The Christmas House Page 13

  He leaned against the counter, folding his arms across his chest, and Charlotte had to force her eyes away from the biceps on display. “Let me guess, Sam?”

  “I hate to betray her confidence,” she said, slowly dispensing a perfect bead of white icing around the edge of a snowman-shaped cookie.

  “I’m sure she’d have no problems with you telling me. In fact, I’ve probably already heard it,” he said.

  Charlotte swallowed a laugh and glanced up at him. “Direct quote?”

  He let out a low, deep laugh that made her toes curl. She had no idea how he was able to go from hot man to almost boyish charm with one laugh. If they were an actual couple, or if she had an actual backbone, she’d have stood on her tiptoes and kissed him right then. But they weren’t and she didn’t. “That’s the best kind. But I bet I can guess.”

  She raised an eyebrow and waited.

  “Sam probably said I don’t have any artistic talent and I’m better at eating cookies than I am at baking them.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “Well done. You know your daughter.”

  He gave her a wide smile. Very charming. Just the right amount of smug. “Well, she’s right. But this isn’t actually artistic. Don’t you just squirt a bunch of icing all over the cookies?”

  She inhaled sharply. “I can see the problem. Maybe I’ll ice a couple of cookies, because I have a feeling you just really want a cookie with icing on it and don’t actually care about the outcome.”

  He shrugged. “Guilty as charged. Fine, you ice the cookies and I’ll clean up the kitchen.”

  “Deal,” she said, getting the icing she’d already prepared ready.

  The doorbell rang and Wyatt crossed the room. “I’ll get the pizza. Do you still want that glass of wine?” he said as he walked out of the room.

  Wine. With Wyatt. He was asking again, she knew, because of her awkward speech before. “That sounds great,” she said as he came back in the room carrying a large box of pizza. He placed it on the island while she finished piping the rest of the snowmen cookies. The room suddenly felt way too small as he pulled out a bottle of wine and two glasses. It was also really quaint. Yes, Christmas music was still playing in the background, but there was a different kind of quiet. This was the kind that should have been filled with the two of them sharing their thoughts, but instead, they were holding back. Wyatt didn’t seem to be the type to be shy or scared of speaking his mind, but all of a sudden with Sam gone, there was no one to hide behind.

  “Here you go,” he said, placing a glass of red wine in front of her on the island.

  She picked up the glass and smiled, forcing herself to act like an adult who drank wine with hot men on a regular basis. “Thanks.”

  “Do you want to sit at the table and eat?”

  She nodded. “Sure.”

  Once they were settled and they each had a slice of pizza, Charlotte took another sip of wine. She needed to loosen up. “Sam was telling me that you have vacation time coming up?”

  He nodded and grabbed another slice of pizza. “Long overdue. I have a week off starting next week.”

  “That’s great! Sam must be really excited,” she said, finishing her piece of the very rich meat lover’s pizza and taking another.

  “Well, we’ll see about that. But I am looking forward to getting some stuff done around here. And I’ll have the night off for Candlelight Christmas, which will be a first. It’ll allow me to enjoy The Nutcracker.”

  She smiled. “I love Candlelight Christmas. My sister and I attended a few times with our grandmother. All the shops on the Main Street were decorated and vendors set up on the corners selling roasted chestnuts, while Victorian carolers strolled the sidewalks.”

  He put down his pizza. “Would you like to go with me?”

  She took a large bite of pizza, deciding that the humiliation of an overfull mouth was better than giving an answer she might regret. This shouldn’t be a big deal. It was an evening out with … a friend … a friend from her adolescence. She should say yes. But she didn’t really have friends. Especially not friends who might lead to more than friends. She’d be leaving Silver Springs in a few weeks and … She finished chewing and raised her eyes to his. His expression had changed, and she realized she had inadvertently hurt his feelings. The last thing she wanted to do to the person who was so kind to her. “I think I might be going with … my sister,” she said.

  Something flashed across his eyes, but he nodded politely. “Sure.”

  Charlotte toyed with her napkin and glanced at her wine glass, wondering how fast she could drink it without getting tipsy or how quickly she could leave without looking rude. She stood, grabbing her empty plate. “Well, I’d better finish icing those cookies and head back.”

  He stood a minute later and started cleaning up the kitchen while she iced the cookies in silence. She tried to get through them as quickly as possible while he cleaned up the kitchen. They kept conversation to the mundane, and she sensed a disappointment in him that she didn’t know what to do with.

  “Well, these are all done. I should get going. I have an early day tomorrow,” she said, walking quickly out of the room.

  “Right,” he said, walking over to the closet to get his coat.

  A trickle of mild panic rose inside her at the thought of walking back to her grandmother’s with him again. “You don’t have to walk me home, Wyatt,” she said.

  He opened the front door, his jaw clenched. It was probably the closest she’d ever seen him get to irritated. The fact that she’d managed to irritate him more than his twelve-year-old child said something. “I can’t let you walk home by yourself.”

  She sighed and forced herself to be polite. “I do appreciate the gesture and the pizza and the wine,” she said, stepping out into the cold night air.

  “When did we get this formal, Char?” he asked, stopping once they reached the end of his walkway. He was standing close to the lamppost, and she could see the hurt in his brown eyes, so much so that she felt an urge to take a step back from the honesty he was about to give her.

  She opened her mouth to tell him that she had no idea. She had no idea why she was pushing him away. She didn’t want to. She wanted the opposite. She wanted to close that gap between them. She didn’t want hands off. That was the problem; for the first time in her life she wanted all hands on deck. That terrified her. She was related to a bunch of women who’d been hurt by love, and she wasn’t about to join their ranks. In a few weeks—if she could last that long—Wyatt and her attraction to him would be a distant memory.

  She just needed to make it through Christmas and then get back to her condo in the city. “It’s probably for the best,” she said, walking away from the surprise and hurt that flashed across his handsome face.

  “Right,” he said, falling into step beside her. If he was angry with her, he did a great job of hiding it. The densely blanketed sky of stars held the same magic it had the night before. It was the kind of enchanted night you couldn’t create anywhere but in the open country in the winter. Magic clung to the snow that sparkled under the moonlight, making it seem less dark out, the world not really that ominous. How could anything bad happen when there was this much beauty? But Charlotte had ditched her belief in fairy tales, or maybe she had never really believed in the first place. Maybe there was something wrong with her. They walked in silence and instead of feeling relieved that she had sort of ended any chance at having some kind of relationship with Wyatt, she felt a deep loneliness taking root inside her.

  “Well, have a good night. Thanks again for all your help,” Wyatt said once they reached her grandmother’s front porch.

  What had she done? His handsome face was closed off, and despite the twinkling white lights and the scent of cedar clinging to the air, there was nothing cheerful about this.

  “Wait, Wyatt …,” she said. He stopped and turned around. His hands were shoved into the front pockets of his jeans, and his brown eyes were guarded, not twink
ling like they usually were when they spoke. Now what? Say something, Charlotte.

  “Yes?” he said a few seconds later, when she still hadn’t come up with something to say.

  “Um, I wanted to say thank you for trusting me with Sam,” she said, blurting that out even though it wasn’t at all what she wanted to say.

  Something flickered across his eyes, but he gave her a formal nod. “I’m glad you two get along so well.”

  She took a step closer to him, because she already missed him even though that was crazy, even though she had no right because she had just made it clear that she didn’t want a relationship. But if she did, it would be with someone like him. No, not someone like him. Him. She pulled her coat closer around her neck as an icy gust of wind circled around them.

  She selfishly wanted to hear that caring note in his voice, that softness that, until just a moment ago, he’d used when speaking to her. But she’d blown it. She had stopped everything before it had started.

  She forced a smile before turning to head into the house. There was no point in torturing herself out here. “Okay, thank you for dinner.”

  “Charlotte?”

  She paused, her heart hammering in her chest as she waited for him to continue. “Yes?”

  He gave her a long look and then shook his head. “Good night.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  NOVEMBER 20, 1977

  SILVER SPRINGS

  Ruby held onto Mrs. Pemberton’s hand, even though the elderly woman was sleeping. Her breathing seemed laborious, a wheezing, deep noise that scraped against Ruby’s heart. She glanced over at Sister Juliette, who was on the other side of the bed. They had assumed last month, when her cough had started up, that it was just the bronchitis arriving early. But when the elderly woman had lost her appetite and started spitting up blood, Ruby had rushed her to the doctor.

  “How did you and Mrs. Pemberton meet?” Ruby asked now, desperate to hear something besides the final labored breaths of the woman who’d been a lifeline and friend to her.

  Sister Juliette smiled, deep lines forming around her mouth and her eyes misting over. “In the first grade. We became fast friends and were inseparable—until Donna started dating Charles, and I decided I wanted to give my life to Christ. But we stayed friends. Through it all. Through heartbreak. Donna did have her share of heartbreak, but you have been such a blessing to her, Ruby. You and Wendy. I haven’t seen her this happy since Charles was alive.”

  Ruby blew her nose, and tears clogged her throat. “It doesn’t seem like long enough, and yet I feel like I’ve known her for a lifetime. How is that possible? How is it possible to know someone for only ten years and feel like they’ve been family forever?”

  Sister Juliette shook her head. “Donna has always been generous in heart, and I think you two were kindred spirits. She saw something in you, as I did,” she whispered.

  They both turned as Mrs. Pemberton squeezed their hands lightly and opened her eyes. Though they were clouded with pain, there was something else shining in them, a clarity that hadn’t been present earlier that week, with the morphine the doctor had prescribed.

  “My dear friends, I saw something in both of you. And I am so blessed to have had this time with you.”

  Ruby shook her head. “There can still be more time,” she whispered, frantically, desperately because this wasn’t enough time. Logically she knew, they all knew. The doctor had confirmed that the lung cancer had reached the final stages, and since Mrs. Pemberton had refused any more treatment, the end was near. But Ruby wasn’t ready for that. She wasn’t ready to say another goodbye.

  Mrs. Pemberton squeezed her hand harder this time, looking deep into her eyes. “Ruby, you were brought to me for a reason. You were the daughter I always yearned for, and Wendy was the granddaughter that I was never given. The two of you filled this big old house with joy and laughter and you made my final years the happiest since my Charles was alive. But I don’t ever want you to leave here. I want this to be your home—you and Wendy.”

  A ragged breath seeped from Ruby’s mouth, and she shook her head. “No, no, I can’t. First you need to stay here with us, and it’s too much. It’s … not ours. I can’t,” she said, this time the sob she’d been holding onto breaking free as she lowered her head to kiss her dear friend’s hand. Her weathered hand grazed Ruby’s hair, slowly stroking it, giving her that affection, that comfort that her own mother had denied her. Each stroke reverberated inside her, a warm balm on her weary soul.

  “Yes, Ruby. Make a life here. Fill that dining room table with people every Christmas. Please don’t be afraid to love again. Please open yourself up to all the world has to offer you.”

  Ruby clung to her side, not caring that she was acting like a child, needing her friend to just stay with them a little while longer. One more Christmas.

  The three of them stayed there in silence. The slow rhythm of Mrs. Pemberton’s hand stroking her head, confirmation that she was still alive. The sound of Sister Juliette’s softly spoken prayers a warm blanket. As day escaped them and night seeped in, the shadows playing against the wall, Ruby noticed that Mrs. Pemberton’s hand had stopped moving; instead, it was lying heavily on top of her head.

  Ruby squeezed her eyes shut and cried for the woman who had taken her in and given her a new life. She cried for their years together, for the girl she was when she had first come here, for the woman she was now, just before Christmas, and feeling so lost.

  Open yourself up to love again. Ruby had already lied to her. She knew there was no way she could open herself up to love again. It hurt too deeply. She thought of Harry and knew she had done the right thing. She didn’t need that kind of love ever again.

  * * *

  Charlotte shut her laptop after placing an impromptu Christmas gift order for Samantha. She was hoping she’d like it. It was amazing to her how much she found herself thinking about Sam … and Wyatt. She was still worried that Sam would think she was coming over after school that day.

  Since her epic stupidity the previous night, she hadn’t managed to get Wyatt off her mind. She didn’t know why she had shut him down. She wanted him. She was attracted to him on every level, but she couldn’t make herself just take that next step.

  She’d never had trouble keeping her distance from people. But those two had managed to fill her heart with something she hadn’t known it needed. She had thought that by just putting up boundaries her problem would be solved. But when they’d stood outside together, the longing she’d felt for him had been something she’d never experienced before. She had wanted to take everything back. Except she hadn’t. Instead, her rejection had hung between them.

  She looked up from her calendar and planning items sprawled on the bed as a knock sounded on her door. She was already wearing her skating penguin pajamas despite it being only six o’clock in the evening. “Come in.”

  Outside the door stood Olivia, looking a little more rested. Her hair was shiny again and pulled up into a top knot, and she was wearing a red sweatshirt with the words Let It Snow in gold lettering scrawled across the front, paired with black leggings. She looked like the Olivia Charlotte remembered. But that almost hurt more somehow, because she desperately wanted that Olivia back. “I’m sorry for being such a crappy sister, Char. I know you’re probably on the verge of hating me and never wanting to see me again, but I just want you to know that it wasn’t you. You didn’t do anything. It was me. I screwed up badly, and if you can ever forgive me … I would love that and would do whatever it takes to have you back.”

  Charlotte choked out a sob as Olivia ran across the room, and she opened her arms to hug her little sister. Her heart swelled to the point she thought it would burst with happiness. She hadn’t expected this. She had thought it was her. That there was something inherently wrong with her that made people able to detach themselves from her. She had thought Liv was gone forever. “It’s okay, Liv,” she said as her sister burst into tears.

  �
�I’m such a wreck,” Olivia said, pulling back and sitting cross-legged on the bed beside her.

  Charlotte reached for the Kleenex box on the nightstand and handed her one. “What is going on with you?” she said gently after blowing her own nose and regaining composure.

  “I can’t do this, Char,” Olivia said, running—more like yanking—her hands through her hair.

  Alarm rang through Charlotte at the abrupt change in her sister. “What?”

  “I hate my life. I hate myself. I hate Will. I hate everything. Except Dawn, but I’ve already screwed everything up with her too.”

  Charlotte watched in shock as her sister burst into tears. She leaned forward and wrapped her arms around her. “It can’t be that bad, Liv. You haven’t screwed anything up. You are an amazing mom.”

  Olivia drew back and shook her head. “I left Will because he’s a total dipshit,” she said, crying even louder.

  Charlotte’s mouth dropped open. Now it all made sense. Her heart sank. It was true. The man was a dipshit, and she’d known right from the moment she met him. But she’d rather cut her arm off or have someone steal all her organizational products than tell her sister that. “Why, what happened?”

  Olivia waved a hand in front of her face and then wiped her eyes on her sleeve. “It’s so bad, Char. I should have known. I don’t know why I ignored all the signs—oh, yes, I remember—because I was desperate. I was desperate for a family of my own and a husband and the white picket fence. I wanted my Barbie life to be my real life, and I feel so, so stupid,” she said, flopping backward on the bed and covering her face. Charlotte tried to gently pull her planner and markers from under Olivia, without having any of the pages creased.

  “You can’t blame yourself for what he did,” she said.

  “I’m an idiot,” she said, staring up at the ceiling.

  Charlotte’s eyes welled with tears for her sister, the ache in her chest making it hard to speak. She lay down beside her, feeling like the big sister again, the one who would do anything to protect her. It was true. Olivia had been the idealistic dreamer, and she should have had her happy ending. She deserved it. They both did. The only difference was that Charlotte knew the truth about people—you couldn’t trust them. They might start out okay, then turn on you when the going got tough. But she wasn’t going to tell her sister that. She needed to lift her up. Olivia had the most important job in the world—she was a mother. “Okay, listen to me. Whatever Will did is on Will. That’s not your fault.”