7

The moment Maddie opened her eyes the next morning, her misgivings about Leo and Olivia jolted her fully awake—and not in a good way.

She dashed both her worries and her comforter to the side. After padding into her apartment’s kitchen, she got a pot of coffee brewing.

Today was Christmas Eve. Christmas Eve! She and Leo were due at Kim Huntington’s house at ten this morning to unload the Mission:Christmas haul they’d carefully stockpiled for her and her girls over the past weeks.

It was going to be a busy day. A wonderful day, full of Leo and Kim and then her extended family this evening. She didn’t have time for misgivings.

When Maddie spotted Leo’s car parked in Kim’s driveway, anticipation rained through her like sparkling confetti.

Leo exited his car while she parked. She loved the way his clothes fit him. His jacket’s collar stood up, framing his neck. Simple black sweater. Jeans.

“Good morning,” he said as she approached.

“Morning.” They stood, beaming at each other under a cold white sky. Maddie wasn’t exactly sure how to interact with him now that a new understanding—we like each other—lived between them. It was an understanding brimming with possibilities.

They popped their respective trunks. When Leo spotted her trying to lift out a heavy box, he rushed over to help. “Here. Let me.” He toted the box, and she carried bags in both hands as they made their first trip up the front walkway. Kim lived in a tidy one-story Cape Cod revival style house with windows symmetrically placed on either side of her recessed front door.

Maddie rang the bell with her elbow and gave a satisfied sigh. “I love Christmas Eve.”

“It’s the second best day of the year, next to Christmas.”

“Christmas Eve may edge out Christmas Day, in my opinion. Christmas Day is full of”—she hunted for the right word—“revelation, but Christmas Eve is full of expectation. Which might be even sweeter.” Expectation is a very sweet thing indeed, isn’t it, Leo?

Now that he’d invited her on a dinner and dancing date, the snapping attraction between them was so blatantly obvious that she couldn’t believe she’d been unsure of it for so long.

Kim swung the door wide. “Hello! Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas,” Maddie and Leo replied.

“Heavens to Betsy!” Kim waved them in. “This is so exciting. The girls are playing at a friend’s house because I wanted them to be surprised when they come home and find Christmas gifts under the tree.”

“Excellent strategy,” Maddie said.

“Did you bring your little boy?” Kim asked Leo.

“No, I dropped him off with his grandmother earlier this morning. Unloading and organizing aren’t his specialties.” A smile settled across his lips. “His grandmother has a lunch date scheduled at 11:30, so she’s planning to drop him off here on her way.”

“Wonderful.”

They set the first round of deliveries on Kim’s dining room table.

“Oh!” Kim said, taking a package from one of the bags. “You’ve wrapped some of the gifts. How thoughtful.”

“We wrapped all of the gifts,” Maddie answered. “We also attached gift tags to each. If you want to unwrap some of them and set them out instead, go right ahead, of course. We just wanted to save you time and effort if we could.”

Kim’s appreciative gaze moved from Maddie to Leo, then back to Maddie. “Thank you. I really love the wrapping paper you chose.”

Kim was a Southern belle. Maddie had guessed that she’d like a traditional Christmas decorating scheme with just a little bit of fancy thrown in. They’d bought wrapping paper in complementing patterns of red, green, and white, plus lots of wide, shimmery ribbon.

All three of them made multiple trips to the driveway to bring everything in. Imperishable groceries they’d shopped for days ago and the perishable groceries that Maddie had picked up just this morning. Gifts upon gifts. They helped Kim put everything where she wanted it, then cleaned up after themselves.

When they were done, a wide ring of presents encircled the tree that Leo and Maddie had purchased for Kim weeks before. Maddie stood next to Leo, so close that their upper arms brushed, as they admired the final result of their efforts.

Joy, the sort of joy that Christmas is truly about—the kind that springs from hope and from putting the needs of others before your own—expanded within Maddie until it permeated every point of her body. In God’s upside-down economy, He’d made sure that the person who served another would somehow become the one most richly blessed.

“Good job, Maddie.”

“Good job, Leo. We did it. Together.”

Kim returned from the back of the house and presented each of them with a gift that had clearly been wrapped by a child. “Victoria, Samantha, and I wanted to do a little something for you, to thank you. It’s small and certainly not in any way big enough to acknowledge the magnitude of what you’ve done for us. But I want you to know that we really are grateful.”

“This is so kind of you.” Maddie tore open the wrapping paper to reveal a flat, wooden Christmas tree approximately six inches tall. She glanced over and saw that Leo had received the same.

“The girls just love Mod Podge,” Kim explained. “You know that sticky craft glue? Anyway, they go crazy for it. They had a blast making these for y’all.”

It appeared that the girls had cut out Christmas motifs from magazines and created a collage of them over the surface of the tree. Not a millimeter of the wood showed through the charming plaster of pictures of candles, ornaments, snow, sleds, and hot chocolate. There were also angels, Mary and Joseph, the cross, and a graphic of Jesus’s manger, with golden rays shooting out from it. “I’ll treasure it,” Maddie said.

“Thank you,” Leo told Kim.

“Thank you,” Kim replied. “Both of you. Thank you so, so much.” She hugged Leo. “I can’t tell you how much this means to us.”

She moved to Maddie and gave her a hug. When Kim pulled back, her eyes were wet, and she had to dash her fingers underneath her lashes. “These things that you’ve brought are more than material things. They’re a reminder that I’m not on my own. God is still with me and God still provides. He always makes a way, amen?” She sniffed and smiled tremulously.

“He always makes a way,” Maddie agreed.

“I’m looking forward to seeing you in the office at Abbott once the spring semester begins,” Leo said to Kim.

“Me too! Me too.” She gestured toward herself. “Come back over here for one more hug, Leo.”

After Leo had spoken with Human Resources at Abbott, Kim had been called in for an interview. A week ago, she’d been offered an admissions assistant position while the current admissions assistant was on maternity leave.

If Kim ended up impressing the administrators at Abbott as much as she’d impressed Maddie, then, who knows, her temporary job might become a stepping-stone to something more permanent at Abbott. Regardless, it addressed Kim’s most urgent need: income for the near future.

“And one more hug for you, too,” Kim said to Maddie.

Clasped in Kim’s strong arms, a verse crystallized in Maddie’s mind. The LORD gave, and the LORD has taken away.

He’d taken away from Kim. But He’d given, too. He’d given her two girls. An opportunity at Abbott. He’d ensured that she’d be able to make this Christmas a memorable one for her family, despite the challenges.

Leo and Maddie said their good-byes and returned Kim’s wave as they walked toward their cars.

Usually the two of them were surrounded by other people, like at last night’s party or at the stores they’d visited. It was rare and luxurious to be with Leo like she was now. No one within earshot. No one looking.

They chatted about his Christmas Eve plans with Charlie and her plans with her family. As they spoke, she buttoned her green coat against the chilly weather. The brooch she’d affixed to it preened with historic beauty. It almost seemed smug in its role of family heirloom. Generations had come and gone, but it had endured.

The cold was probably turning the tip of her nose pink, but she didn’t want their time together to end. So long as Leo was here with her, she’d stand on this spot until frostbite set in.

The phone calls and texts and lunch appointments they’d shared had been like gold to her, each one something to look forward to, something to delight in, something to remember over and over. Now that the task that had tied them together was complete, how often would she see him?

A gust of wind blew tendrils of her hair in front of her eyes. Before she could extricate her hands from her jacket pockets, Leo reached out, delicately caught the strands, and smoothed them out of her face. For a split second, he met her gaze. Then his vision fell to his fingers as he settled her hair back into place. With a look of pure concentration on his handsome features, he traced the outer shell of her ear then let his fingers trail a few inches down the side of her neck.

Conversation had ceased. Maddie couldn’t have said anything if she’d wanted to. Her heart was beating double time—

From off to the side came the loud sound of someone clearing their throat.

Leo and Maddie instantly stepped apart, turning toward the noise.

Olivia’s mother, Deb, crossed the street toward them.

Maddie’s stomach sank. Deb had always been a what-you-see-is-what-you-get type of person. Equal parts blunt, opinionated, generous, and self-deprecating.

Maddie and Leo had been so wrapped up in each other that they hadn’t noticed that Deb had parked across the street from Kim’s house. She’d left her car running, driver’s side door ajar. Maddie could clearly see Charlie strapped into his car seat in the back, his attention directed at the car’s built-in TV screen.

How much had Deb seen?

She must have seen all of it.

In the process of dropping Charlie off with Leo, Olivia’s mother had stumbled upon the two of them.

“What’s going on here?” Deb asked. She was an attractive brunette, dressed today in soft pants and a red tunic accessorized with a silk scarf imprinted with candy canes.

“Deb—” Leo began calmly.

“No need to answer,” Deb interrupted. “I can see what’s going on.” She motioned toward her car. “Charlie’s with me, Leo. I don’t think he saw what I saw, but what if he did?” Disappointment carved brackets into the skin on either side of her mouth. “Olivia was your friend,” she said to Maddie.

Heat flamed in Maddie’s cheeks. “She was.”

“Well.” Deb drew herself up. “I’m not sure she would have approved of what I just saw.”

“Whether or not she would have approved is a moot point,” Leo said. “Olivia’s been gone for more than two years.” He spoke gently but without apology. He regarded Deb levelly, with just a trace of warning in his expression.

I’m not sure she would have approved. Deb’s words penetrated right to the center of Maddie’s own concerns. Suddenly, she could no longer evade those concerns. Suddenly, it didn’t matter if she was too busy or too happy to let them in. Deb had dragged them all out.

“We can talk about this later,” Leo said to Deb.

“Daddy!” Charlie’s voice rang from within his grandmother’s car. He waved. “Hi, Maddie!”

“Hi, sweetheart,” she called back. Then to Leo and Deb, “I need to head out. I’ll see you both later.” She’d managed to speak pleasantly, but she didn’t have it in her to look either of them in the face or to hang around long enough to hear their response.

As soon as she pulled into her apartment’s parking lot, she texted Britt.

Britt, in true friend fashion, had driven straight to Maddie’s apartment when she’d received Maddie’s text. Maddie had just finished bringing her up to speed on all that had transpired between her and Leo last night and this morning.

“You know how Deb is,” Britt said. “She often speaks without thinking.”

“She might speak without thinking, but she definitely says what she means. She wasn’t happy about Leo and me.”

“Her reaction may have had more to do with surprise and grief than anything else. She’ll come around.” Britt was perched on the edge of the coffee table, directly across from Maddie’s position on the sofa. Britt pulled one of Sweet Art’s miniature boxes, just large enough for two truffles, from her purse and handed it over. “I was at the shop making Christmas truffles for my family when I got your text. I figured that missing your twice-daily dose of chocolate was guaranteed to make this situation worse.”

“You’re supposed to be taking the day off. Sweet Art’s closed.”

“Not to me when I want to make Christmas truffles for my family.”

“I’m not family.”

“Just about,” Britt insisted, giving Maddie a staunch, direct look.

Hot tears constricted Maddie’s throat. She’d known she could trust her friend’s fierce brand of support. Flicking open the lid of the box, she revealed two dome-topped dark chocolates, crowned with perfect sprigs of green fondant holly and red fondant berries. “Thank you.” She couldn’t eat them at the moment because Deb’s words had left her feeling physically nauseous. But these truffles were evidence of her friend’s love for her. That’s what mattered.

“Maddie,” Britt said. “Don’t go all quavery on me. This isn’t the end for you and Leo. You haven’t done anything wrong. Deb is the one who’s in the wrong for reacting the way that she did.”

“It’s understandable, though. It was hard enough for us when Olivia died. But imagine what it was like for her, to lose a child.”

“Brutal,” Britt allowed. “But that doesn’t excuse Deb’s behavior this morning. She was rude.”

“She was upset.”

“She was rude.”

Maddie’s phone beeped to signal an incoming text. She glanced at it. I’m really sorry about Deb, Leo wrote. Maddie slanted the phone toward Britt so she could see, then typed, It’s okay.

She and I will talk it over later today, Leo replied. I hope you have a good Christmas.

You too.

“See,” Britt said. “Leo’s on it.”

Yes, and she loved the way that Leo had stood up to Deb this morning. He hadn’t been cowed the way she had. And yet . . . everything felt so subdued now. It was like she and Leo were two elementary school students who’d been having a great time together right up until they’d been caught and sent to the principal’s office.

“Don’t let this throw you off course,” Britt said. “This is an obstacle, that’s all. Any long relationship will have to overcome dozens of obstacles.”

“But we don’t really have a relationship yet. We haven’t gone on a single date.”

“Overcome this obstacle and go on your date. Then overcome another obstacle and another. Do whatever you have to do because Leo’s worth it.”

Maddie said nothing.

Britt gazed at her hard, as if she were a doctor trying to diagnose an illness. “This isn’t really about Deb, is it? Deb just forced you to confront the guilt you already feel for liking Leo.”

Maddie squeezed her knuckle. “It’s hard to explain. I just . . . I don’t want to do anything that might betray Olivia.”

Britt’s expression turned long-suffering. “Want to know what I think?”

“I’m afraid to say yes.”

“I think that you were comfortable as the third wheel back when Olivia was alive and you had a hopeless crush on Leo. Now that Olivia’s gone and your crush might not be so hopeless, I think that you’ve cast yourself as the bad friend, and you’re not so comfortable in that role. So”—she filled her lungs with air—“let me set the record straight. You weren’t a bad friend to Olivia, Maddie. You were a great friend to her. And Leo was a great husband to her.” She paused. “Do you think Olivia would have been against the prospect of Leo falling in love again? Of him remarrying?”

“Maybe! Maybe she would have preferred that he remain faithful to her until his death.”

“You’re a very loyal person, Maddie. Remember when we were in tenth grade and I threw up in history class? Everyone else shrieked and rushed to the other side of the room and then started whispering and giggling. Except you. You put your hand on my shoulder, and you scolded everyone for reacting the way they had instead of showing compassion to the sick person.” She laughed.

“I remember.” Maddie had been surprised at herself after that incident. She hadn’t realized she’d had it in her to reprimand a roomful of her classmates.

“In this case, though,” Britt said, “I think your loyalty to Olivia has turned into a runaway train. Just because Olivia died doesn’t mean you have to compensate by becoming hyper-loyal to her now. Leo’s only thirty-one years old. Let’s say he lives to the age of ninety-one.” Britt’s lips tipped down with skepticism. “Do you really think our kind, outgoing, bighearted friend would want the man she loved to go through life alone for the next sixty years?”

“I’m not sure.”

“I am sure. She wouldn’t. There’s no way she’d have wanted him to spend the rest of his life that way after being married to her for less than three years. And I happen to think that Olivia would have preferred for him to date one of her friends rather than a stranger.”

“What? No!”

“You knew her very well, Maddie. You treasure her memory.” She tossed out a hand for emphasis. “If Leo dates a woman who never met her, that woman won’t give a fig about Olivia. You and me and Hannah and Mia, we want to remember her. A stranger won’t.”

It was so quiet that she could hear the couple from down the hall talking as they made their way along the corridor to their apartment. The whir of the heater. The ticking of her decorative clock.

“Pray about it,” Britt said. “Listen to what God has to say in response. You’ll see that He agrees with me on this.”

“You always think God agrees with you.”

“This time, I’m doubly sure that He does.”