CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Her mother served a light dinner of sliced meats and cheeses so they would be ready for the Christmas Eve church service. Traditionally, her parents invited their Sunday school class over, following the church service, for cookies and hot cider. Her mother had been baking cookies for weeks, storing them in the freezer so she could send a plate heaping with an assortment of cookies home with each guest.
Chad, Ashley, and Peter were set to meet them at the church before heading over to Ashley’s parents’ house for her family’s celebration. Ashley had four siblings, and it was sure to be chaotic and fun.
Even before entering the church building, Lindy could hear the choir singing. The steepled church was brightly lit, both inside and out. The manger scene was arranged in the snow outside the building, and a light dusting started to fall in lazy, wind-tossed flakes, floating down from the heavens.
Glancing up, she marveled at how perfect the night was. The burden of the future seemed far removed. She knew that whatever her decision, it didn’t need to be made that night, or tomorrow. As she looked toward the babe in the manager, she knew He would guide her.
Christmas Eve was a time of joy and celebration. A time for family. A time to count her blessings, of which there were many. It hadn’t been an easy year, and she was just as glad to put it behind her, and yet there was much for which to be grateful. It had just taken her awhile to see and appreciate it.
The service started with the singing of long-familiar Christmas carols. “O Holy Night,” “Away in a Manger,” and “We Three Kings” were some of Lindy’s favorites. She noticed some of the children were already dressed in their pajamas and slippers. She remembered coming to the evening service in her own nightclothes, in what seemed another lifetime ago.
After the Christmas Eve service, she and Chad would be eager for bed, knowing that if they went to sleep right away, the morning would come quicker, and they would be able to open their presents from Santa. Chad had still been young enough to believe in Santa, and for his sake, Lindy pretended to believe, too. She wanted her little brother to have the same wonderful Christmas experiences she’d had.
The church service was everything she knew it would be. As she walked out of the church, her gaze once again went to the life-sized Nativity scene on the snow-covered lawn. There, kneeling next to the manger, was the man she readily recognized as the Santa she’d met earlier that day. She turned to tell her mother, but when she looked back, he was gone.
“Lindy, did you need something?” her mother asked.
She shook her head. “I thought I saw someone I knew. Guess not.”
From the church, several families headed to the Carmichaels’ house. It wasn’t long before every spot in both the living and family rooms were taken. Lindy helped serve, enjoying the myriad conversations as she went about the room, refilling cups and passing around a plate of cookies.
“It’s so good to see you, Lindy.” She heard that again and again, and it never grew old. Most of these friends of her parents were ones Lindy had known nearly her entire life. They were as close to family as one could get without a blood connection.
It was after eleven before the house was quiet once again. Lindy sent her parents to bed, as they were overly tired from the day’s activities. She cleared the plates and cups, filled the dishwasher and set it to wash, then headed toward her bedroom, too. Sitting up in bed, she looked over at her nightstand and saw the letter she’d written to Santa just a week earlier.
She reached for it and started to read again.
Dear Santa…
—
Unlike her childhood, Lindy slept in late on Christmas morning. With sheer determination, she managed to focus on the holiday and put any decision-making off for another time. Today was for family and fun.
Her mother already had the turkey roasting when Lindy made her way into the kitchen.
“Merry Christmas, Mom,” she said, and gave her mother a peck on the cheek.
“Merry Christmas,” her mother echoed. “I believe this is the best Christmas ever.”
Her mother said the same thing every year.
“I believe it is, too,” Lindy said, and this Christmas she felt it more so than any other. Her life had seemed to have made a positive turn. No matter what happened with Media Blast, she knew she’d given this latest project her best shot. Knowing that was what mattered most.
“Dad’s making breakfast.”
He sat in his recliner, next to the flickering fire in the brick fireplace, his iPad in his hand. “Just waiting for Sleeping Beauty to make an appearance,” he said.
Her dad’s sourdough hotcakes were not to be missed. Her mother started sizzling the bacon. Within fifteen minutes they’d gathered around the kitchen table, passing butter and pure, warmed maple syrup.
They’d decided to wait for Chad, Ashley, and Peter before opening the gifts. Seeing that the family would arrive at about noon, Lindy helped her mother get all the side dishes ready and the table set. She added an extra place setting on the off chance Billy could join them.
Right on the dot, Chad, Ashley, and Peter arrived. Sleepy from the drive, Peter waddled over, yawning loudly, to hug Lindy.
“Did Santa arrive at your house this morning?” she asked, picking him up and balancing him against her hip.
He nodded with another big yawn. “I got a fire truck and LEGOs and new pajamas.”
“Anything on your list that Santa forgot?” she asked. Knowing he loved working the wooden puzzles, she’d gotten him four that were currently under the tree. Her parents had wrapped up a child-style teepee tent for him that would fit nicely in his playroom. Peter would love that. He’d seen one in a catalog and had run to show his grandma.
He was late for his nap, so Lindy settled them both in the rocking chair. Peter closed his eyes and started to drift off to sleep, all the while protesting. He wanted to open his presents, pointing toward the Christmas tree.
“I want more presents,” he said with a pout.
“Take your nap first, and then we’ll open all the gifts. Okay?”
Asking was a mistake. “No, I want to open them now.”
“Sh-h-h, in a little bit,” she whispered, and continued to rock. It wasn’t long before he stopped fussing and fell into a deep sleep. Content, Lindy brushed the soft hair from his forehead and continued to gently hold him against her heart.
Soon after Peter was asleep, her brother approached her. “Let me take him. I’ll put him down in my old room.”
“Don’t you dare,” Lindy mouthed back. Holding the sleeping toddler in her arms was both comfortable and relaxing. Sitting by the warm fire, with Peter nestled in her arms, Lindy soon felt sleepy herself. Beau snuggled at the base of the chair. This was about as close to tranquility as she could imagine.
After an hour her nephew woke, sat up, and rubbed his eyes. “Can we open the gifts now?” he asked, eager to get off Lindy’s lap. “You said we could after I woke up.”
“I’m going to need an assistant to help distribute all these presents,” her father said, walking over to the gaily decorated tree. He picked up one of the wrapped gifts and looked to Peter.
“I can do it,” Peter said, eager to be helpful.
“Thank you, Peter,” her dad said. “I’ll read off the names and you can deliver them. Sound good?”
Peter nodded, nearly bouncing on his feet with anticipation.
As his grandfather read off the names, Peter stumbled back and forth from the evergreen Christmas tree to deliver each gift. Then, taking turns, one at a time, they opened the presents with Beau’s help.
Lindy waited patiently for her family to unwrap the gifts she’d purchased.
Her parents were thrilled with the bottle of wine and the gift certificate for dinner at the Wine Press.
“We’ve been wanting to have dinner there ever since it opened.”
“I heard it’s almost impossible to get a reservation,” Chad commented, reading over the certificate.
“It helps if you’re dating the owner,” Lindy told them. Billy had insisted on compensating her for the work she’d done on his web page, and she was happy to accept, knowing how pleased this gift certificate would make her parents.
After they’d opened all their gifts, Ashley and Lindy helped in the kitchen. Lindy was busy peeling the potatoes when her phone beeped.
Let me know when you’re ready for Santa to arrive.
Anytime. I’ll meet you outside first. Text when you’re here.
Okay.
Lindy had set aside one of the puzzles for Santa to give Peter and a small gift for the unborn baby, too. She planned to meet Billy and give him the gifts before he came into the house.
About thirty minutes later, Billy’s text arrived.
Lindy silently slipped outside with the small bundle of presents. She didn’t take the time to put on her coat and wrapped her sweater tightly around her as she met Billy in the driveway, dressed in his Santa suit, complete with the long white beard and an abundance of white hair.
“Hey there, handsome,” she said, her heart lifting with happiness. She thought this Christmas couldn’t get any better, and now it did the minute she saw Billy.
“You like the beard?” he asked, lowering it a fraction so he could lean forward and kiss her. He placed his arms around her to protect her from the wind and cold.
“I can live without all that hair on your face,” she teased.
“Matter of fact, so can I.”
“Can you stay for dinner?” She didn’t want to take him away from his own family but was selfish enough to long to spend time with him this Christmas.
He nodded. “Already saw Dede and the kids, so I’m all yours.”
All yours. Although that was a figure of speech, Lindy held the words to her heart, recognizing how strongly attached she was to Billy in such a short amount of time. After a week, it felt as if he’d always been in her life, and perhaps he had been, in the back of her mind.
“I’m wearing the Santa costume over my clothes, so once Santa visits Peter, I’ll leave and then return as myself.”
“That’s perfect.” She was grateful he’d thought this through before he arrived.
Sneaking back into the house, Lindy was happy to see that Peter was sitting on the floor, playing with his Matchbox cars on the zigzag racetrack, a gift from Lindy’s mom and dad. She mouthed the words “Santa’s here” to her parents, who smiled and nodded.
Not five minutes after her return, the doorbell rang. Her dad shared a look with Lindy, and she winked back. “I can’t imagine who that would be,” he said.
Beau barked and raced to the front of the house, eager to greet the company.
“Who do you think would visit on Christmas Day?” her mother asked Peter.
The little boy shrugged but looked up at his grandfather with questioning eyes.
“Do you want to answer the door with me?”
Peter nodded, and awkwardly rose to his feet before racing to the front door with his grandfather.
Lindy heard Peter gasp before he stormed back into the family room and shouted, “It’s Santa! It’s Santa!”
“Ho! Ho! Ho!” Santa called out enthusiastically, as he came into the house. “I understand there’s a good little boy named Peter who’s visiting his grandma and grandpa.”
Peter stared up at Santa, his eyes as wide as he could stretch them, his mouth open in awe and wonder.
“Santa has gifts for good little girls and boys.” He lifted the bag off his shoulder and, reaching inside, pulled out the gift Lindy had given him for Peter. The four-year-old fell to his knees and tore apart the paper.
“And here’s another,” Santa said, handing an envelope to Chad and Ashley along with a receiving blanket for the baby yet to be born.
Ashley opened it and shared it with Chad. “A gift certificate for dinner at the Wine Press…wow.”
“Thanks, Santa.”
“And here’s another one,” he said, handing a bottle of wine to her father and mother.
“You’re kidding,” her dad said, as he read the label. “We’re saving this for a special occasion.” He showed it to Lindy. “Here’s one last gift,” he said, extracting a small, wrapped box that he handed to Lindy.
“For me?” she said, unable to hide her surprise.
Billy’s eyes held hers. “Yes, you.”
Lindy sat with the gift in her lap and carefully unwrapped it. She found a charm bracelet with a single charm. A tiny silver Santa.
“Thought you could add another charm every Christmas,” Santa explained.
For Christmas, this year, after reading those long-ago letters, the Santa charm was perfect. “Thank you,” she said softly, and then, forgetting herself, she leaned over and kissed him.
“Mommy, Mommy, Aunt Lindy kissed Santa.”
“Lucky Santa,” Billy murmured, as he headed toward the door.
“Thank you, Santa.” Peter hurried forward and grabbed hold of Santa’s leg.
Chad gently pried him away so Santa could make his departure.
Santa laughed and left with another cheerful “Ho, ho, ho.”
When Billy returned, Peter raced to his side. “Billy, you just missed seeing Santa. He came to the house.”
Billy did a good job of looking surprised. “I missed seeing Santa?”
Peter nodded. “Maybe he’ll come back.”
“That would be a real surprise,” Billy said, and winked at Lindy.
—
Dinner was over, the dishes washed, and everyone lounged around with full bellies, needing a break before digging into a selection of desserts. Her mother had baked several pies, plus there were cookies and a variety of Christmas candies.
Billy and Lindy sat on the sofa, his arm around her shoulders. She wore the charm bracelet. She had gotten him a small gift: a certificate to update his website the next time she was in town.
A Christmas movie played on the television. Peter was sprawled across his mother’s and father’s laps, half asleep. Her mother had her fingers working on her latest knitting project, and her dad was involved in the hardcover novel by his favorite author. Lindy knew he wouldn’t be able to resist checking out the book.
“You know what we need to do,” Chad said, extracting himself from Peter and his wife. “Scrabble.”
“Scrabble?” Billy repeated.
“It’s tradition,” Lindy explained. “Every Christmas we all play Scrabble.”
“And work on a jigsaw puzzle,” her dad added.
The puzzle was set up on a card table close to the fireplace. This year, the picture was of Santa coming down the chimney into a living room fully decorated for the holidays. Before dinner, her dad had gotten it going and had started working on the border. Chad had added the entire Christmas tree section near the left-hand side of the border.
Billy had added a few pieces himself. Rarely was the puzzle completely assembled by the end of Christmas Day. It took the week between the two holidays to set the thousand pieces in place and complete the picture. Tradition. The puzzle and a rousing game of Scrabble.
Chad set up the Scrabble board on the dining room table and spread out all the small wooden letters.
“You going to join us, Billy?” Chad asked.
Billy looked to Lindy. “What are the stakes?”
“We play for the privilege of hoping we can beat Dad,” Lindy explained. “This is his game, and he’s practically unstoppable.”
“Watch out for Lindy, too. She can be a creative speller.”
“Very funny, little brother,” she teased back.
Soon the lethargy had left and the six sat around the table while Peter watched cartoons. He bounced between his toys and the television as the game started.
Lindy pulled the Q without a U, and her first word on the board gained her a whopping six points. Not a great start. Her dad’s first word gained him thirteen points. And so it went for the next hour as the board continued to grow with words built up around other words. Once or twice Lindy tried to pull a fast one, insisting her word was in the Webster’s dictionary and was quickly proven wrong. It came as no surprise that her father claimed the crown as the top Scrabble player.
“Has he ever lost?” Billy asked Lindy.
“Once. To Mom, and I think he let her win.”
“He most certainly did not!” her mother insisted, with a quiver to her lips that said everything.
“Chad was born nine months later,” Lindy whispered to Billy.
“Your timing is off by a few years, Lindy.” It seemed her mother had overheard.
“Anyone ready for dessert?”
Billy placed his hands on his flat stomach. “Not long ago I swore I couldn’t swallow another bite.”
“And now?”
“I got a look at that caramel-pecan pie sitting on the kitchen counter and I’ve decided to make the effort.”
“Big of you,” Lindy teased.
“I’ll take pumpkin,” Chad said. “Never did appreciate the fancy pies. Give me apple or pumpkin and I’m a happy man.”
The table was cleared, and the desserts were brought out. Lindy went for the caramel-pecan pie. It tasted as good as the recipe promised.
Soon afterward, Chad and his family headed home. Peter was worn out from all the activity and the excitement of the day. Lindy could tell Ashley was tired, too, as her hand continued to rub the slight swell of her pregnancy belly.
After her brother left, Lindy and Billy cuddled together in front of the television. At ten, her parents excused themselves and went to bed.
“Do you think they left for our benefit?” Billy asked, as he kissed the side of her neck.
“Could be.” That was likely not the case. Her mother had put in a long day and hadn’t napped when most everyone else had taken a short snooze.
“I’ll thank them later,” Billy murmured, close to her ear.
“Pray tell, what do you have in mind, Billy Kincade?”
“If you could read my thoughts, I’d definitely be getting a bag of coal from Santa next Christmas.”
Lindy couldn’t hold back a smile had she tried. “Is that so?”
“You have no idea.”
“Actually, I think I just might.”
Turning her into his arms, Billy kissed her again and again. A commercial played on the television, louder than expected, which broke them apart.
“I have to say, this is the best Christmas I can remember in a long while.”
“Mine, too,” she said.
“It’s because of you, Lindy. I’m doing my best to ignore the fact that you’re returning to Seattle in a week.”
“Me, too,” she admitted.
He reached for her wrist where he’d placed the charm bracelet with the single Santa charm. “My hope is that I’ll be the one adding charms every Christmas until it weighs down your arm to the point you can no longer lift it.”
Lindy didn’t know what to say. Basically, Billy was telling her he wanted to be part of her life from this point forward.
“We’ve been together a week, Billy,” she reminded him. “You can’t say something like that after such a short time.”
His eyes were dark and serious. “What you don’t understand, Lindy, is that you wrote your name on my heart when I was nine years old.”