47

“And that’s how the light came into the world,” Eloise said, squatting to look directly into Emma’s eyes. “With the help of a few angels and a lot of love from Heaven.”

Darcy rubbed her wet cheek against the soft cotton of her flannel shirt. “Well, done, everyone. I think we are nearly there. Eloise, one note. On that last line, try saying everything to Emma except ‘love from Heaven.’ When you say that, why not shift your gaze up towards the ceiling?”

Eloise nodded and ran through the line again, and the simple change flashed shivers under Darcy’s skin.

“Perfect. That’s a wrap. We’ll see you on Tuesday for the final dress rehearsal. Don’t forget to have your parents check out the cookie sale.” The thunder of small footsteps mixed with varying versions of good-byes echoed through the sanctuary.

Eloise zipped up her coat and reached for her knit cap laying on the front pew. “Can I help you with anything?”

Darcy shook her head.

“OK, then, I’ll run down stairs to snag a box of cookies before everything is sold out. Last year the cookie sale only lasted an hour.” Eloise waved before disappearing down the back stairwell.

Darcy was grateful for Eloise’s immense patience. Her calm presence had helped more than any number of adult supervisors could have in corralling the young stars of the show. Rolling the white batting into a tight bundle, Darcy released a soft sigh. They were doing it. The play would be a success. Each of the pageant participants knew their lines and the non-speaking adults sang the Christmas carols in beautiful harmonies. Who would have thought a relatively small church in a smaller town would have so much talent pushing at its edges?

Tucking the batting into the choir loft, the sounds of the cookie sale hummed through the sanctuary. She should go down to see if Ben needed any help. Of course, he likely had the lovely Harper Jessup at his right hand and a flock of LAS members waiting to do his bidding. But, regardless of the multiple hands, Darcy was trying to live in the renewed twinning spirit. Helping Ben bag and tag some cookies was a definite sister-do.

The buzz of voices grew to ten times the volume as she skipped down the last step into the long corridor leading to the fellowship hall and temporary cookie central. Propped open and beckoning patrons, the doors were draped in garland adorned with shiny red, silver, and gold ornaments and twinkling lights set to an unheard rhythm. Walking through the ornate doorway, the volume of the crowd drowned the tinkle of classic Christmas carols playing. The cacophony merely amplified the feeling of stepping into a wonderland of treats and Christmas spirit.

Every wall, table, and cookie booth oozed Christmas. Red and white striped ribbon streamed ceiling to floor in each corner, securing the gossamer silver bunting looped across the fifteen-foot ceiling. Dozens of tables held multi-tier platters of cookies, each individually wrapped, and on display, ready to delight one of the many buyers mingling through the elegant maze. Even Aunt Lulu’s notorious star sparkled in the round, two story high window.

Scanning the room, Darcy’s gaze caught her tall brother filling an empty tray with peppermint brownies. She snorted at the sight of him. “Oh, Ben, what did Aunt Lulu do to you?”

Weaving through the shoppers, her progress was slowed with casual hellos to various church members and town residents. In less than two weeks, Darcy knew more people in Gibson’s Run than she knew in the apartment building she had lived in for five years. How had that happened?

“Darc!” Ben waved to her.

She nodded but focused on Bitsy Grey, an original LAS member who regaled her with a story about her granddaughter Lizzie’s one-man interpretation of the Christmas pageant the previous evening. “Lizzie is one-of-a-kind,” Darcy said. “May I catch up with you later? I wanted to check in with my brother. With both of us out of the house, I want to be sure Aunt Lulu is being watched.”

“Oh, that gal must be a handful. You let me know if you want me or one of the other LAS ladies to come sit with her. Give you and your brother a break.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Grey. I really appreciate it.”

“Nothing to thank. It’s what we do.”

A subtle warmth spread through Darcy’s chest. It’s what we do.

Closing the few steps to Ben, she couldn’t help her chuckle. “Who convinced you this was a good fashion choice?”

Ben glanced down at the Santa and reindeer three-dimensional sweater complete with a blinking red nose, and shrugged. “It was Uncle Frank’s. Aunt Lulu recommended it. I didn’t want to disappoint her since she was missing the sale and was already grumbling about her physical therapy session this morning. Isabel said the sweater was full of Christmas spirit.”

“Well, it’s definitely full of something.” Uncle Frank’s quirky sense of style matched his sense of humor. The sweater was the epitome of how her uncle lived his life: out loud and full of joy. Part of Darcy envied the simple delight Uncle Frank had found in the everyday messiness of life. Checklists and clean lines marked every aspect of Darcy’s existence. One small deviation or turn and she tended to spin. And thus, with the loss of her clearly defined path, Darcy overreacted to Lulu’s accident and signed her and Ben up for twenty-four/seven healthcare. And the Christmas extravaganza known as Gibson’s Run. Despite the chaos and added responsibility, Darcy couldn’t remember a moment in the last five years when she was more content.

She lifted a peppermint brownie and breathed in the rich and fragrant aroma. “How are these selling?”

“What you see is all we have left.” Ben pointed to the dozen hand wrapped brownies stretched across near empty serving trays. “When the cookie sale opened, there was a rush for the brownies. Swoon pies were a close second.”

“If they only knew how easily they could make the brownies. Family secret.”

Ben winked. “Family secret. Thankfully, Harper helped me box while I wrote up the order cards for the LAS members’ cookie check-out protocol.”

“There’s a protocol?”

“These ladies think of everything. There are preprinted cards and each stand adds the number of their specific cookie to the list. Mrs. Jenkins told me they started the cards so they could ‘weed out the undesirable cookies.’ Apparently, data doesn’t lie.”

“No, it doesn’t,” said a voice Darcy would know in the darkest corner of the earth for the next fifty years.

“Elaine!” Darcy dropped the brownie and wrapped Elaine Fitzpatrick in a hug.

“Oof!” Elaine patted Darcy on the back and gently extricated herself from the tight embrace. “I was wondering if I’d run into you. Neil said you were staying in town to take care of your aunt. How is she?”

“She’s doing much better. We brought her home earlier this week.”

“We?”

“My brother, Bennett, and me.”

Elaine extended her hand to Ben. “So, you’re the mysterious brother?”

“Guilty.”

“Lovely to finally meet you.” Elaine shifted her gaze to Darcy with a single lift of her eyebrow. “It’s so nice to see you together.”

Heat flushed Darcy’s cheeks. The stories she had unloaded on Elaine over the last few years had not been favorable or fair to Ben. “Despite the unfortunate circumstances, it’s been great spending the holiday season with my little brother. Not that we have had much relaxation time trying to fill in for Aunt Lulu and all her many fingerprints on the Christmas Festival. But never mind all that…why are you in Gibson’s Run? I didn’t even know you knew this town existed.”

“Of course. My family has been coming to the festival for years. It was a tradition we started with my grandparents. My parents would have a few free hours to shop and wrap presents and my sister and I got to spend the afternoon in a wonderland. Now, Harry and I bring the girls.” Elaine lifted her gaze across the hall to her husband and two preteen daughters. They were inspecting the wide array of hand painted cutout cookies on Mrs. Jessup’s stand where Harper now helped her mother bag the delicate creations.

“I can’t remember the last time I saw the girls. They’re so big.”

“Time has a tendency to allow for growth. Would you like to be reintroduced?”

Ben patted her on the shoulder. “Go and get reacquainted. Enjoy some time with your friend. It was nice meeting you, Elaine.”

“Likewise. Merry Christmas.”

Elaine linked her arm through Darcy’s and wove them through the cookie buyers. “That’s Bennett? Doesn’t seem so evil twin to me.”

“I may have painted my brother in a bad light.”

“You think?”

“I was mad. I can hold a bit of a grudge.”

Elaine snorted. “That’s like calling the Grand Canyon a crack in the road, Dr. Langston.”

“Ugh! Please don’t call me doctor. I’m nothing more than a home healthcare worker volunteering as a director of a children’s Christmas pageant. How quickly the scholar can fall.”

Stopping short of her family, Elaine stepped in front of Darcy. “That’s kind of why I was hoping to see you. When you wouldn’t return my calls, I reached out to Neil to find out where you were.”

“I’m so embarrassed. I’m having a hard time wrapping my head around the fact my research career is over. One phone call and five years of effort, not to mention hundreds of thousands of dollars in education, are… poof!”

“Darcy, don’t be so hard on yourself. You know research often takes decades, lifetimes, to make any advancements. Your efforts weren’t wasted.”

“Thanks, but well wishes can’t restore my career or my research.”

“What if they can?”

Darcy stopped, dropping Elaine’s arm. “What’re you talking about?”

“My funding was expanded. The department has a position for a new associate professor which includes a pretty substantial research component. You wouldn’t be working on autoimmune. It would be focused on some specific mutations of a virus, but if all goes well, the research grant has the distinct possibility to be expanded to see if anti-virals can treat specific autoimmune diseases. When the position was added you were the only person I wanted for the job.”

“I don’t want your pity.”

“It’s not pity. I called Neil because you wouldn’t return my calls. I was stunned when he told me your funding was cut. I thought I would have to do some of my best sweet talking to woo you away.”

“I am so confused.”

“Dr. Darcy Langston, I am offering you a job.”

“A job?”

Elaine nodded. “Specifically, a job as an associate professor and lead researcher. Ongoing privileges at the university. Expanded benefits. You’ll lead your own team of four researchers. No more lone-wolf lab rat. You’ll have to teach, which I know isn’t your first love, but I think you’ll come to love it as much as I do.”

When Darcy was finishing her MD-PhD program, Elaine had been a new associate professor teaching a course on neurobiology. Darcy’s fascination with the subject coupled with Elaine’s enthusiasm for her first real teaching spot bonded the two. Was Elaine really offering Darcy the lifeline she so desperately needed?

“Darc, I know this is sudden and not exactly a professional setting for an offer, but when I saw you, I figured it was God or fate or some weird Christmas gift. I couldn’t wait. Don’t feel you have to respond right now. Take your time.”

Darcy nodded.

“But I need to know by Christmas. The position starts the second Monday in January, a week before the start of the semester. The dean is going on a two-week vacation starting the day after Christmas through the New Year, and he wants final details before his trip.”

“Christmas is in less than a week. I have my aunt to think about.” And Finn. Did she have to think about Finn?

“I know. And, we can make accommodations until your aunt is on the mend. I had almost given up hope of getting you on the team when you wouldn’t return my calls. I already started interviewing a few other candidates. They’re all talented and smart researchers, but they aren’t you.”

“Some people would say not being me is a good thing.”

“Those people don’t know Darcy Langston, at least not the real Darcy Langston.”

The real Darcy Langston…who was she?

Elaine continued sharing details about the opportunity, but her words muted against the swirl of Darcy’s thoughts.

Who was the real Darcy Langston?

She glanced from Elaine and caught sight of the wide smiling Finn chatting with Sissy Jenkins. Her heart twisted and melted in an instant at his scruffy days’ growth of beard and the soft kindness shining through his eyes. As if he could feel her stare, Finn twisted and his gaze locked with hers. Light exploded with a burst burning under her skin as his lips softened with a tender smile.

I love you.

The thought was so loud she ripped her focus from Finn. Had she spoken the words aloud? Glancing from table to table and back to Elaine there were no shocked looks. All was as it should be. Patrons were sifting through cookies and Elaine chattered about the position.

“I can’t believe you were here today. Who knew a Christmas Cookie Sale could change your life?”

Who knew?