Merry's Christmas: Two Book Set (Amish) (9 page)

“I adore my mother,” he confided. “The kids love her to pieces. But down the block is close enough, all things considered.”

Merry drifted by Daniel’s desk. “Funny thing is, if I had a mom as great as yours, I don’t think I could keep her close enough.”

Daniel shook his head, resisting. “But, given where I’m heading with things, the truth is...”

Daniel motioned Merry closer. When she stepped just to the side of his desk, he lowered his voice to a confidential tone. “If and when another woman moves into this house,” Daniel said, “I’ve been looking for the kind of woman that...” Again, he paused. “The truth is, I was hoping that she’d be my wife.”

No more words passed between them that night. Daniel simply punctuated his point with a smile that said he had a specific woman in mind.

Though she thought she’d burst with joy, Merry held her composure, wanting to allow Daniel to take things at his own pace. In the past, she’d made the mistake of gulping too soon. This time, she resolved, she would sip and savor what was developing between them, every delicious step of the way.

Merry nodded to Daniel that she understood, an effervescent sparkle in her eyes. With a simple wave goodbye, she slipped out for the evening, wondering if there’d be a way in the world that she’d sleep a single wink that night.

eight
 

M
erry navigated the Bell’s upstairs hallway, her arms overloaded with Christmas boxes from the attic. Indeed, it was a precarious pile, but she’d picked it up with a special purpose. As she passed the twins’ bedroom, Merry peered in at Hayden who sat, staring blankly at her computer screen. “Think you could give me a hand?”

Hayden pushed her laptop away in frustration. “I guess,” she sighed, “now that I’ve made so much progress on my sonnet.”

Outwardly, Merry made nothing of it as Hayden came to her aid, but inside, Merry celebrated. Her idea had worked. It was only a foot in the door with Hayden, but Merry knew it was a start.

Downstairs, Merry sorted through the tiny houses and storefronts of a miniature village as Hayden pulled out pieces of a model train set. Merry didn’t mention it, but she presumed that every piece of that railway represented a memory, a connection to Christmases long ago. All of those memories had been good, she supposed, all except the very last one.

“Looks like I’m not the only one that’s been living under the tracks,” Merry quipped.

“Yeah, this is all Dad’s,” Hayden replied. “Mom started it for him. First the engine, couple of cars. Never did get a caboose.”

Merry nodded softly, steeling herself to take the plunge. “Is it okay if I ask you something?”

Hayden grimaced wryly. “Just don’t go all Barbara Walters on me.”

Merry snapped two track pieces together. “What was your mom like?”

Hayden shrugged. The subtlest sort of smiles crossed her face. “She was...kind of corny but cool, about Christmas and Valentines and birthdays and pretty much any other excuse to do her whole uber-mom thing. Freakish you should ask about her because it’s sort of taboo here.”

“You know, you’re really pretty when you smile like that,” Merry observed.

“I’m not smiling,” Hayden replied.

“Not now. But you were.”

Hayden quickly dropped back to a smirk. “Promise not to hold it against me.”

Merry nodded. “Promise. But I think the moratorium on enjoying Christmas ran out a while ago. You could always ease your way back into it. Don’t want to crack anything. Start with a warm-fuzzy, barely there,” Merry playfully demonstrated as she spoke. “Then, a sort of botoxed upper lip smile.”

Hayden bit her lip, but Merry still spotted it.

“Busted!” Merry teased. “You’re such a little cheater!”

Losing the battle, Hayden clamped her lips with her fingers.

Merry pointed at Hayden with glee. “Flag on the play! No lip biting or finger clamping!”

Despite Hayden’s concerted efforts to prevent it, a grin popped out.

“Ring-a-ling! Somebody get a camera!” Merry exuded.

“Cut it out!” Hayden protested. “You’re as bad as mom!”

Merry tipped her head a little. “Well, thanks, Hayden. That was a very nice thing to say.”

“Yeah, well you... She...” Tears sprang to Hayden’s eyes.

Immediately, Merry’s heart went out to her. She put a hand on her arm. “Oh, Hayden. I’m sorry.”

Hayden quickly shook Merry’s hand off. “Forget it, all right?”

“You know it’s okay to—”

“No, it’s not okay,” Hayden broke in, her emotions clearly rising. “I hate this. All of it! All it does is remind me what I can’t ever have again. You know what I want for Christmas? I want my mom back. Can you get me that?”

Merry held Hayden’s demanding gaze. “Sweetie, I wish I could.”

Hayden jerked away. “And don’t call me that!” she cried. “That’s what she called me. Nobody calls me that.”

“Maybe they should,” Merry persisted. “Maybe she’d want them to. Like she’d want to know you found a way, well, not to forget her, but to enjoy the life she gave you.”

Hayden wiped her face. It was a long while before she finally spoke. “I don’t know how to do that.”

Tears brimmed in Merry’s eyes as she searched Hayden’s. “I just know, every day you had with your mom—every time you get another day with your dad, your sister, Ollie, your grandmom—it’s a incredible gift. I don’t know much, Hayden. But I know that.”

Hayden sat silently, irony playing on her face. “Funny that you’d mention gifts. I know exactly what to give Tara for Christmas. It’s just really hard to give it. I don’t know if I can.”

Merry nodded thoughtfully. “You know, I always thought that the gifts that are hardest to give, well...they can be the best gifts of all.”

Christmas music wafted from an old-fashioned turntable, filling the Bell’s garage. Familiar tunes from a by-gone era scratched out, sung by crooners of long ago holidays, the kind that set a person swaying, no matter the task they accompanied.

Ollie helped Merry stow attic overflow in the unoccupied half of the garage. Ollie was a good helper, Merry observed. He’d taken to her from the start, something she dearly appreciated. He needed a mother as much as Hayden did, she realized. He just showed it in different ways.

Ollie’s face lit up as the garage door began to open and Daniel’s headlights shone into the garage. “Daddy’s home!” Ollie exuded. Ollie ran to greet his dad as the car idled outside.

Merry hustled to move a few items aside. “Just a sec. I’ll get this out of your way. Sorry. I had thought you’d park out front.”

Daniel pulled into his parking space in the garage. “Well, the forecast says we might get some snow, so...  What’s all this?” he wondered, turning his car off.

Merry glanced around. “Attic overflow.”

“Don’t tell Hayden,” Ollie added urgently.

“Right,” Daniel agreed. “Hey, Buddy, why don’t you go wash up for dinner. I’ll get this.”

Obediently, Ollie ran toward the townhouse. Daniel began to help Merry stow things they haven’t used in years—a cradle, the twins’ double stroller, Ollie’s tricycle.

“That was my dad’s old turntable over there,” Daniel recalled. “Obsolete now, I guess. Amazing that it still works. Looks like we’re way overdue for a purge.”

Merry looked around, imagining the long ago time when these things had been in regular use. “Everything here has a place in your family story, I’m sure.”

Daniel nodded nostalgically. “Really does. Christmas used to be a big day around here.”

“I can tell,” Merry said. “It can be again, you know.”

Daniel hoisted a box. “Sure hope so.”

Merry helped Daniel to slide the container in place. “Yeah. Me, too,” she replied. Suddenly, an idea struck. “You know what?” she said. “Close your eyes. Go on, close them.”

Going along with it, Daniel closed his eyes. Merry quickly plugged in an electrical cord, then lightly took Daniel by the hand and led him out of the garage. She loved the way he trusted her as she guided him all the way into the back yard, his eyes still shut tight. Classic Christmas music from the open garage wafted across the night air.

“Not yet. No peeking,” Merry reminded.

As they passed the kitchen window, Merry noticed Ollie and Tara, watching from inside. Merry put a finger to her lips, signaling them about the secret she was preparing to unfold. Tara broke into a victorious grin. Ollie playfully poked her.

Reaching the patio, Merry led Daniel to a stopping place.

“Now?” Daniel asked.

Merry released his hand. “Now.”

Daniel opened his eyes. The yard was aglow with twinkle lights. Strings of lights hung on fence rails, shrubs and trees, shimmering all around them. Daniel took it all in, then looked back at Merry, completely amazed.

Merry smiled softly. “Starting to feel like Christmas, now, isn’t it?”

Daniel nodded. “It is.”

“Sure you don’t want to take me up on that dancing lesson?” Merry offered.

Daniel paused. “I confess...I’m still back and forth about what to do for Catherine. I’m not sure if the Ball is really the right thing.”

Merry weighed her options. It wasn’t that she wanted Daniel to opt to take Catherine to the Charity Ball, but something in her had to know for sure. “You know, if you got more comfy with the dancing part, you could set that aside,” Merry suggested. “Might help you to see the rest of the decision more clearly.”

Merry offered her right hand to Daniel. Warily, he took it. “Then you pull your partner close, so you can feel how she’s moving,” Merry instructed.

As Daniel drew Merry next to him, the warmth of his nearness went all through her.

“I’m afraid you’ll need to lead,” he confessed.

“That’s okay,” Merry answered. “Just take it when you’re ready. I’ll sense it.”

Thousands of lights illuminated as Merry and Daniel began to waltz around the patio. They were tentative at first, but before long they had lost themselves in the moment.

Hours after Merry had left for the diner, Daniel sat at his desk, half paying the bills and half deep in thought. The decision about what to get Catherine for Christmas weighed heavily on his mind. She was a woman who already had everything, he thought, everything that money could buy.

In the five months since he’d met Catherine, she hadn’t once asked him for anything beyond the pleasure of his company. There’d been no occasion for gifts yet, no birthdays to pass, nor any material need. What he’d found they had in common was a deeper longing, a desire for companionship.

It wasn’t that attraction hadn’t played a role, but there was a genuine quality beneath Catherine’s refined beauty, something of substance that had captured his attention. Perhaps it had been their intersecting career paths that had drawn them together; perhaps it was her sparkling intellect. But whatever it was, it had made him believe he could love again. For years, he had thought of no other woman than the wife he’d lost. Yet, from the moment Catherine had come into his life, something had been reawakened.

The ringing phone brought Daniel out of his reverie. He could see from his Caller ID that it was Catherine. Daniel picked up. “I was just thinking of you.”

“Really?” Catherine replied. “Because I was just talking about you. With Daddy. I’m afraid the cat’s out of the bag.”

“And which cat would that be?”

Catherine paused coyly. “Let’s just say, he approves. Highly.”

Daniel listened with interest. “Oh?”

“He said...so many things,” Catherine went on. “How he trusts you, that you’re a man of your word—and what else—ah, yes, that a man of your particular ‘intentions’ toward me would be most welcome to, let’s say, advance within the Strong family. Banking and otherwise.”

Though, as usual, the meaning of Catherine’s words wasn’t conclusive on the surface, her subtext rang through loud and clear to Daniel. Indeed, he was a man of his word. He had expressed his sincere intentions to Catherine. She had voiced his stated interest to her father, his boss, and the idea had met with the soon-retiring bank president’s resounding endorsement.

Though they chatted on about the minutia of the day, Daniel rocked back in his chair, reflecting on the big picture of their lives. Every romance comes to a crossroads, he realized, a pivotal point of decision. As he listened to the happiness in Catherine’s voice, he knew that—one way or another—the  time had come.