Chapter 12

Christmas day was everything Van remembered and more; louder, brighter, more festive and boisterous. There were more presents than Van had ever seen, more silliness and heartfelt gratitude. And even when Elizabeth, in Maddy’s absence, began singing “In the Bleak Midwinter,” it didn’t sound sad. It sounded like a promise.

At first Van tried to steel herself, not give in totally to this wonderful feeling. But she couldn’t resist. She knew it wouldn’t last, but it would always come back. And that was what counted.

When they finished the second pot of coffee and Mom began gathering up the wrapping paper for the recycling bin, Joe stood. “If you’ll excuse us, I have to take Van away for a minute.”

Van frowned at him.

“Nothing bad,” Joe said. “Just a little present I forgot about.”

From the tail of her eye, she saw Granddad wink.

“Don’t be late for turkey,” Joe Jr. said.

“Better change out of those shoes and put on your muck boots,” Granddad added.

She looked from one to the other. “Does this entail livestock of any kind?”

Joe grinned. “Possibly.”

She turned to the others. Mom Enthorpe looked clueless, but the two Joes were definitely looking conspiratorial.

Van stood. Pointed at Granddad. “I’m going, but remember, I know where you live.”

“Heh, heh, heh,” he replied. “When’s that turkey gonna be ready?”

Joe held out her coat and snow boots.

She took them, but before she could put them on, he trundled her out the front door and into the truck. “Now you can put on your boots.”

She pulled on the boots and sat up. “Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise.” He drove down the drive and turned onto the road, but not toward town.

“You know about me and surprises.”

“Yeah, that’s why it’s a surprise and why you have to cover your eyes.”

“What? Why?”

“Because it’s Christmas. Now cover your eyes, and put your head down so I know you’re not peeking.”

Van huffed out a sigh, but she covered her eyes with her hands.

After a couple of minutes, the truck turned off the road.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“Don’t look,” Joe replied.

They bumped along for another minute then Joe stopped the truck.

Van lifted her head.

“Don’t peek!”

“I’m not. Where are we?”

“Stay.”

She heard the door open and shut. She was so tempted to take one little look. The passenger door opened and Joe pulled her out of the truck and set her down. Her boots sank in the snow.

“Are you losing me in the woods? Do I get breadcrumbs?”

“Very funny. Now get serious.” He turned her around.

She had no idea where they were, but for a change she didn’t mind.

“Okay, open your eyes.”

She did, blinked against the glare off the snow. Looked further afield. “It’s Granddad’s house.”

“Ours, if we want it.”

“Ours?”

“Ours, with his compliments. It needs some work. If you don’t like it . . .”

“It’s beautiful.”

“It’s kind of big.”

“We can grow into it.” She took a breath, exhaled, watched the cloud her breath made in the cold air. “Fill it with kids of our hearts?”

“Only if you really want to.”

“I do. But let’s wait a year until we get these businesses off the ground.”

“Sounds like a plan. And since you just said, ‘I do,’ I have something to ask you.”

He reached into his pocket, brought out a small black box and knelt in the snow. “Vanessa Moran . . .”