my man’s ex-wife’s third stint here.”
“Third time’s a charm?” Gabi said.
“Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. Fool me three times …”
“What?”
The woman shrugged, but there was pain in her eyes. “After five years it gets old.”
“Maybe this time it will take.”
“I’m all out of hope.”
“But you’re here,” Gabi said.
“Because I love him and his kids.”
Gabi shifted in her seat, a hiccup bubbled up inside her.
“I’ve disturbed your peace,” the woman said.
“No,” Gabi denied. “He’s not really my boyfriend. Our relationship is … casual.”
“And yet …” The woman smiled a tolerant smile that sent a flare of alarm spreading through Gabi. “… you’re here.”
The visit with Tatum was hopeful. She looked weary after detox, but her skin was bright and she smiled a lot. Smiled with honest sincerity. She held Casey on her lap the entire time, stroked the child’s hair, kissed her temple again and again, but not in a desperate way. Joe could see the joy in her eyes and he couldn’t help thinking that Tatum had finally come home to herself.
And when the counselor told him privately that Tatum was the most dedicated patient to getting sober that he’d seen in a long time, Joe had a good feeling about her recovery.
A very good feeling indeed.
Stepping out into the reception area to see Gabi rising to her feet, an encouraging smile on her face, Joe knew it was going to be his merriest Christmas ever. She was here with him. She was what was important. This wonderful, giving woman who’d been overlooked by her own family was not being overlooked anymore. Not when she was with him.
Because most of their children had young kids, Joe’s parents celebrated their family holiday on Christmas Eve.
By six P.M. the house was packed with five Cheek siblings and their significant others. Katie was the only one missing. All the trees in the house—there turned out to be thirteen!—were lit up. Scent candles danced from strategically placed holders, providing mood lighting and filling the air with the smells of pine, peppermint, and cinnamon. In the living room, the packages were piled so high there was barely room to walk among the furniture. The kids kept creeping into the room to read the name tags, scoping out which presents were theirs. A fire crackled in the fireplace and the mantel was loaded down with matching reindeer stockings, twenty-one in all, including one for Gramps. Gabi was surprised and delighted to see a stocking with her name on it, hung right next to Joe’s and Casey’s. It brought a momentary tear to her eye, but she blinked it away before anyone could see.
Joe squeezed her shoulder. She hadn’t fooled him. He knew this was an emotional moment for her. She closed her eyes and leaned back against him, breathing in his scent, feeling the solidity of his broad chest. Savored the moment.
Savored him.
Joe had bought Casey a special dress to wear for the occasion. She picked it out herself at the Teal Peacock. It was made of red velvet with a flared skirt that twirled when she walked. Casey kept swishing back and forth through the house, making that skirt twirl.
“She’s happy,” Gabi told Joe.
Joe gave her a dimpled, million-do
llar grin. “I know. Thanks for being there for her … For us.”
Her heart ballooned inside her chest. This was her final twenty-four hours in Twilight. But she wasn’t going to think about that. She was just going to soak up the love in the house, while experiencing the ultimate Christmas.
Gabi offered to help in the kitchen, but it was packed with people, and Lois told her to relax and enjoy the evening.
Dinner was served at seven. Twelve chairs at the large dining room table and a spot cleared for Gramps’s wheelchair. Two card tables were set up for the kids in the kitchen. The red and gold place settings outdid Martha Stewart—pinecones sprayed with red glitter held name tags, silverware tied up in raffia laced with gold jingle bells, red placemats over a gold tablecloth. The centerpieces were small pots of poinsettias interspersed with crystal vases filled with golden Christmas tree balls. Three roasted turkeys sat on the table alongside cornbread stuffing and giblet gravy, green beans almandine, spinach salad, butternut squash casserole, gingersnap sweet potatoes, yeast rolls, and cranberry relish, all of it homemade.
Everyone took their seats, and Bill Cheek said grace. Gabi bowed her head and gave thanks for her time with this lively, loving family and the incredible son they had produced. Then Bill set about carving the turkey and put meat on everyone’s plate. To serve the rest of the food they passed around plates and bowls family-style.
She looked around the table and her chest tightened all over again. The scene was something out of a Norman Rockwell painting. Although she’d hoped that such a place, such people existed, she never truly believed it. But it was as if Rockwell had sneaked right in, set up his easel in the corner, and captured the Cheeks forever on canvas.
They ate and laughed and bantered. Joe positioned his knee against Gabi’s, kept it pressed there throughout the dinner. After dessert of cherry cheesecake had been served, Bill poured sparkling cider for everyone and returned to the head of the table.
“Everyone make a toast. To family.” Bill shifted his gaze to Gabi. “And friends.”
“To Katie,” Lois said. “I hope she looks as happy in LA as you look here, Gabrielle.”
“To Lois and Bill for being the best-in-laws in the world,” Emma added.
“To Gabi,” Joe said, and turned to her, his glass lifted. “For bringing your shining light into my world.”
Her heart clutched, then hit fifth gear, revving hard after a stuttering jolt. “To the Cheeks,” she murmured. “The most welcoming people I have ever known.”
“To lots and lots of Christmas presents!” Casey shouted from the kitchen.
Everyone burst into laughter at that, and downed their cider.
With many hands pitching in, the table was cleared in short order and the group stuffed themselves into the living room. It was so full that wives sat on husbands’ laps and children knelt close to the Christmas tree, vibrating with excitement.
Bill brought out an oversized volume of A Christmas Carol and read it aloud. The kids wriggled and squirmed and fingered the packages but no one told them to settle down.
When the story was over, Lois said, “Have at it, kids!”
And the wrapping paper flew! In minutes a flurry of paper covered the floor. Children were hugging dolls and running toy cars over the floor and building things with LEGOs and playing inside boxes. Jenny’s youngest, one-year-old Haley, sat in the middle of it all happily gumming a bow.
Kids hugged parents and thanked them for their gifts and went back to playing.
“Love it!” Casey proclaimed over the red purse Gabi had gotten her. “It matches my dress.” She slung the purse over her shoulder and spun for effect.
Charlie, the oldest grandchild, then played Santa for the adults, passing out the presents as quickly as he could while keeping an eye on the gaming tablet computer he’d gotten for Christmas.
Gabi was touched to receive so many gifts. A lap blanket from Lois and Bill, sparkly earrings from Emma and Sam, a gift card to one of the boutiques on the square from Ben and his wife, lavender-scented body spray from Mac and Coco, homemade cranberry walnut bread from Jenny and Dean. From Gramps a pair of woolen socks.
And from Joe, a bag of Hershey’s kisses, with a card inside that read, “For when you get the hiccups and need a kiss and I’m not there.”
Those dratted tears again, misting up her eyes. “This is the perfect gift,” she said.
He leaned in to whisper, “I’ve got something special for you later,” he murmured in a sultry, sexy voice.
“Open mine, open mine.” Casey appeared before her, holding out a small box.
“You got me something? That’s so sweet of you.”
“Dad paid for it, but I picked it out.” Casey jutted her chin up proudly.
Slowly, Gabi undid the tape.
“Hurry, hurry.” Casey shifted from foot to foot. “Not to be rude, but just rip into it.”
Laughing, Gabi ripped the paper from the box. Casey grabbed the paper, fisted it into a ball, hopped around.
Millimeter by millimeter, she lifted the lid.
“OMG.” Casey smacked her forehead with her palm. “You are so slow.”
“Just torturing you,” Gabi teased.
“Well stop, okay?”
Gabi whisked off the lid. Inside was a gold locket.
“Open it,” Casey said, going up and down on tiptoes. “And don’t take all night. I wanna get back to my toys.”
Gabi thumbed open the locket. Inside was a picture of Casey.
“So you won’t forget me when you’re gone,” Casey said.
Gabi gazed at the girl’s wide brown eyes, the same color as Joe’s, and all the breath rushed out of her lungs. Immediately, she put it on, patted the weight of it against her chest. “This is so special. Thank you so, so much.”
Casey shrugged, but her face glowed happily. “You don’t have to oversell it.”
“I’m not,” Gabi declared. “I love it.” She pulled Casey close for a tight hug.
“Hey,” Casey protested, but she rested her cheek against Gabi’s shoulder. “I need to breathe, lady.”
Gabi let her go, and Casey raced back to the other kids, but before she dived into her gifts, she shot Gabi a huge grin.
It was after ten by the time they got Casey packed up and in the pickup for the drive home. She fell asleep in the back.
“You’re too heavy to carry,” Joe said, doing it anyway, lifting her up high in his arms.
Gabi gathered up the bags and trailed after them, caught up with them when Joe stopped to unlock the front door. Once inside, he put Casey on the floor. “Off to bed with you.”
“Wait, wait,” Casey said drowsily, barely able to keep her eyes open. “We hafta make kismet cookies again. It’s Christmas Eve.”
“Honey, it’s getting late,” Joe said. “If you want Santa to come, you better scoot to bed.”
Cupping her hand around her mouth, Casey leaned in to whisper to Gabi. “I don’t believe in Santa, but I don’t want to upset Dad.”
“We froze the dough when we made it the other day,” Gabi said. “It won’t take ten minutes to cook a batch, and besides, we have to have cookies to put out for Santa.”
“All right,” Joe relented. “But straight to bed the minute the cookies are done.”
Casey perked up and twenty minutes later, the cookies were finished and plated for Santa. Joe and Gabi tucked Casey into bed and a kismet cookie under her pillow. She was already asleep before they turned out the light.
She helped him put presents under the tree for Casey that they’d wrapped together and hidden in the closet.
“Well,” Gabi said when they were done. “I better go.”
“Why don’t you stay the night?” Joe asked. “Be here for Casey’s Christmas morning.”
“Do you think that’s wise?” Gabi’s heart bumped the back of her spine. “I’m leaving tomorrow night.”
“We kept our distance because we didn’t want to confuse her,” Joe said. “Bu
t she’s a strong kid. I didn’t really know how strong until I saw her today with Tatum. It was like Casey was the mother and Tatum the child. Besides, Casey knows you’re leaving. And …” He lowered his head to kiss her. “She knows how I feel about you. Now get your kismet cookie, woman, and come to bed.”
CHAPTER 27
The best of all gifts around any Christmas tree: the presence of a happy family all wrapped up in each other.
—Burton Hillis
They made love quietly, tenderly, and fell asleep in each other’s arms, and dreamed together, Christmas dreams.
Joe’s dream was unlike any dream he’d ever dreamed before. He dreamed of a wedding. His wedding. He was standing at the altar looking up the aisle as his bride came toward him on her father’s arm. He couldn’t see the father’s face because his eyes were transfixed on his bride.
Gabi shone in white, a beautiful light, and all he could think was I love this woman as I have never loved anyone.
And then he woke to find her gone, kismet cookie crumbs strewn about the sheets.
He found her dressed and sitting at the kitchen table eating cookies, drinking coffee, and wiping her eyes.
“Gabi,” he said, alarmed. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she said. “It’s perfect. Everything’s perfect. So perfect I had to cry.”
And it was the perfect time to tell her he loved her. Yes, it was too soon. Yes, she needed to work through her issues about being born to save her brother’s life and then being unable to save him. He knew that’s what she would say, but the words welled up in him, hard and right, and he just had to say them—
Casey tore into the room, headed straight for the tree. “Look at all the presents! Can I dig in?”
“Wait,” Gabi said, getting to her feet and bringing her coffee cup with her. “Until your dad can get the camera.”
When Joe opened the present she’d bought for him, he burst out laughing. “Where did you get this?”
“I had made it.”
“When did you have time?”
“I started it the day after we met,” she said. “To thank you for looking out for me. It was only after your parents’ Christmas party that I decided to add the design on the front.”
