Holding two cups of hot chocolate, Abby stood on the perimeter of the promenade and watched the vibrant, boisterous festivities, expecting to feel a familiar heaviness.
She’d assumed the rural, coastal town would lack Christmas cheer, and thus be the perfect place to avoid the holidays. Besides the obvious lack of snowfall—Logan said it only happened once every thirty years or so—plus, the salty breeze, abundance of seafood, and sandy shoreline, it simply didn’t seem Christmassy.
Of course, she couldn’t have been more wrong.
Round tables surrounded the gigantic Christmas tree, arranged with ornament-making stations for adults and children alike. Local vendors lined the street filling the air with the sweet, intoxicating aroma of gingerbread churros, hot fudge sundaes with eggnog ice cream, and funnel cakes topped with sugar plum preserves. A four-piece band performed Christmas carols on top of a small podium with the moonlit ocean as a backdrop.
The entire scene should have evoked the dull ache in her heart, bringing back memories of Donnie, reminding her of how deeply she missed him. Instead, a strange numbness spread through her body, as though she wasn’t sure what to feel anymore.
“You came.” The woman from CeCe’s—Sage, if she remembered correctly—walked toward her, smiling warmly. “I wasn’t sure you’d make it.”
“I wasn’t planning on it,” Abby confessed, returning her smile. “But Max wanted to come.” Her gaze drifted to the craft table where Logan and Max made snowmen out of seashells.
“I heard about what you did, taking him in like that. It’s pretty brave.”
“Or foolish,” Abby countered with a rueful grin. “I have no idea what I’m doing.”
“Does any parent?”
Startled, Abby met her gaze. She wasn’t a parent. Taking in Max was temporary.
Sage continued to smile, her billowy curls blowing about her face. There was something so easy and authentic about her, as though she had no trouble saying whatever was on her mind. In that regard, she reminded her of Nadia. Though, in other ways, they couldn’t be more different.
“How’s the whole skipping Christmas plan going?” Sage asked.
“It pretty much went out the window,” Abby admitted without a trace of regret or bitterness. “Max deserves a wonderful Christmas, and I want to give him one, more than anything. But I’m not sure I have what it takes to make it happen.” She meant decorations and supplies, but she supposed, deep down, she meant more than that, too.
She watched as Max held up his ornament, showing it to Logan for approval. Logan smiled down at him and gave him a pat on the back for a job well done. Max beamed with uncontainable joy.
“I think you have more than you realize,” Sage said softly, following her gaze. “Do you want to make an ornament?”
“No, I don’t think so.” She thought of the one she and Donnie made last year but never hung on the tree. It sat at the bottom of a box in the back of her storage unit.
Max caught her eye, lifting his ornament higher for her to see.
She pressed a hand to her heart, touched that he’d thought of her in his excitement.
He waved her over, and then Logan joined in.
“Looks like you’re being summoned,” Sage told her with a laugh. “Come on. We’ll start you on one of the easy ornaments.”
Abby followed a few feet behind, her steps tentative. She’d sent herself on a hot chocolate run, hoping to avoid getting roped into the activity.
Trying to put together a nice Christmas for Max was one thing. But could she really take part in this particular tradition without Donnie?
Logan sensed Abby’s hesitation as she stared at the pile of craft materials in front of her. He was about to step in and explain the instructions when Max beat him to it.
“You have to glue these pieces together first.” Max pushed the three different sizes of smooth, white seashells toward her, arranging them in order of biggest to smallest. “See? That’s the snowman’s body.”
“I see.” Abby smiled, although the uncertain glint never left her eyes. “And what are these for?” She pointed toward tubes of puffy paint.
“That’s so you can decorate it. See. Like mine.” He grinned at the hodgepodge of vibrant colors bedecking his seashells.
“You gave your snowman a very nice Christmas sweater.”
“And this one is wearing a bathing suit.” He beamed proudly, then his smile wavered. “What are we going to do with them? The lady said one goes on the big tree and we get to take the other one home. But we don’t have a tree at our house.”
Logan’s heart went a little gooey when Max said “we” and referred to his house as “ours.” He stole a glance at Abby, whose eyes looked glossy all of a sudden.
“Actually…” He cleared his throat. “We do have a tree at home.”
Abby met his gaze in surprise. “We do?”
“I never had the heart to get rid of the one we bought the other day. It’s still in the garage. I could put it up tomorrow, if you want.”
“Can we?” Max’s face lit up in excitement.
Abby’s features softened. “Of course. An ornament as amazing as yours definitely belongs on a tree.”
“Woo-hoo!” Max pumped his fist in the air.
A chorus of cheers erupted behind them as Santa appeared in the crowd and a swarm of kids ran to greet him.
Santa—the same man from the general store checkout line—made his way to a regal-looking chair beside the large Christmas tree, toting a red velvet sack bursting at the seams.
Max stared, wide-eyed and completely mystified.
“Do you want to join the other kids?” Logan asked. “Looks like Santa is passing out presents.” He’d noticed a donation drop-off location at the store earlier that week. One toy would be passed out to each child tonight, and the rest would be donated to a local charity.
“I don’t think so.” Max shook his head.
“Why not?” Abby asked gently.
Max shrugged. “The Hobarts said Santa didn’t have any presents for me this year. I don’t think I was good enough.”
Logan’s jaw clenched so hard he almost took a chunk out of his cheek. What kind of people said something like that to a little kid?
He struggled for the right words to say, anything to undo the damage, but came up blank.
Abby leaned forward and placed a hand on Max’s hunched shoulder. “Max, that isn’t true. You’re wonderful. But it really isn’t about being good enough. A gift is given out of love, it doesn’t have to be earned. Now, you go over there with the other kids. I guarantee Santa has a present for you.”
His smile resurfacing, Max scrambled out of his seat and headed toward the huddle of children by Santa’s feet.
“Wow.” Logan stared at Abby in awe.
“What?” Her face flushed.
“I’ve never heard anything like that before.”
“I know. I don’t know where that came from.” Flustered, she shook a bottle of puffy paint a little too vigorously. “I probably ruined the whole philosophy of Santa Claus and the naughty and nice list. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
She continued to brandish the bottle with punishing fervor, and Logan set a hand over hers to quiet the volatile movement. “I think it was exactly what Max needed to hear.”
Some of the tension seeped out of her shoulders. “This parenting thing is harder than it looks.” She set the bottle on the table, but her fingers found something else to absorb their nervous energy.
The tender way she touched the barely visible chain told him it was more than a trinket; more like a lifeline. But to what, he wasn’t sure.
“What’s that necklace you’re always wearing? Something Donnie gave you?” Expensive jewelry was exactly the sort of big, romantic gesture Donnie would’ve loved.
“Sort of.” She slowly lifted it into view.
The festive lights from the Christmas tree reflected off the stainless steel dog tag, and Logan rocked back in his seat.
It wasn’t at all what he’d expected.
He met Abby’s gaze.
“I haven’t taken it off since Donnie died. I guess it’s kind of like he’s still with me, somehow. Which probably seems silly.”
“Not at all.” His voice sounded huskier than usual, and he swallowed against the dryness.
He imagined a lot of military wives felt the same way as Abby, and he briefly wondered if she had a circle of other women whom she could talk to about stuff like this. Generally speaking, military wives were pretty close. Even his ex had found her circle fairly quickly, like she’d been born into it. In fact, she’d never dated anyone outside of the Air Force, almost as if it was more about the uniform than the man wearing it. Which, in hindsight, should’ve been a red flag.
“Do you keep in touch with any military wives?”
“My friend Nadia is dating another test pilot, one of Donnie’s friends. But we don’t talk about Donnie all that much.”
“How come?”
“I suppose because she still has Brian, and I don’t want to make her worry about his safety all the time. Plus, she wouldn’t understand, anyway. She doesn’t believe in soul mates.” She glanced up, her gaze curious. “Do you?”
He hesitated a moment before answering, not wanting to sound callous, but he didn’t want to lie to her. “No, I don’t.”
She couldn’t hide her disappointment. “Any particular reason?”
He shifted, uncomfortably warm despite the frigid air.
“You won’t hurt my feelings. I honestly want to know.”
“Well…” He took a deep breath. “I guess I don’t believe in soul mates because I’ve seen too many people lose loved ones way too early. If I believed in soul mates, I’d have to believe those people only got one shot at love. And frankly, that doesn’t seem fair.”
Abby dropped the dog tag down the collar of her sweater, a noticeable shift in her demeanor. “A lot of things in life aren’t fair.”
She had a point. He thought of Donnie, his parents, his own injury, and Max’s situation….
He didn’t have a rebuttal, but that didn’t mean he agreed with her about everyone having only one true love in life.
Although, considering his own muddled feelings for the woman sitting across from him, he might not have an unbiased opinion on the matter.