Sweet Christmas Kisses (101 page)

“No,” her parents exclaimed in unison. Jim said, “Tonight was your last reindeer petting experience ever.”

Her bottom lip quivered. “Christmas isn’t gonna be any fun.”

“Sure it is, honey,” Cecilia said, smoothing her hair away from her face. “We’ll all be together. What could be more fun than that? And—” She stopped and smiled at Jim. “We’ll be that way forever, Yvonne. Daddy and I aren’t getting a divorce. We’re staying together. We’ll always be a family.”

Yvonne’s eyes narrowed as she looked at her father. “The Vorce isn’t getting you?”

Jim laughed. “No, and we’re not getting it,” he said.

“Yeah!” Excitedly, Yvonne bounced onto her knees. “Let’s go. I need to tell Santa Claus thank you.”

“For what?”

“For killin’ the Vorce so it couldn’t get you.”

“Is that what you asked Santa for?” Jim asked, grinning.

“Uh huh. And for us to be together. On Christmas and always.”

Her parents each took one of her hands. Cecilia smiled at Jim, her heart full. “Your Christmas wish was granted, beautiful daughter.”

Jim smiled back at Cecilia and reached for her hand, completing the circle. “On Christmas,” he said, “and always.”

Patricia Forsythe is the author of many traditional romances, both print and e-published.  She is a RITA award-winning author who lives in Arizona where she likes to garden and to spend time with her family.  Visit her at 
www.patriciaforsythebooks.com
 .

Grace Greene

Copyright © 2014 by:

Grace Greene

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any
means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief
quotes used in reviews.

This book built at IndieWrites.com

This story is dedicated to our families and friends for their love and encouragement, not only those who are with us still, but also those who are with us in memory. There’s room in our hearts for all, and at our table there’s always room for more.

The more, the merrier.

Merry Christmas!

Jessie Dawson blamed Thanksgiving for what happened at Christmas.

Her dining room table was large but to ensure plenty of room for the turkey and decorations, she’d added the leaf extension. The tablecloth was damask, the appliquéd placemats were an array of autumnal colors, and the turkey, golden brown and hot from the oven, had yet to deflate and wrinkle. Jess looked at her mother on the right, at her younger sister, Lila, on the left, then at the empty seats and the missing place settings.

That was her reality—those empty chairs around the table.

She picked up the carving knife and forced a smile. She’d never done the carving herself. It was a sad reminder of who was missing, but she’d get through this for her mother and sister. The knife sliced into the meat releasing steam and aroma.

Mama said, “This looks perfect, honey.”

“Perfect for feeding an army,” Lila complained as she waved at the bowls and platter. “Why did you make so much food for just the three of us?”

“We count, too.” Jess took a deep breath and dialed back the emotion in her voice. “Thanksgiving isn’t only happening at the lake.”

Lake Anna. That’s where Rob and Elaine and their children were today. With the in-laws.

Lila didn’t respond. Her dark hair was drawn back and secured by a clip, but loose strands fell across her cheeks. Her hair was black like their father’s. Jess had inherited her mother’s flyaway brown curls.

She didn’t know what her sister was stewing over, but Lila was seriously sulking. Jess hoped it was about Pete, the most recent boyfriend.

 “How’s Pete?” Jess asked as she passed the stuffing.

“Not here, that’s how he is.”

Maybe he had moved on. That would be a good thing.

“Here’s some turkey.” Jess forked a large slice onto her mother’s plate. “Lila, can you please pass Mama the gravy?”

“No gravy for me, Jessie, honey.”

“No gravy? But that’s my specialty.”

“
My
specialty seems to be getting wider, so I’m cutting back and making better choices.”

“You sound like a commercial.”

Mama waved her hand at Jess. “You take after your father. Slim as a reed. You can eat anything and never suffer for it, so I don’t want to hear about it from you.” She smiled to soften the words.

Jess pointed toward the serving bowls. “Cranberries?”

“Yes, please.”

“Jellied?”

Before their mother could answer, Lila spoke. “She wants jellied, of course. Dad was the only one who liked it with the whole berries. Nobody else.”

Lila glared at the offending bowl of cranberries and Jess was stunned into silence. Her sister was right. Only Dad. Habit could be a powerful driver.

Mama turned to Lila. “What’s wrong with you today?”

Lila’s mouth dropped open. “How about a little sensitivity?”

“Well, I know it’s not about cranberries since you don’t like either style. Tell me what’s wrong and then I’ll be able to sympathize properly.”

They heard buzzing. Lila looked down. Her phone was on the table next to her plate, vibrating. She picked it up and stared at the screen.

“Excuse me.” She rose and left the room.

“Pete,” Mama said.

“Did they argue or break up or something?”

She shrugged and shook her head. Jess placed a roll on her mother’s plate and slid the butter dish closer.

“The table looks lovely, honey.”

"What is it, Jessie?"

Jess set her knife and fork on the edge of the plate. “Nothing. Everything.”

Mama touched her hand. “Honey, try not to let it bother you. The in-laws have to be considered, too.”

“But this year of all years… Did they really have to spend Thanksgiving with Elaine’s family?” Jess sighed. “I should check on Lila.” She rose, sliding her chair back.

Her mother dropped her gaze. She smoothed her soft brown hair behind her ears. The light of the chandelier picked out the silvery highlights. Her voice was gentle and low, but her tone stopped Jess short.

 “Last year,” she said. “That was the most important year. We just didn’t know it.” She creased her napkin. “You never know which year will be the most important, not in advance. Only in retrospect. Only after you know what you’ve lost.”

She nodded. “Now, go ahead and check on your sister.”

Jess looked at her mother. She couldn’t find the right words, so she turned away and went to find Lila.

She was on the side porch pacing the planks. She clutched her phone, pressing it against her cheek, not to her ear.

“What’s up? You okay?”

“I’m fine.” Lila stood taller. Her hand dropped to hang at her side, but she continued holding the phone.

Jess nodded toward the door. “Turkey dinner’s getting cold.”

Lila stared, her eyes slightly pink and puffy. “I’ll be in shortly. Don’t wait for me.”

“We could.” Jess put her hands on her hips. “We’re already without Rob and Elaine and the kids, and Dad, of course. Should Mama and I go ahead without you, too?”

Lila blinked and bit her lip. She looked away, then slipped her phone into her jacket pocket. “Okay.”

Jess followed Lila back to the dining room. None of them had been right since Dad died, including herself, but the empty chairs at the table seemed to blast the news like loudspeakers. The Dawson family wasn't merely changing, they were broken and drifting faster and faster away from each other. Decades of family memories and holiday traditions were fading fast, like old photos exposed to a cruel sun.

It took less than ten minutes to eat their fill. No one wanted to linger at the table. Jess rose silently and carried the dishes into the kitchen. Mama packed up the leftovers, sorting them into packages of three. Lila vanished again.

Only three. Three lone women.

What would Christmas look like?

Jess shuddered and dropped a pan. The metal clanged when it hit the tile floor.

Mama jumped. She spun around pressing a hand over her heart. “You okay, honey?”

“Fine. I’m just clumsy. Sorry I startled you.” Jess picked up the pan and added it to the dishwasher.

From the kitchen doorway, Lila said, “I have to go.”

They walked with her to the front door and waved goodbye as she drove away. The phone was back to her ear before she was out of sight.

Mama touched her daughter’s face and asked, “Are you really okay, Jess?”

“You have to go, too?”

“I can stay awhile if you’d like company.”

“Go.”

“I can stay. Lucy said she was going to call today but if she misses me, she’ll try again.”

Jess retrieved her mother’s purse and sweater. They saw each other often and there wasn’t much to talk about except the same old news.

The wreath on the outside of the door rattled in the wind. It was turning chilly. What had happened to the warm day? Crazy time of year for weather, but that was the usual in Virginia.

Jess closed the door and faced the living room. Lots of furniture, perfect paint job, books in the bookcase, bric-a-brac arranged on gleaming wood table tops—her home was full of stuff, but empty. She straightened the chairs at the dining room table, tweaked a placemat into alignment, and then hit the switch to extinguish the chandelier.

Her laptop was on the drop-leaf side table next to the sofa. She propped her feet up on the footstool and settled the computer on her lap. She opened the lid and brought up her email.

In the sidebar where the ads ran, Jess saw the house.

It was an ad for beach house rentals. A special for the holidays.

The house in the ad reminded her of the coral-colored house her parents rented for Christmas when they were kids. Several years in a row, the Dawson gang had invaded Emerald Isle for Christmas week.

The beach in winter was quiet and private and personal. The kids played games and worked puzzles while Dad watched football and Mama read or crocheted. Instantly, the smell of freshly-popped popcorn and hot cocoa and the sharper tang of the evergreen tree in the corner swirled in the air around her. Back then, no one had argued. No one’s heart was being broken. No one was left out.

Jess walked over to the bookcase. Framed family photographs lined the shelves. Some were from their beach Christmases all those years ago. She slid an old picture album from the bookcase.

Dad was always snapping photos in those days. There was daredevil Rob standing on the porch railing. Mama held baby Lila on her hip. A group of kids, Rob and she and some local kids, chased the waves down by the water’s edge. The local kids came and went, briefly fun and quickly forgotten. The core was Team Dawson and they didn’t need anyone else.

She did an Internet search for Outer Banks rentals. There were several rental companies and many, many houses, but she remembered theirs well and found it easily.

It was
the
house. Still coral. In the picture it looked the same. A duplex, but rising tall, three stories, above the oceanfront at Emerald Isle. It was named
Coral Cove
. She’d forgotten that.

Twenty-five years. That was a sobering thought.

It was a big house. It would fit everyone, even with the addition of grandkids. She reached for the phone. Her hand hovered, then faltered and made its way back to the keyboard.

She couldn’t assume the rest of the family would be okay with the plan. Besides, today was Thanksgiving. No one would be answering phones at the rental company.

Her family would be thrilled. It was a fabulous idea and would be a great surprise for everyone. The calendar on the webpage showed the house was available Christmas week. Jess nibbled her lower lip.

Available, but that could change at any moment.

The website offered an online form.

She’d grab the house now before someone else did. She’d tell the others later. It would be her treat so they could hardly complain. She’d send crafty note cards as invitations. It was going to be a blast.

With the smell of roasted turkey still lingering in the air, Jess filled out the form. She sensed Dad nearby. It was almost like she was a kid again with her loved ones around her.

It felt good.

****

Jess crafted the invitations with tiny shells and starfish cut-outs. She brushed glue across the front and sprinkled sand into it. She mailed the invitations and waited anxiously, eager for their answers.

Mama came over to the house and said, “Are you sure about this, honey?”

Rob telephoned and said, “Good idea. I’ll take care of the tree.”

Lila sent a text. “Ok.”

Her boss wasn’t happy at the short-notice request for a week off at Christmas, but Jess dug in her heels and insisted. Some things were worth risking everything for.

Jess drove across the long bridge from Swansboro and arrived in Emerald Isle ahead of the others. It wasn’t a race. No one else was planning to arrive until the next day. After a stop at the rental office, she followed Emerald Drive to the house.