The Snow Globe (11 page)

Her mother turned to stone. “I know I couldn't provide you with the kind of elegant lifestyle some of your friends had, but really, was your life so bad, Suzanne? Our home wasn't full of expensive knickknacks but it was full of love. Which would you rather have had?”

Love, of course. Suzanne bit her lip.

“There's more to life than selling houses,” her mother continued. “And there's certainly more to life than living in one that looks like something from a magazine layout. You're becoming so consumed with this place that you're starting to forget about the people who live in it. This isn't a dollhouse. Your husband and daughter are real people with real needs. And let me tell you, life is short. You can lose the people you love in a heartbeat. Now, drink your cocoa.”

Suzanne scowled and set the cocoa on the nightstand as her mother left the room. She didn't want cocoa and she didn't want a lecture and she didn't want a broken ankle!

Even in sleep the torture continued. She dreamed that the angel flitted out of the snow globe and stood before her, an eight-foot tower in a glowing robe and a halo that looked suspiciously like Christmas lights. “You're a mess,” she observed in disgust.

“Gee, thanks,” Suzanne retorted. “It's your fault I'm like this, you know.”

The angel rolled her eyes. “Oh, please.”

“Is there a reason you're here?” Suzanne demanded.

“Yes, as a matter of fact, there is. I've come to show you your
future. Look.”

At first all Suzanne could see was mist. Then, slowly, it cleared and she made out a middle-aged, slightly overweight woman sitting in a living room decorated for the holidays. The décor could have been lifted from the pages of
Better Homes and Gardens
.

“Well, the house looks great,” Suzanne said.

“It should. There's no one in it to mess it up,” said the angel.

“What happened to me?” wondered Suzanne, regarding her plumper, older self in disgust. “When did I gain all that weight?”

“Menopause,” said the angel. “And you were depressed.”

“Why was I depressed? What happened?” Suzanne asked, and braced herself.

“Your husband left you. He remarried. She's a total slob.”

The blow to both her heart and ego made Suzanne gasp. “You're kidding, right?”

The angel cocked an eyebrow. “Do you think angels kid about things like this?”

“Why did he leave? I don't understand.”

“Oh, don't play dumb,” snapped the angel, adjusting her halo. “Why do you think he left?”

Suzanne decided to plead the Fifth. “What about my daughter?” she asked in a small voice. “Where is she?”

“Look,” the angel said with a sweep of her hand.

“Oh, good Lord,” gasped Suzanne as the angel showed her a garish house laden with multicolored lights, its yard a dump for
every plastic holiday decoration ever invented.

“Don't worry,” said the angel. “You don't have to deal with it. She never invites you over. She never comes to see you, either. You're a pain in the butt.”

Suzanne blinked in shock. “What kind of a way is that for an angel to talk?”

“The truth hurts,” said the angel. “By the way, I brought you a present.” She turned around and picked up something hiding behind her robe and Suzanne saw it was a dog, a grown version of Happy.

The dog jumped out of the angel's arms and ran over to Suzanne and chomped into her ankle with huge fangs.

Suzanne woke up with a strangled scream to a dark room. She was sitting up in her bed and Guy was next to her.

He sat up, too. “You all right, babe?”

Suzanne pushed her damp hair out of her eyes with a trembling hand. “It was awful. Bryn hated me and I was alone. And fat.”

“You just had a nightmare. Everything's all right,” he assured her, his voice heavy with sleep. He kissed the top of her head and then flopped back down and turned over on his side.

“Guy, am I a pain in the butt?”

“Sometimes,” he mumbled, burying his head deeper in his pillow.

She leaned over him. “Would you leave me for a slob?”

“I wouldn't leave you for anything. Come on, babe, it's three in the morning. Let's go back to sleep,” he added, easing her
back down next to him.

“Guy, do you love me?”

“Of course I love you. Do you need another pain pill? Are you hurting?”

She was hurting, but it was nothing the pills on her nightstand could combat. “I'm fine,” she lied. “Sorry I woke you.”

“No problem,” he said, and a moment later he was snoring.

But Suzanne lay in bed, wide awake, fearing that if she shut her eyes she'd fall back asleep and the angel would get her.

It gave her a lot of time to think.

 

By the time the first light of morning slipped past the bedroom curtains Suzanne had found a new attitude. Changes of heart were wonderful, she decided. She felt like a whole new woman, swathed in holiday warmth. This was going to be a truly perfect Christmas. She was going to make sure of it!

As soon as Guy went downstairs to help her mother with breakfast she grabbed her cell phone and called the Lovgrins, her heart racing with excitement. She barely gave April time to say hello. “We'd like to get Happy for Bryn for Christmas.”

“Suzanne, I'm sorry,” said April. “Happy was adopted yesterday.

Suzanne stared at her phone in disbelief. “Yesterday?” How could this be? What kind of sick angel appeared to someone in a dream a day late?

“You said you didn't want him,” April reminded her.

“I know, but I changed my mind.” Here she was, turning over a new leaf, and the Spirit of Christmas was rewarding her by dropping a Christmas tree on her head. That wasn't how it worked for Scrooge. Something was terribly, terribly wrong here. “Don't you have any dogs left?”

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line. “Maybe it was just my imagination,” said April at last, “but you didn't seem interested in a dog. In fact, I got the distinct impression you don't much like dogs.”

“Man's best friend? What's not to like?” lied Suzanne. “Guy has had dogs all his life and you know Bryn is dying for one.”

Another pregnant pause.

Suzanne rushed to fill it. “April, I've had a dog epiphany. Really. If you have any puppies left it would mean so much to all of us to be able to adopt one.”

“We still have Hildy.”

Hildy, Happy, who cared? As long as it was a dog. “Great,” said Suzanne. “We'll take her.”

“All right,” April said, her tone of voice adding,
I hope I won't regret this
. “We'll get things rolling for you. By the way, how's the ankle?”

“It's getting better,” said Suzanne. It had to, she thought, since after Christmas she was going to have a new baby to care for.

She'd barely hung up the phone when her mother entered the room, carrying a mug of coffee and a plate with freshly baked cinnamon rolls. Her smile looked a little forced and Suzanne felt the weight of all the mean things she'd said the night before. “You didn't have to bring me anything. I was going to come down.”

“That's okay,” said her mother, handing over the goodies. “I wanted a minute to talk alone.”

That meant another lecture was coming for sure, but this one was well deserved. “I'm sorry I've been such a brat,” Suzanne said earnestly. “And I'm sorry about what I said last night.”

Her mother shook her head and laid a hand on Suzanne's arm. “No, I'm the one who needs to apologize. There's no shame in working to have nice things. God knows I gave you few enough.”

Suzanne saw the glisten of tears in her mother's eyes and felt
fresh guilt. When had she become so shallow? Surely she hadn't been born that way. She hugged her mother fiercely. “You gave us love and that was plenty.” Why had she thought she needed more? Why had she felt such a burning desire to be just like her rich friends?

“Thank you, darling,” Mom said, and kissed her cheek. “Now, about this holiday home tour. How can I help you?”

 

The holiday home tour was a smashing success. Suzanne parked herself, cast and all, at the house that served as the reception home, plying visitors with Allison's brownies and brochures while Mom helped Julie and two other agents from the office squire visitors from house to house. By the end of the day three of the agency's listings had offers on them. Suzanne's mother had cinched one of the deals by informing a pair of expectant parents that their child would thank them someday for giving her such a lovely home to grow up in. Of course, being Mom, she had also thrown in as a bonus a little lecture on how to have a happy home.

“Do you really believe what you told them about having a nice house?” Suzanne asked as her mother tooled them home in Suzanne's Lexus.

“Beauty is a subjective thing,” she said with a shrug. “I could tell they were in love with the house. They simply needed someone to give them permission to buy it.”

Mom was a natural. “Maybe you should forget teaching and go into real estate,” said Suzanne.

Her mother shook her head. “No. I'm exactly where I want
to be. I like helping children learn and grow. And I like having time off at the holidays to be with my family,” she added with a smile.

Actually, so did Suzanne.

 

When Christmas Eve came, Mom was in her element. Suzanne's brother, Loren, and his family ferried over from nearby Vashon Island and her mother stuffed them all to the gills with her famous Swedish meatballs. After the presents had been exchanged and Loren's family had left, she cleaned up the mess, restoring order to chaos, then led Bryn off for a bedtime story so Guy could steal away to fetch home the new puppy.

“I'd ask if you're going to be okay while I'm gone, but with your mom here that would be a dumb question,” he said after he'd helped Suzanne upstairs. “Looks like her coming up early turned out not to be such a bad thing after all.”

“It's worked out,” Suzanne admitted.

“I'll say,” agreed Guy, giving his stomach a satisfied pat. “Well, I'd better get going.”

He gave her a quick kiss and started to leave but she caught his arm. “Remember when Bryn saw the puppy in the snow globe and you said you saw our house?”

“Yeah,” he said slowly.

“Did you?”

Guy made a face. “Of course not. I was just playing along. I'll be back in half an hour.”

Suzanne gave her lip a thoughtful chew as he left the room.
Had she imagined what she saw? She supposed it didn't really matter at this point.

She was settled in bed by the time Guy returned with the female version of Happy. He plopped the new baby on the bed.

“My spread!” protested Suzanne as the puppy bumbled its way to her.

“It'll be okay,” Guy assured her.

Happy the Second clambered up Suzanne's chest to lick her face, nearly bowling her over with a strong dose of puppy breath.

“Someone needs an Altoid,” Suzanne said, picking up the pup and holding her at arm's length.

The puppy wriggled in her hands, anxious to display affection.

“Yes, you're a good dog,” Suzanne assured her. “Now go see Guy,” she added, holding the dog out to him.

“Come here, you,” Guy said. “Time to be in your crate.” He cuddled the puppy to him much the way had cuddled Bryn when she was a baby.

The sight made Suzanne's heart catch. She had definitely done the right thing. But if the dog peed on her carpet…

Fortunately for Hildy-Happy, she didn't. And Bryn's ecstasy when she saw her father sitting at the foot of the tree on Christmas morning, the puppy in his arms, was worth more than a thousand ruined carpets.

“What a perfect present!” Allison exclaimed when she and Kiley stopped by on their way to their family celebrations. She picked the puppy up and it immediately went to work covering her neck and face in puppy kisses.

“No,” said Suzanne, holding out a box wrapped in burgundy
paper and tied with an elaborate gold ribbon. “This is a perfect present. Open it.”

Allison set the dog down and reached for the present. “Is this what I think it is?” she asked with an eager smile.

“It's your turn,” said Kiley.

Allison ripped into the paper, making Suzanne wince. She lifted the lid and fished out the snow globe.

“Shake it,” urged Kiley.

Allison hesitated a moment. Then she shook her head and nested it back in its tissue paper bed. “No. Not before I have to go to my parents. It would be bad luck.”

“Oh, come on,” urged Kiley. “It'll help you get through the day.”

Allison pulled out the snow globe, and gave it a jiggle.

“Well?” prompted Kiley. “See anything?”

Allison looked like she was going to cry. Uh-oh, thought Suzanne, and exchanged a worried look with Kiley.

“It looks like my grandma,” Allison said. “Not exactly, but close enough.”

“What's she doing?” asked Suzanne.

“She's drinking tea with me.” Allison closed her eyes and hugged the snow globe.

“Maybe the snow globe is giving you courage,” Kiley suggested.

Allison opened her eyes and nodded. “Probably. God knows, with my family I'll need it.”

“Speaking of family”—Kiley checked her watch—“I've got to get going. Craig and I have to be at my parents' by one.”

The three friends exchanged their other presents and then Kiley and Allison left Suzanne and her family to enjoy their holiday meal and their new baby.

“Happy looks different,” Bryn observed later as she and the dog settled on the couch with Suzanne while Guy and Mom did K.P.

Uh-oh. “How?” asked Suzanne, hoping her tired brain would be able to come up with a quick explanation, appropriate for a seven-year-old, to account for for Happy's missing body part.

“He looks happier,” said Bryn, petting the puppy's head.

“That's because he's found a happy home,” said Suzanne.

“I'm glad Santa didn't take him to Virginia,” Bryn said in a tired voice as Suzanne stroked her hair.

“Me, too,” murmured Suzanne.

A few moments later both Bryn and the new puppy were asleep, Bryn snuggled next to Suzanne and the exhausted dog curled up on Suzanne's lap.

It was the best Christmas she'd had in a long time, she decided as she gazed at the flame in the gas fireplace.

“Now, that's a perfect picture.”

She looked up to see Guy leaning in the doorway and smiled back at him. “Merry Christmas. Have I told you lately that you're a great husband?”

He grinned. “You're just saying that because it's true.” He grabbed his digital camera from the coffee table and recorded the moment, then turned the camera so Suzanne could see.

She didn't need to look, really. She'd already seen this scene, in the snow globe.