Livi sat at the kitchen table, crying, dinner preparation long forgotten.
Terryl sat next to her, an arm around her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Livi,” she finally said.
“Don’t be. I’m glad he’s gone. He’s a fake and a creep, and I wish I’d never met him,” Livi finished on a sob.
“Do you? Really?” Terryl asked softly.
“Yes,” Livi insisted. “I had this silly fantasy that I’d met a man who was everything I’d ever wanted, that maybe something could happen between us. It was all so romantic—kisses and walks in the snow and working side by side distributing turkeys and hams and Christmas stockings. And...it was like Disneyland. All pretend. Nothing was real.”
“Except maybe the way you both felt.”
“I could never love a man like that.”
“A man who helped you do all those good things?”
“Don’t you see? It was all a cover, a facade. An act. His heart wasn’t really in any of it. He was just putting on a show.”
Terryl sighed and moved to fill the electric teapot. “I think you need some tea.”
She needed more than tea.
Her father finally braved the storm of female emotions and joined them, David at his heels. He took the chair Terryl had vacated and put an arm around her. “I’m sorry, Snowflake.”
Her dad’s gentle comfort really turned on the tears.
“What a gutless wonder,” David said. “He should have told you who he was.”
“If he had, she’d never have given him the time of day,” said Dad. “I probably wouldn’t have, either. But maybe the man wanted to make a new start. It looked like he was doing a pretty good job while he was here.”
“Yeah, well, a man will do a lot to get into a woman’s pants,” David muttered.
“You are not helping,” his wife scolded.
“She’s better off without him,” David said in his own defense.
Yes, she was. Joe Ford was a fictional creation. He’d come to town, painted a nice story and then, like Frosty the Snowman, melted away. And, unlike Frosty, he wouldn’t be back again someday.
It was almost midnight when Guy’s Maserati finally purred down the snowy driveway to his mom and stepdad’s house on the shores of Lake Coeur d’Alene. He grabbed his overnight and computer bags and the box with the chocolate pot that had started his whole ugly Christmas adventure and went to the door.
His mom threw it open before he could even ring the doorbell. She looked like an ad for a high-end clothing magazine. Tasteful slacks and sweater, fancy scarf knotted at her neck, pearl earrings, hair carefully colored to hide the gray.
“You’re here,” she sang, and drew him to her for a hug. As always, she smelled like Chanel. It was her signature perfume and Dad had gotten it for her every year. Guy had ordered some and had it shipped.
Behind her stood her husband, Del, looking natty in wool slacks and a red cashmere sweater, holding a highball glass in his hand. “Glad you finally made it, Guy. How about something to chase away the cold,” he offered as he and Guy shook hands.
Guy needed to chase away more than the cold. He doubted a drink would get rid of all the depressing thoughts that had been riding with him ever since he left Pine River, but he nodded, dumped his overnight bag and laptop case, and followed them into the enormous living room, carrying the family treasure he’d been commissioned to deliver under his arm.
The decorators had been busy. Fir garlands and gold ribbons hung from the stair railing leading to a second-floor landing, and a tree decorated in gold and red stood guard in the front hall. As he’d predicted, there were the greens and the Mercury glass and candles on the mantelpiece over the mammoth stone fireplace, and there stood the twelve-foot tree lighting up a far corner of the room with enough presents piled beneath it to keep an entire third-world nation busy opening them.
And there sat his stepsisters, Lizbeth and Melianna, both as skinny and fashionable as the last time he’d seen them. He had the same mixed feelings about each one.
Lizbeth had hated his mom on sight, which hadn’t endeared her to Guy. She’d done everything she could to sabotage the relationship, but she’d lost that battle and consoled herself by getting drunk and making a scene at the wedding. Mom had forgiven her and they’d eventually called a truce. They didn’t go shopping or do all those girl things Mom had hoped for once she had daughters, but at least Lizbeth got past making scenes. She’d made a small effort to be nice to Guy and his brothers, giving the impression that she was trying to make up for her earlier tacky behavior, and he was polite in return, but he still couldn’t forgive her for not falling in love with his mom.
Unlike her older sister, Melianna could be bought, and she’d taken advantage of Mom’s generosity early on. She’d made a play for Guy at the wedding and had been both shocked and insulted when he hadn’t jumped at the chance to sleep with her. She still considered him a challenge and loved flirting with him whenever they met—even if she did have a man in tow. Tonight, it looked like she didn’t. She was a spoiled brat but at least she was a fun-loving spoiled brat.
She slid out of her chair and flitted across the room to give him a not so sisterly hug. “Brother dear, about time you got here.”
“Yeah, I’m sure you missed me,” he said, disengaging himself.
“You should have flown in,” Del told him.
“I would have if it wasn’t for this,” he said, and handed over the chocolate pot.
“Thank you, dear,” gushed Mom. “We’ll have to make hot chocolate for Kimmy in it tomorrow,” she said as she opened the box.
“She wanted to stay up and see you,” Lizbeth told Guy, “but it was getting late so I sent her to bed.” Her tone of voice implied it was all Guy’s fault her daughter had been banished from the party.
Just as well. Kimmy was a high-energy kid, who loved being the center of attention, and Guy wasn’t sure he had the emotional energy to deal with her at the moment. She would have been all over him. He’d won her devotion when he danced with her at the wedding, swinging her around until she was helpless with giggles and she’d been his Mini-Me ever since. Yeah, he had that effect on women.
Most of them.
Mom pulled out the china pot from its nest of packing. “Great-grandma’s chocolate pot,” she said happily. “Limoges.”
Melianna looked over Mom’s shoulder. “Nice,” she said. “What a cool thing to pass on to one of your daughters.” Hint, hint.
Mom didn’t take the hint. “It has a lot of sentimental value,” she said, setting it on the coffee table. “How was your drive?” she asked Guy as she pulled out the tiny cups and saucers that went with it.
Miserable, filled with regret. “Long and boring,” he lied, and accepted a drink from Del.
“We’ll make sure your time here isn’t boring,” Melianna said with a wink.
Melianna making sure he didn’t get bored. Oh joy.
Another man joined them now—Lizbeth’s husband, a short, loud man addicted to working out at the gym and playing tennis. He and Guy had played once when Guy and Bryan came out for the Fourth of July. Guy had won two straight sets in a row, 6-0 and 6-1, and they’d never played again.
He gave Guy a clap on the shoulder. “Glad you could make it.”
No, he wasn’t. Not really. And his wife sure didn’t care one way or the other. As for Melianna, she’d entertain herself flirting with him but she’d tire of that game before his visit was over. And Kimmy would adore him until it was time to open presents. Del liked him well enough and enjoyed talking business with him but was well aware of the fact that he’d come on the scene too late to be a father figure. They were friends by marriage. Sort of. Other than his mom, none of these people had cared one way or another whether Guy showed up. He was an extra body at a table that wasn’t his. He sighed inwardly and prepared for a long Christmas Day.
The day started early, with Kimmy up before the birds. He heard footsteps running down the hall past his guest room at five, along with excited squealing, and figured any minute he’d be summoned downstairs to open presents. Her mom must have sent her back to bed though because there was no summons and the squeals turned to whining and then to silence.
Until six. Then the entire household gave up and got up.
“I don’t know why she can’t stay in bed and play with the things in her Christmas stocking,” Lizbeth complained as she filled her mug of coffee to take out to the living room, where her daughter was already gleefully exclaiming over the new bike Santa had brought her.
“I never could wait,” Guy said, helping himself to a pastry. He and his brothers always got up at the first hint of sunrise. “Go back to bed” were words that were never uttered on Christmas morning in their house.
“Boys are little beasts,” Lizbeth said, putting him in his place. “Thank God we had a girl.”
Who would hopefully not grow up to be like her mom.
Although it looked like she was going to grow up to be like her aunt. Both Melianna and little Kimmy appeared to specialize in greed. Melianna tore through her presents almost as fast as Kimmy, who was going at it like a frenzied terrier, barely acknowledging one before grabbing the next and pulling off the wrapping. Hair chalk, the present Guy had shipped to her, had been a big hit, earning cries of delight and a quick hug, and he was glad Mom had given him the suggestion.
“She’s going to be as vain as her aunt,” Lizbeth said, rolling her eyes as Kimmy ripped open the next package.
“I’m not vain,” Melianna insisted. “I’m simply honest about my assets and believe in maintaining them.” She, too, was happy with the present Guy had given her. “You can never go wrong with jewelry,” she said, thanking him. “Well, unless it’s cheap,” she added.
That necklace hadn’t been.
Lizbeth’s husband had gotten her jewelry, also. “Wrong color,” she murmured with a toss of her well-styled golden hair. “But I’ll exchange it.”
“Next year I’ll just give you a check,” her husband grumbled.
“Good idea,” she said, and kissed him on the cheek.
Guy couldn’t help it. He found himself comparing his stepsisters to Olivia Berg. Would she have sneered at a diamond bracelet because it was the wrong color?
Was the Berg family awake yet? Opening presents?
“Come on, sis, quit screwing around,” David called as Livi loaded pastries on her favorite holiday platter.
“Coming,” she called back. She picked up the plate and her mug with her eggnog latte in it and hurried out to the living room.
Even though there were no little kids in the house, they’d all gotten up at seven, thanks to David racing up and down the hallway, announcing it was Christmas morning and time to get up. Who needed kids when they had David, the biggest kid of all?
While Livi made coffee, he’d turned on the tree lights and found Christmas music for them to listen to. Now he sat on the couch holding his mug, with his arm around Terryl, both wearing matching hooded holiday footie pajamas. Dad wore the bathrobe Livi had given him the year before over his pajamas and was in his favorite chair. Livi, too, was in crazy pajamas, ones that Terryl had given her the night before, insisting she had to wear them when opening presents. All part of the holiday fun.
Livi wished she was in the mood for fun. She reminded herself that Christmas morning was no place for unhappiness and regret. This was the season for joy and kindness and gratitude. So what if her holiday fantasy had fizzled? She still had her family and that was what counted.
“Okay, let’s get to it,” said David. He grabbed himself a pastry and knelt in front of the tree, digging among the packages. “Here’s one for Dad.” He pulled out a flat package wrapped in silver paper and decorated with a red bow, and handed it over. “Man to man,” he added.
“Thanks, son.” Dad opened it to discover a framed picture that Livi had taken of them fishing at the river a few summers back. “I’ll have to hang this someplace special,” he said.
It was so good to see her father smiling at Christmas. It edged away a little of the sadness, and Livi couldn’t help but smile, too.
“And for you from us, sis,” David said, handing her a gift bag with a heft that hinted at a book inside.
Sure enough, it was a fat treasury of holiday recipes. “I love it,” she said, hugging it to her.
“Terryl said you would,” her brother told her. “Although I thought you could find any recipe you wanted online these days.”
You could and she did. She was addicted to Pinterest and haunted foodie websites on a regular basis. “But there’s something special about a cookbook.”
“We expect great things of you next Christmas,” Terryl said to her. “Speaking of expecting, open that one to you,” she said to David.
He pulled a small box out from under the tree. “All right, a signed baseball,” he joked.
“Aw, you guessed,” said his wife.
He pulled off the wrapping and opened the box. His easy smile turned to wonder as he pulled out a baby rattle. “Whoa, what’s this?”
“My present to you, babe. I just took the test a couple days ago. We’re pregnant.”
“No way. Oh, Terryl, wow.”
“That’s the best Christmas present ever,” said Dad as David hugged her.
“It sure is,” David said.
“I can hardly wait for us to tell my family later today,” she said.
“I can hardly wait for us to have the kid,” David said. “Man, this is the best Christmas ever.”
“Congratulations, you two,” Livi said, and hugged them. “What do you want, a girl or a boy?”
“A girl,” said David.
“A boy,” said Terryl. “Girls are a pain,” she told her husband. “All that drama.”
“I like drama,” David assured her.
“I have to admit, little girl clothes are so cute,” said Terryl.
“And if it’s a girl we can bake together,” put in Livi.
“And if it’s a boy Dad and I can take him fishing,” David said.
“Or if it’s a girl,” Livi corrected him.
“So, really, it doesn’t matter what we have as long as the baby’s healthy,” said Terryl.
“And as good-looking as my wife,” David said, and kissed her.
Livi raised her coffee mug in salute. “Well, then, here’s to a healthy baby.”
“To a healthy baby,” everyone echoed.
Their family was growing, and this time next year they’d have a baby in the living room with them. It was exciting news and Livi was happy for her brother and sister-in-law.
But, she realized, she was also a little bit jealous. The best Christmas ever, her brother had said. She wished she could say the same for herself.
Okay, so not the best Christmas ever but not the worst, either. The worst had been their first one without Mom. What was losing a potential dream man compared to that?
And that whole thing with Joe...Guy...whatever, had been a silly, impractical dream. Middle-class girl on limited income meets Prince Charming in a Santa suit and lives happily ever after. Really? So silly. But she was back in the real world now, with real people. And that was where she was going to stay from now on.
The family finished opening their presents—silly holiday socks from Livi to David as well as his favorite old-fashioned hard candy, a pretty snowflake ornament for her from her father to hang on the tree, the crossword puzzle book for Dad, which he said he loved. Terryl was delighted with the scarf Livi had knit and Livi was equally delighted with the Starbucks gift card from her and David.
Then that was it. After hanging around for another couple of hours, Terryl and David packed up their things and went on to the next family gathering to share their good news.
On the way out the door, David almost tripped over something. “What the heck?”
There sat the floral arrangement Guy had showed up with the night before, mocking Livi.
“Toss that thing,” David instructed her.
He didn’t have to tell her. As soon as she and Dad had waved them away, she marched to the kitchen and threw it in the garbage.
She’d barely gotten rid of it when Morris called. “Do you want a ride to the hall?” His voice sounded unsure. Underlying message: Are you speaking to me?
Part of her wanted to stay home and feel sorry for herself, but Christmas from the Heart had a community dinner to put on. “Sure,” she said, trying to inject some enthusiasm into her voice.
“Okay, I’ll be there in an hour.”
True to his word, he arrived right on time. He looked leery as she climbed into his truck, as if bracing for a scold.
But it wasn’t his fault he’d been the bearer of bad news. How ironic that she’d been so mad at him for the way he’d treated Joe, no, Guy, when really Guy had deserved every bit of that bad treatment and then some.
“Are you doin’ okay?” he asked.
“I’m fine,” she said to both him and herself.
She handed over the calendar she’d gotten him and his eyes widened. “You got me something?”
“I always get you something.”
“Yeah, but this year, after... I didn’t think...”
“Just open it.”
He did and smiled at the red Corvette on the cover. “This is awesome. I got something for you, too,” he said, looking suddenly self-conscious. “I wasn’t sure you’d want anything from me.” He handed her an oversize card envelope.
“Oh, Morris,” she said sadly. “How could you think that?”
“You were pretty pissed after the restaurant. And I deserved it,” he hurried on.
Yes, he had. He’d acted stupidly.
But then, who was she to talk. She’d been pretty stupid herself.
“Open it,” he urged.
She did. The card pictured a nativity scene. Printed beneath it in gold script were the words “Good news, Good cheer.” She opened it and out fell a necklace with a small heart pendant and a check for fifty dollars. She picked up the check and saw it was made out to Christmas from the Heart.
“Oh, Morris,” she said, tears filling her eyes.
“I didn’t do that because of anything that happened,” he hurried to explain. “I had it planned long before...for a while.”
“Thank you,” Livi said, smiling at him. “It’s a wonderful present. And I love the necklace.”
He nodded, satisfied with her gratitude, and put the truck in Drive. “I know I should say I’m sorry about how things turned out, Livi, but I can’t. Yeah, I was jealous, but all along I thought he wasn’t good enough for you. Not that I am,” he hurried to add.
Morris was honest and trustworthy, which put him head and shoulders above Guy Hightower. “Don’t say that, Morris. In fact, don’t say anything. Let’s not talk about this, okay?”
He nodded. “Okay.”
They rode the rest of the way in silence, Livi brooding and Morris probably wondering when she was ever going to appreciate him.
Right now, she told herself later as he helped her and the other Christmas from the Heart volunteers serve ham and turkey, mashed potatoes and green beans to the people in the community who were in need.
Morris really was the whole package: kind, caring, responsible. Honest. She’d be a fool to look further.
“Another successful meal completed,” Tillie said later as she dried her hands on a dish towel.
“Thanks for coming in early to cook,” Livi said to her.
“Cooking a couple of turkeys, heating ham—nothing to it,” Tillie said, waving away her thanks as if that had been all there was to it. “I guess that nice young Joe Ford had to get going to be with his family.”
Livi nodded and left it at that. He’d had to get going, all right. And now he needed to stay gone.
Christmas dinner with Mom and Del and the gang featured caramelized onion tarts, standing rib roast, cider-roasted vegetables, Brussels sprouts with pecans, and yams drizzled with maple syrup. At one point Guy found himself thinking how much his mother would have liked Livi Berg. They’d have enjoyed being in the kitchen together, getting creative.
He found his mother studying him. “How is everything?” she asked.
“Delicious,” he said, bringing out a smile and forking up some yams.
It was a Bon Appétit worthy menu; everything was washed down with the finest of wine. The table centerpiece was an elaborate display of greens and candles set in red Mercury glass that carried out the theme Mom’s decorators had used throughout the house. Everything was perfect except for the fact that Guy was with the wrong people.
Kimmy had indulged in too much candy and could barely sit still in her seat. She’d begged to sit by Guy, the only one besides his mom who’d paid much attention to her, and she’d bombarded him with ceaseless chatter until her mother snapped, “Enough talk. Eat your dinner.”
Kimmy got that hurt look kids wore when they’d been unjustly scolded and pushed a Brussels sprout around her plate.
“Mother of the year,” murmured Melianna.
“Next year when she wakes up at five we’ll send her in with you,” Lizbeth threatened.
“Or you can come in with your grandpa and me,” Mom said. “We’ll have a no-slumber party.”
Kimmy liked the sound of that and her sunny mood returned.
“Guy, I thought for sure you’d have someone with you this year,” Melianna said to him. “Still can’t decide what you want?” she teased. Underlying message: You could still have me.
Guy knew exactly what he wanted now. Too late.
“How about you?” he asked, turning the tables on her. “How many hearts have you broken since I saw you last?”
“None,” she replied lightly. “At least not on purpose.”
“You’re both young,” Mom said. “You have time to find someone special.”
The hourglass had run out for Guy. He poured himself more wine.
Dessert was Mom’s traditional chocolate yule log. It was spectacular. Guy ate it and thought of sugar cookies.
After dessert, the family moved into the living room for coffee and brandy and more conversation.
“I’m bored,” Kimmy announced.
Del frowned. “You just got an entire pile of toys. Play with some of them.”
Kimmy fell into a sulk and kicked at the box containing all manner of arts and crafts supplies.
“Here, dear,” Mom said easily. “Bring over your hair chalk and let’s make your hair pretty.”
“So tacky,” Lizbeth muttered.
No, tacky was setting aside the costly present your husband gave you without so much as a thank-you. Guy vowed to find a way to spend time with his mom alone in the future. Once again, he wondered what was going on at the Berg house. They were probably entertaining the neighbors now, not sniping over who hadn’t gotten what they wanted for Christmas. Or maybe Olivia was already off, feeding the world.
Guy left the living room and wandered out to the kitchen in search of more of the holiday shortbread his mom had made for him. On the way, he stopped at the liquor cabinet in the dining room and poured himself a drink. Milk would have gone better with the cookies, but booze went better with the stepfamily.
His mom found him lounging at the kitchen table later, nursing his drink, a couple of cookies on a plate in front of him. Sounds drifted in from another part of the house—a raised male voice, a child bursting into tears.
“Are you having fun yet?” she teased.
“Oh yeah, tons.” He shook his head. “How do you stand these people, Mom?”
“Easy. I do it for Del’s sake. I’m afraid his wife spoiled the girls and he wasn’t around much when they were little, so now he spoils them, too. But really, we don’t see that much of them. A couple of days at Christmas, a week during the summer. I can live with that.”
“Are you happy?”
She shrugged. “As happy as someone can be who lost the love of her life. Del’s a good man,” she hurried to add.
“Yeah, he is,” Guy acknowledged, and downed the last of his drink.
“Speaking of happy, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Guy Jamison Hightower, don’t lie to me. I can always tell when something’s bothering you.”
He shrugged. “Just life, I guess.”
“The business?”
He shrugged again. That was as good a reason to not be happy as any.
She studied him. “Did something happen in Pine River I don’t know about?”
A lot had happened in Pine River she didn’t know about. “I met someone.”
“And?” she prompted.
“And it’s not going to work out.”
“Why on earth not? Why wouldn’t any woman in her mind want my wonderful son?”
“Because he’s not that wonderful.”
“Nonsense,” she said crisply. “Now, tell me about this someone.”
He did. He spilled the whole ugly tale, ending with his and Livi’s parting words on her front porch.
“You should have been up front from the beginning,” Mom said, telling him what he already knew.
“Yeah, I should have. But she was so nice and so happy to give me a lift into town. And then, the more time I spent with her the harder it got. I wanted to say something, wanted to explain why we didn’t give to Christmas from the Heart this year.”
“And why didn’t we?”
“Because we didn’t have as much to give and went with other nonprofits. What’s so wrong with that?” Nope, not defensive. Not him.
“Nothing, if your motives were pure. Who were you trying to help the most, those nonprofits or Hightower’s public image?”
“Both,” he said.
She didn’t say anything, just cocked her head and studied him.
“Why does everyone have to make business owners out to be shits?” he demanded in exasperation. “I’d like to see Olivia Berg step in and run the finances of a company. Then maybe she’d see the big picture.”
“She is running a company,” his mother pointed out. “And maybe she saw more than made you comfortable.”
“Thanks, Mom. You’re really helping,” he said bitterly.
She laid a hand over his. “You know I think you’re wonderful. But, like all of us, you’re not perfect.”
“I never said I was.”
He didn’t claim to be a saint. He sure hadn’t made any such claim to Livi. He’d only claimed not to be a shit.
“But you do tend to get your back up when criticized. Do you think you might have gotten a little defensive when you two had that last conversation?”
Conversation? It had been an argument, and a heated one at that.
“You’re right,” he said, and pushed away his glass. That so-called apology on Livi’s porch had been a disaster.
“No one likes humble pie, but a wise man knows when to eat it,” his mother said gently.
Too late for that. He’d already consumed a double helping of high horse.
“This woman sounds special, worth getting to know better.”
“That won’t be happening now,” Guy muttered. He shook his head. “I really blew it.”
“People do change their minds, Guy. When there’s a reason to. Sounds to me like you have to give her a reason.”
Easier said than done, but he nodded.
“You’ll find a way to work things out,” she said, giving his arm one final pat. “Now, come on out in the living room and be sociable. We’re going to play Christmas twenty questions with Kimmy.”
Twenty questions, great. Animal, mineral or vegetable. He knew what he was: mineral, a walking lump of coal. And nobody ever wanted a lump of coal in her stocking.
He did his best to be sociable but the evening stretched on forever. First thing the next morning he was ready to leave.
“I hate to see you go so soon,” his mom said when he told her. “You just got here.” Once more, it was only the two of them at the kitchen table.
“I can’t take any more,” he said, and took a final swig from his coffee mug. “I’ll come back when it’s just you and Del.”
She nodded her understanding. “I don’t blame you. You didn’t marry them. I did. And that’s how it goes when you say yes to someone. You say yes to all the people who come with that person.”
Guy thought of all the people who came with Livi. He’d happily say yes to all of them. Well, all except Bentley.
The rest of the household was still asleep when he slipped down the stairs with his duffel bag and computer, even little Kimmy, who’d finally gotten worn-out from her holiday high. His mom was waiting at the front door with a thermos of coffee to keep him going, and something else, as well.
“You have some repair work ahead of you. Maybe this will help,” she said, and gave him a check for five thousand dollars made out to Christmas from the Heart. “But when you go back to that girl, make sure you bring her more than a check.”
He wasn’t going to go back. She wouldn’t want to see him. She would be happy to see the check, though. He’d mail it as soon as he got home.
And wish he had the guts to take a chance on delivering it in person.
Really, though, what good would it do? Money could buy a lot of things. But respect wasn’t one of them.