The Christmas Kiss

by Virginia McCullough

  “Ruby sometimes brings him and Peach along when we work on grants and things. I like to keep plenty of activities around to entertain Jason so he’s happy while Ruby and I visit. When she has the baby, we’ll figure out a new routine to do grants and spend time together. I’ll want to help out.”

  “I’m sure you will.”

  As he got plates and bowls off the shelves in her cabinets, Parker felt oddly like he and Emma were hosting a party. Together.

  * * *

  “JASON’S DOWN FOR the count,” Parker said, arranging a pile of pillows and blankets on the floor in front of the couch. “I know that at his age he’s not likely to roll off, but if he does, it won’t be a hard fall.”

  Emma closed the blinds and followed Parker and Peach out of the room.

  “He fought so hard to stay awake,” Emma said, going into the kitchen. “Can you stay a while? Maybe have a glass of wine.”

  “Sure. I’m in no hurry to leave. I’m sure Nic is having a good time with her friends.”

  Good answer.

  While she opened a bottle of cabernet he took glasses out of the cabinet.

  “I like how you move around in my house like you’ve spent a lot of time here,” Emma said. She was conscious of the dimmed lights above the dining room table.

  “You make it easy.” Parker smiled. “Your home is like a person with long open arms.”

  Her heart beat harder in her chest. It took effort to steady her hand when she handed him the full glass. “That’s sweet of you to say.”

  “The house matches—literally. Think about it, Emma. It has this large open space in the center, and then two long wings, like open arms.”

  “When you put it that way, no wonder I like it so much.”

  “And then there’s the view. Come look outside.” Parker pointed to the December half-moon casting its light on the snow.

  “A perfect end to a day that had a few scary moments.” She sipped her wine and nodded to the outside. “My winter postcard. It can seem like the land really is asleep under that blanket of snow, just as sure as Jason is dreaming adventures on my couch.”

  She turned a chair to face the door that led to the backyard. “Let’s sit here. I need to get off my leg, but I don’t want to stop watching what’s going on right outside my door. I’ll douse the light so it’s even clearer.”

  Parker pulled both chairs closer to the doors.

  “It’s been a remarkable day in many ways,” Parker said. “I’ll make that the last couple of weeks.”

  “Oh? Tell me more.” Here in the dark with the moon lighting up the snow, everything was remarkable. They were dancing around something real, something good.

  “Working with you, sharing Thanksgiving with new friends, releasing the owl, my mom’s visit coming up. And then there was Jim bringing me the crow. Everything good going on comes back to you.” Parker took her hand. “Even hanging pictures was a good time.”

  She could make a joke, tease a little, but she didn’t want to. Instead, she said, “Yes, every moment is a good time.”

  Parker put his glass down and stood. He held out his other hand and Emma took it and rose to her feet. They wrapped their arms around each other as if their hearts were leading them to this next step. They held each other in the dark, quiet space. The kiss she knew was coming was everything she wanted, expected and so much more. She clung to him, bunching the fabric of his sweater in her fingers. They deepened the kiss and when they finally broke it, they both sighed happily together.

  “So much is happening between us,” Parker said.

  “Kind of hard to describe.” She looked into his eyes. “I can barely talk right now.”

  “Then we won’t,” he said, leaving a trail of soft kisses down her cheek to her neck before finding her lips.

  Emma’s heart was filled with new and wonderful feelings. She couldn’t talk, and yet she felt she had so much to share.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  EMMA SCRUBBED THE plastic grass, as Parker called it, and spread it out to dry on the counter next to the sink. Then she filled the bucket with soapy water to make sure it was clean. “When you said I’d spend more than half my bird time cleaning up after them you were right.” They both wore aprons and gloves. Emma had tucked her hair under a baseball cap.

  “It never ends, especially now that I’m certain we won’t be able to let the crow go free. But one bird or fifty, it seems the amount of work is always the same.”

  Parker’s phone buzzed. “There she is. Mom will be here in a few minutes.”

  “Good. She’ll get here before the snow starts,” Emma said. “And I’m ready for her.” Parker had finally stopped worrying about imposing on Emma. Instead, he’d taken a page from Nicole’s book and asked her to send pictures of Emma’s log house to Grandma Sharon and text about the luxury suite. She’d even sent a photo of the butterfly garden on Emma’s land.

  “You’re up for anything these days.”

  Her cheeks warmed from his intimate tone. “I suppose I am.” Between the birds, the perceptible shift in the town’s energy and Parker himself, Emma was content in a way she’d almost forgotten was possible.

  “Nic can hardly wait for her to get here.” Parker lined the pen with new paper and transferred the crow from the cage to the larger space. “Nic and my mom have had some unforgettable moments. Nic loved it when they put star stickers all over their faces and then went shopping like there was nothing different about them. Nic couldn’t stop laughing for days.”

  “People who were close to really fun grandparents seem to have an extra something in their childhood,” Emma said. “Mine lived nearby but were kind of formal and distant. They died fairly young, too.”

  Parker started to respond, but stopped abruptly and cocked his head toward the door. “I think I hear voices.”

  The door flew open. “She’s here,” Nicole announced with enthusiasm. “Emma, this is my Grandma Sharon...uh, Sharon Davis.”

  Chuckling, Emma held up her gloved hands. “I’d shake your hand, but I’ve been handling the bird.”

  “No surprise to me.” Sharon sniffed the air and wrinkled her nose. “I recognized the smell of a bird clinic from outside the building.”

  Parker grabbed a towel and wiped his hands, but Sharon shook her head. “I’m not waiting for my hug.” She threw her arms around him.

  “Oh, Mom,” Parker said, as he returned the hug.

  Emma stood back and watched the scene unfolding, including a three-way hug with Nicole.

  “I haven’t seen this guy for over a year,” Sharon explained, turning to Emma. “I couldn’t pass up a chance, especially when I was so close.”

  “Do you want to settle in your room at Emma’s,” Parker asked, “before we do anything else?”

  Nic waved away that idea. “No, no, no. I want to show Grandma my studio first.”

  A couple of minutes of conversation settled it. Parker stayed back to finish the cleanup and Nic played tour guide. Sharon flashed a bright smile at Parker and told Nicole to lead the way.

  When they’d gone, Parker was all business, making notes on his tablet, documenting the crow’s injuries, even noting the cleanup routine. “Our crow guest doesn’t seem to be in pain, but since I have no hope he’ll fly again, we might as well give him a name.”

  “I bet Jason would have some ideas,” Emma said.

  “Or maybe the perfect name will come to one of us.”

  “Ask your mom,” Emma said, adding, “She seems excited to be here.”

  Parker nodded. “I’m glad I’ll have a chance to talk to her. I didn’t confide much about my divorce. I sort of shocked her when I called to tell her I was interviewing divorce lawyers. But Nic went up to see her last spring and filled her in.”

  Emma’s questions came up as why, why, and why. But she sensed Parker was shar
ing more than he thought he should.

  He frowned. “I don’t know what it could be, but my gut tells me there’s something else going on with my mom.”

  “Like what? I mean, could it be something serious?” So much for not prying.

  “I don’t know. She could retire anytime she wants to,” Parker said, putting his tablet aside, “but she went to a conference for school counselors way out here. In Moline, on the Mississippi River.”

  “I see your considerable wheels turning,” Emma said. “What are you thinking? I’m not good at mind reading.”

  “If you were, you’d see confusion. Let’s just say she’s been a little coy about her plans.” He stepped back from the cage. “Like when she’ll retire, or what she’ll do when she does. But she’s a planner and she likes to work. Maybe she wants to go to Florida or Arizona and teach part-time.”

  “She hardly looks like someone ready to retire.” Parker resembled her in almost every way, except she was a small woman, not much over five feet tall. But her hair that fell to her shoulders was wavy and thick and dark blond like Parker’s. They shared the same dark blue eyes and the wide smile. “I’m stating the obvious, but you look so much like her. It’s almost funny. She has glasses that match her eyes, just like you.”

  “I hadn’t noticed that, but you’re right. I get my height from my dad. And I hope I got his decent sense of humor.”

  She gave him a sidelong glance. “It came from somewhere.”

  Emma heard the voices again and Parker led the way out of the cabin.

  “I told Nic she’s a lucky teenager,” Sharon said when she approached Parker. “I would have been thrilled to have such a great place all my own. Smells like lavender.” She gestured around. “The woods, the lake, the buildings are reminiscent of the camp in Pennsylvania we used to rent when you were little. I’m not sure you’d remember the spot.”

  Emma saw a flicker of recognition cross Parker’s face. He stared at the pier and the lake beyond.

  “I didn’t until just now,” he said, “but the lake especially had a familiarity about it when I first saw it. Maybe I have traces of memories of that camp.”

  “Wow, Dad. That’s like, sort of deep.” Nic turned to her grandmother. “Dad was drawn to this land for real. He got a funny look on his face the day we moved in. And he knew it was sort of a dump.”

  Emma burst out laughing. So did Parker.

  “It wasn’t that bad,” Parker insisted.

  “Yeah, it was,” Emma said. “You’ve both done wonders with those old cabins.”

  Sharon nodded. “I got the full rundown from Nic about how long these buildings were buttoned up tight and languishing.”

  “Rotting, Grandma, rotting. Languishing is way too polite.”

  “And there are a dozen more cabins we haven’t even opened yet,” Parker said. “Somehow, none of that mattered.”

  “No.” Sharon took a step closer to Parker and patted his arm. “I can see that.”

  Emma hung back while they made their plans for the rest of the day, pleased to be included in this happy group.

  * * *

  “I KNOW I must sound like an old farmer,” Emma said, “but I smell snow in the air.” She threw her head back and inhaled deeply.

  “Then we picked a good time for a walk,” Sharon said. “Nic is the one who told me about your butterfly garden.”

  “No, no, it’s not mine,” Emma quickly interjected. “I don’t have anything to do with managing it or promoting it. Other people are in charge of that. The acres are on the edge of the land my late husband and I bought to build the house.”

  “But the garden is built on your land.”

  “The acres were part of my land. A woman in town had the idea and asked for help and raised the money. She needed the acres. I happened to have them. It’s the kind of land she needed because of the many miles of farms surrounding these acres. Some woods, too, but mostly fields. It was no big deal to donate them. I’m not going to miss three acres.”

  Emma played back the words and once again she’d minimized her contribution. Oh, yes, her default position. She hadn’t fully broken that habit yet. But she could be proud of the butterfly garden. It had already made a difference in Bluestone River.

  “I wish there was more to see,” Emma said, “but the garden is sleeping for the winter now.”

  “Such a lovely town,” Sharon said, opening her arms and inhaling deeply. “Parker said as much, but the minute I got out of my car, I knew this was his kind of place.”

  “Those of us involved with the sanctuary are glad he feels that way. We’re not a full-fledged rescue center yet. I know he wants that.”

  Sharon offered an intimate smile. “He’s mentioned you often, Emma. You’re part of the reason he’s so settled here. Like he’s not simply passing through. I wasn’t sure he would become attached to this town.”

  Of course not, Emma thought. “I understand why he’d have preferred a job in a big facility. As beautiful as it is, the center itself is on the dinky side, at least compared to what he’s used to. Right now, it’s a small community nature center.”

  Sharon gave her a skeptical look. “I was thinking more along the lines that you in particular have made him feel at home.”

  She blushed, avoiding Sharon’s gaze.

  Sharon thrust her hands into her pockets. “When I was with Nic in her place, she showed me the quilt you gave her. It’s one of the most beautiful quilts I’ve ever seen.”

  “Which is why it caught my eye. The quilter herself is well known in this area. I couldn’t resist it. It was a perfect match for her baby-blue eyes.”

  “It was generous. And I don’t mean because of its value,” Sharon said. “I mean you have a generous spirit.”

  Emma put her hand on her chest. “Oh, thanks. I’m probably blushing.”

  “Maybe a little.” Sharon paused and then said, “I’m a bit concerned about Nic. She said something about her mother being at loose ends in Vermont. Well, more than that. Nic tells me Jackie’s unhappy where she is. And then she mentioned she could change schools next semester. Has she said anything to you?”

  This was probing, plain and simple. Emma feared that might happen. Being careful where she treaded, Emma said, “I haven’t heard her say anything in a while. When I first met her she mentioned her credits from Neville could transfer to another school if she moved. But that’s pretty typical. That’s the extent of what she’s said to me.”

  “Hmm... I see. Well, I bet that has more to do with Parker and her mom than it is about her and school.”

  “Well, I can’t say. I don’t know Jackie,” Emma muttered, her way of begging off. Or trying to.

  “I’ll be honest with you, and I may be speaking out of turn, but I don’t think Parker understands what Jackie is up to.”

  And she does? Emma questioned. “I’m in the dark,” Emma said. “I know only the bare bones about what happened in the past.”

  Sharon stopped walking and shook her head. “I’m sorry. It’s wrong of me to bring you into it. I know who I have to talk to for answers.”

  Emma smiled, acknowledging the apology. For being so far away, Parker’s ex-wife could be a big presence.

  “Here we are,” Emma said, opening a picket fence that spanned the entrance.

  “I’m surprised it’s open,” Sharon said.

  “No reason to lock it up. It was planned to be bordered by trees and plants, and a fence set back. No fence can keep the rabbits out, but we can keep the deer from trampling through.”

  “Are you worried about intruders on your land?”

  “Seriously?” Emma asked. “I had a stray cow turn up last summer. She got loose from the farm nearby. Some raccoons will come around hoping to find some food. But that’s about it.”

  Everything in the garden had been cut back for the w
inter, but there was something special about seeing the benches and a couple of pools, dry now, but ready for next year.

  “This is lovely. I’ll have to come back to see it in the spring and summer.”

  “You should. This garden is thick with marigolds and blazing star. They’ve put in coneflowers and black-eyed Susans, and day lilies. Virtually everything a butterfly or hummingbird could ask for. Come to visit whenever you like. You’ll always have a room in my house.”

  “I appreciate that.” She let out a quick laugh. “You know, Emma, your reputation really does precede you. Nic thinks you’re like no one else. She talks about how you run your own show, at least according to her.”

  “Now what show would that be?” Emma wondered, puzzled. But she supposed that to a teenager not having to scramble for a job was the best kind of freedom.

  “She’s aware of what you do for various town events, not to mention the sanctuary,” Sharon said. “Besides, she sees you as a woman who follows her own star.”

  “Right now the birds are my star. Being at the sanctuary makes me happy, fulfilled. My photography is a guiding star, too.” She stalled over the next line which would naturally follow, that being around Parker pleased her.

  “All I can say is that Parker mentions you in all our conversations. Especially when the owl was here.”

  “Thanks to Nicole,” Emma said. “But it was very exciting for me. I’d never seen anyone examine a bird like that, and help the bird recover. I’ve always been behind the scenes with my Bluestone River projects. Parker saw how fast I took to it.”

  “Oh, he noticed all right.”

  Emma didn’t miss Sharon’s light tone. “Safe to say he’s taught me everything I know.”

  Hoping she wasn’t saying too much, Emma explained the lost years after her fall and rehab, and Neil’s death. “I’d been looking for a new direction. The sanctuary is more than a cause for me. It’s no longer something I fund to help the town. Turns out it’s part of my life...my new life.”