“You mean because it’s got holes in it? I want a pretty tree.”
“It is pretty.” Noelle negotiated a knot of three teens carrying Styrofoam cups topped with candy canes in their hot drinks. She took Evelyn’s side, literally, splaying her fingers over the top of her knit cap. “I’m with Evvy.”
Settling this kind of argument was a pleasure, compared to the divorces he usually handled, or the court battles for kids like Milo. “We could buy two trees,” he said. “One for us, and one for Noelle.” He turned a grin toward the woman whose soft heart had sent her to Evelyn. “I noticed last weekend you didn’t seem to have decorated yet.”
She looked down, but then up again. “I guess I was busy, with moving back home and working on the house, but I’d like the tree. Thank you for the offer.” She hugged Evvy. “I don’t want it to sit alone here for the holidays either.”
Her father had died three months ago. She’d been grieving. He could understand not having the emotional energy to put up a tree for the holidays.
David flagged down the college-aged boy who was helping people carry trees to their vehicles.
“We have to find a way to put two on top of my car.” He eased Margaret out of the way. “Noelle, do you want to stop for dinner with us?”
“With the trees on the car?” She helped the boy with one end of hers. “Maybe we should just pick up something. Or I can make you hamburgers at my place.”
“Yay.” Evelyn surprised them all. Startled to find everyone staring at her, she shrugged. “Well, I like ‘em.”
For once, when they drove through town, the girls were interested in the small shops and lights strewn across the roads. On either side of the back seat, they pressed their faces to the windows, oohing at the bulbous, wire snowmen and reindeer along the sidewalks.
“Daddy, can we come back for the parade?” Margaret asked. “Then I might get to see Santa.”
“We could have stopped at the gazebo,” Noelle said, turning in her seat.
“Evelyn doesn’t like him, so we aren’t going there, but I still want to talk to him. How can he know what we want if I don’t ask him?”
“You could write him a letter,” Noelle said.
“I think it’s too late. Besides, I can’t find a whole address. I don’t think the North Pole is enough.”
David glanced in the rear view mirror at his girls, Evelyn unnaturally still again, and her sister touching him with her hopeful expression. “Margaret, you and I could visit Santa on our own.”
“Could we?” She peered at her twin. Evelyn looked mutinous. “I don’t think so,” Margaret said. “Evvy thinks he’s bad luck or something.”
“Evvy, maybe you think Santa will let you down again?” David asked.
“Uh-huh.” She wiped the palm of her glove through the condensation on her window.
“But maybe he won’t?”
Beside him in the front, Noelle clenched her hands in her lap. She probably knew he wasn’t just talking about Santa Claus.
“He doesn’t mean for any child to feel left out,” David said. “You remember I grew up in an orphanage?”
Noelle shifted around as if her seat were suddenly uncomfortable. Margaret leaned forward. “But it wasn’t a scary one?”
“No.” He’d never told them the truth, that he’d been afraid to sleep sometimes. That he’d fought more often than he liked to remember. “But Santa’s bag was kind of small for making deliveries in such a big place. We always worried he’d forget us. Sometimes he didn’t bring exactly what we wanted, but he always brought something.”
“He tried,” Noelle said. “You can always be sure he’ll try.”
Her way of saying David might not always succeed either?
“Miss Noelle, did you stay in Daddy’s orphanage?” Margaret asked.
“Sometimes. Sometimes I stayed with other families.”
David could have kicked himself. Santa probably hadn’t meant to hurt feelings either, but David had done it again. Noelle hated being reminded of her past in that place. Or the families who hadn’t understood she was too afraid to let her guard down. They’d brought her back as if she were some puppy that grew too inconvenient for the household.
Most people wouldn’t treat a puppy like that.
“We met in the orphanage, and Noelle became my best friend.”
“How come we never saw you before?” Evelyn asked.
“I live here. You’ve lived in Boston. I must have been busy when you and your Daddy were here.”
“And Mommy,” Margaret said.
“When you all came,” Noelle agreed. “But I got to meet you this time, and I’m glad.”
“So am I.” Evelyn swung her feet high enough to hit the back of David’s seat. She hadn’t been foot-swinging happy in a long time.
Margaret giggled. Noelle, surprised, but happy, turned to smile at David, and he wondered if Santa might be hearing his holiday wishes through the ether.
As they turned in at the Wright place, Sam Collins and Marnie were locking up the Bells Are Ringing wedding chapel. With twinkling lights reflecting on the snow, and boughs of ribbon-tied evergreens on the door, the place was an extension of the year-round celebration in Christmas Town.
“Should we offer them a ride?” He slowed the car, but the two were holding hands, so enthralled with each other, he and his car full of trees and lovely ladies might not have been there at all.
“I think we should give them privacy.” Noelle sounded wistful, looking away from her sister. “If they come up to the house, we’ll ask them to help decorate.” She glanced in the back at the weary twins. Even he could see they were seconds from falling asleep. “Not that you have to stay and help.”
“Yes we do,” Evelyn said, her voice slurring. “You’re all alone.”
“I’m not, though. I have my sisters. They’ll come home and help me.”
“I want to help,” Margaret said, stirring to peer through the window again. “Evvy, too.”
“Don’t like Evvy.”
David shared a grin with Noelle, but then she pointed at the clock on his dashboard. The night had fallen while they’d wrestled the trees onto his roof. He couldn’t argue that it was late, and a responsible father should get his daughters home.
“We wouldn’t have time to do two tonight,” Noelle said.
But she could come with them. He made a deal with himself. If the girls asked, he’d second their invitation for Noelle to help them with their tree. If the twins didn’t ask, he’d consider it fate, telling him to back off and give Noelle space to think of how right today felt.
Fate kicked him in the teeth with total silence.
Not total. He made a lot of noise getting the Charlie Brown tree into the house. Noelle helped him lean it against a wall in the living room, where the same chintz sofas held court, faded now, but as soft and squishy as they’d been when he’d sought refuge at Noelle’s home as a boy and a younger guy.
“Thanks,” she said, when they found the perfect balance to keep it from sliding over the wide, plank floor. “It’ll be fine here. I’ll go up to the attic and find the tree stand after you leave.”
“I should help you put it in. This thing may have fewer branches than a real tree,” he said teasing her with a grin, “but it’s heavy.”
“It’s the perfect real tree, and I can manage on my own. Give me hugs, little girlies.”
Margaret and Evelyn crowded close and hugged her. David came next, smiling as his children tumbled down the hall toward the front door.
“You could come with us,” he said, despite himself. “Help us decorate.”
She wrapped her arms around her own waist, as if to hold herself in check, but just when he thought she’d give in, when he let himself hope she’d begun to believe in him, she shook her head. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“Not a good idea? But you want to come?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You’ve convinced yoursel
f you shouldn’t? Are you thinking of giving us a chance, Noelle?”
“I think the girls are waiting for you.”
It was enough. They had a few days until Christmas. He leaned toward her and pressed his lips to her temple. Her sweet fragrance reminded him of when she’d loved him, and he hadn’t cherished her.
“I’ll see you again soon,” he said, stirring the silky strands of her hair with his breath.
Chapter 6
It might have been a good thing the girls and David weren’t here while she’d wrestled the tree into its stand.
Wedding chapels didn’t get restored without work, and big, puffy Santa donuts didn’t bake themselves. And then the chapel had caught fire, burning the sisters’ holiday spirits with it. First their parents and then Marnie had put so much heart into it. Noelle shouldn’t have been surprised that Marnie had decided to rebuild with the help of Sam and other Christmas Town volunteers.
The prospect of decorating wasn’t as much fun without Chloe or Marnie, or David and the twins. But her poor, sad tree might give up and heave all its needles to the floor if she didn’t provide water. Noelle had found the stand and cajoled, eased, puzzled, and silently thought extremely bad words as she got the tree into position. At last, she sat back on her heels, noticing several pine needles in her peripheral vision, and discovered the tree was leaning like the tower in Pisa.
Before she could say any of those words out loud, the bell rang. She struggled to her feet, apparently unsteady after several prods from wayward branches and a liberal dousing of evergreen fragrance. In the foyer, she yanked at the needles in her hair and then opened the door.
David, bearing an unmistakable pizza box, and the girls, each carrying a small brown bag, stood on the porch of brick pavers. She must look even worse than she feared. They all studied her as if she’d brought the Christmas Town version of the zombie apocalypse to life.
“I put the tree up,” Noelle said.
“You did need us,” Margaret said.
David laughed. Evelyn just muscled inside, to see the damage for herself.
“Hey,” David called after her, “this isn’t your house.”
“Can I come in, Miss Noelle?”
“Help yourself. Stay away from that tree, though. I’m not sure it won’t fall.”
“I’d better check it.” David shoved the pizza into her stomach.
She paused to check the flavor. Pepperoni and mushroom. Her favorite, and plenty for everyone. “While you make the tree safe, I’ll lay out dinner,” she said.
And then she realized they were all acting if this was normal.
~*~
Somehow, Noelle let them take up where they’d left off the night they’d picked up the trees. After they ate, she brought down boxes of ornaments.
“I’ll put up the lights first.” David plugged in the strand. “These old-fashioned ones don’t work if one of the bulbs burns out.”
“They’re so pretty,” Noelle said. “I like the bigger bulbs.”
“Me, too.” Evelyn was untangling another strand. “Ours aren’t like this. I don’t like our balls and things as much either.”
“These have been in my family a long time.” Noelle gently unwrapped the blown glass ornaments, setting each snowflake and bird and roly poly Santa on the coffee table.
Margaret hopped to her feet. “We have something for you.” She grabbed Evelyn, and they retrieved the bags they’d carried in. “We wanted to say thank you for letting us hang out with you.”
They both opened their bags and each pulled out a bell, one red and one green, both blown glass, and each with glittery, bubbly snow piled up on its top.
Delight lit the room even more brightly for Noelle. “They look as if they’ve always been here with the rest. Thank you. They’re perfect.” She hugged the girls. Over their heads she mouthed “Thank you” to David.
His smile was as gentle and loving as she remembered from the best days of their time together.
She should have turned away, but she couldn’t. She was happy here, holding his two girls close, daring just for a second to let herself fall in love with him a little bit.
“Back to work,” he said, his tone husky.
After David wrapped the tree in lights, Noelle and Margaret and Evelyn put up the ornaments. Laughing, they all flung icicles at the branches.
“I always try to make it pretty at first,” Noelle said, “but I get a little bored.”
“Can we turn on the lights?” Evelyn went to her dad.
“I’ll get them.” Noelle climbed behind the tree and found the plug. She put it in the socket and leaned out to see David and his daughters, their faces tinted by the glowing lights, their wonder as pure as all children’s.
“Lovely,” Noelle said.
David turned to her, and they shared the sweet affection that had been theirs alone from the first day they’d met.
“Can we go color, Miss Noelle?” Margaret asked.
“Oh, yeah.” Evelyn started for the stairs, and both girls raced, the way Noelle and David used to, trying to reach the playroom first.
“Thanks for letting us stay,” David said.
“Thanks for staying.” Her face felt warm as she opened the box of ornaments again. “We’re not finished.”
They put up the handprints, pressed in plaster that Noelle and Marnie and Chloe had made for their parents when their hands were as small as Evelyn and Margaret’s. They added stars made from popsicle sticks to the tree and tacked up twinkling lights around the kitchen walls and the dining room table.
“You all are welcome to join us on Christmas Day,” Noelle said, feeling her heart pretty much literally jumping in the back of her throat.
“I’m going to say yes in a hurry before you can change your mind.” He came around the table. “These days have been special,” he said. “Not just for my daughters, although they haven’t been as happy in a long time.”
“I’m happy, too,” she said, “but it’s the holidays. We shouldn’t mistake Christmas spirit for something more.”
“I’m not. I tell you, the day I stood in that courtroom with Milo, I knew I’d risked losing my daughters because I’d left them one more time, and I finally understood why I lost you. I changed. Give me a chance to show you that we can be more than enemies, maybe more than friends.”
His breath on her face warmed her, entreated her. But she had to be smart. “You’re one of the people I lost,” she said. “Like the mother who dumped me under that gazebo when I was a baby, and all the almost parents and siblings who didn’t want me in the end. I can’t do that any more. I did it over and over with you—loved you and waited for you and believed in you. And you didn’t show up.”
“I’m not the same guy. I don’t want to be.”
“Only time will tell”
But she didn’t back away, and he felt hope.
“Noelle?” So close, he was drowning in the sweet fragrance of her shampoo, in the magic of memories that could be part of their past together again, not spikes of regret because he was always torn between two choices with the people he loved.
“You asked me to help you give Margaret and Evelyn a loving Christmas. That’s all I’ve promised.”
His phone rang. He ignored it. He had one choice tonight. Noelle. The woman he’d loved and tried to forget. Noelle and his girls were his priority.
“Can’t we try again?” he asked. “Coming home only felt as if it were real when I saw you. I’m not asking you to throw away everything and trust me. I’m asking you to let me prove you can trust.”
“What about Margaret and Evelyn?” She lifted her lovely face. Her flushed cheeks gave away the emotion hidden behind her serene tone. “We couldn’t give them the hope of a family only to snatch it away.”
“We’ll be careful about them.” Again the phone rang. A pointed reminder. “I was the one who let other things come between us. I’ve always chosen the situations and people who seemed to need my help so much I
couldn’t turn my back.” He laughed wryly. “That sounds vain.”
“No. It’s true, but someday you have to choose your own life. I chose here and family because we were together in Boston, but you weren’t with me.” She glanced at his pocket where the phone went silent. “It wasn’t all your fault. I did run away. I needed more, and I didn’t know how to make more out of my own life.”
“Then we’ve both changed.”
His phone rang again, and Noelle turned away from him, her expression a mixture of relief and regret. She went to the door as if to listen for Margaret and Evvy. He turned the phone up so he could see the notification on its face.
Dread formed a fist in his gut.
“I have to get it,” he said. “It’s Violet, Milo’s mother.”
She looked at him, wary because they both knew he had no choice.
He swiped the Answer icon and lifted the handset to his ear. “Violet?”
“He’s gone.”
“Gone?” The twinkling lights and faint scent of pizza began to fade. “You mean someone came for him? Did they rescind his bail?”
“He left. We were decorating the tree, and we made some fudge. I went upstairs to wrap his gifts, but when I came back down he was gone. I thought he might be in his room, but when I went to check, he’d left, and he took his things.”
“He still doesn’t have a gift for you. Maybe he’s trying to sell something.”
“He’s gone, David. I’m sorry for interrupting, but please come help me. I can’t call the police, and you’ve found him before.”
He hesitated. If she called the police, they’d take Milo in and Judge Shepard would bury him. But Noelle and his daughters were his priority. His family.
“Violet, I—”
“I promised I’d take care of my son, but no matter what I try, I’m not doing a good job. I can’t find him on my own. Don’t make me beg you.”
Her voice must have flooded the room because Noelle stared at the phone and then started down the hall toward the stairs.
He wanted to stay with her. He wanted her to know she came first with his daughters.
A Heartwarming Christmas: A Boxed Set of Twelve Sweet Holiday Romances Page 21
