Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
T he rest of Christmas Day passed quietly, but not without some tension. After Hannah had agreed to sit down with Lisa, the two of them had spoken for over an hour while Maddie and Schatzi gave them space.
From the kitchen, Maddie could hear bits and pieces of the conversation: Lisa offering support; Hannah hesitantly sharing details about the pregnancy; once, there was some laughter, but voices had been raised too.
Maddie did her best to stay out of earshot. She knew how delicate the situation was, and that Hannah needed to feel in control of the conversation. Maddie did not want to do anything to jeopardize that.
When both girls finally emerged from the living room, they looked exhausted but lighter, as if a weight had been lifted. Lisa left soon after, with a promise to return and help in any way she could. The visit had been unexpected, and though it had shaken Hannah, Maddie could see that Lisa’s kindness had begun to break through the layers of fear and uncertainty Hannah had been carrying. It was a start.
Maybe Lisa had even helped reinforce the feeling of support Hannah had. Knowing she had someone else in her corner had to bring Hannah some peace, didn’t it?
Maddie had called Becca, and they’d had a nice chat. When she’d finished, she’d encouraged Hannah to call her dad, who was working. Maddie knew he had to be missing his daughter on Christmas Day, regardless of everything that was going on.
Thankfully, Hannah had obliged Maddie and seemed happier for it.
Now, as the evening drew to a close and the glow of the Christmas tree lights reflected softly in the window, Maddie sat with Schatzi in the living room, both of them sipping tea. The fire crackled, its warmth wrapping around them like a blanket, and Ernie lay sprawled on the rug, his eyes half-closed.
“Hard day for that girl,” Schatzi said quietly, her voice cutting through the comfortable silence. She glanced toward the kitchen, where Hannah was cleaning up after dinner, her contribution to the meal. “But I still say she’s stronger than she realizes.”
“I agree.” As much as Maddie wished things were different for all of them, there just wasn’t a way to make that wish come true. “She’s been through so much already and survived it. Even so, it’s not fair. She’s too young to deal with all of this.”
Schatzi leaned back in her chair, cradling her tea in her lap. “Life isn’t fair, sweetheart. You know that as well as anyone. Maybe more so. But it’s what we do with the unfairness that matters.” The lines around her eyes crinkled, and she gave Maddie a knowing look. “You’re doing good by her, you know. Giving her a safe place, helping her find her way, being a go-between for her and her dad. You’ve become her Christmas miracle, whether she realizes it or not.”
Maddie smiled faintly, though there was still a tightness in her chest. “I just want to protect her. She’s so young. She shouldn’t have to deal with all this on her own.”
Schatzi set her tea down on the table beside her and gave Maddie a pointed look. “That’s why you’re here. And now she’s got Lisa, too. And me, and Sam, and her dad. You know she’s not alone, Maddie. And neither are you.”
Maddie blinked, the unexpected tenderness in Schatzi’s voice catching her off guard. “Me?” When had the conversation become about her?
Schatzi’s eyes never wavered. “You’ve spent so much time worrying about everyone else—about Hannah, about me, about Becca—that I think you’ve forgotten to take care of yourself.”
Maddie opened her mouth to respond but found herself at a loss for words. She hadn’t thought about herself in that way for a long time. Ever since Jack had passed, her world had revolved around surviving each day, one moment at a time. Being here, she’d thrown herself into taking care of others because it was easier than facing her own grief.
It made her feel like she was doing something worthwhile instead of just grieving the loss of her husband. All that did was carve out a bigger hollow inside her. Helping others, at least temporarily, seemed to fill that hollow up.
Schatzi reached across the space and took Maddie’s hand in hers, her grip gentle but firm. “It’s okay to lean on people, Maddie. You don’t have to carry it all by yourself.”
Maddie’s throat tightened, and she looked away, blinking back the sudden tears that had welled up in her eyes. She had spent so long trying to be strong, to hold it all together, but Schatzi’s words had pierced through the walls she had built around her heart.
“I know. I do,” Maddie whispered, her voice trembling. “It’s just...it’s hard.”
Schatzi smiled, her eyes warm. “I know it is. But you’re not alone, sweetheart. You’ve got me, you’ve got Sam...and you’ve got a whole town full of people who care about you. Let them in.”
The mention of Sam brought a flutter to Maddie’s chest, and she realized how much his steady presence had come to mean to her. He had been there every step of the way, always offering support without asking for anything in return. And though she hadn’t admitted it to herself before, Maddie knew that her feelings for him were growing stronger.
That was a hard thing to come to terms with. No man other than Jack had ever had space in her heart. Even thinking about another man in the terms of romantic possibility sent a small wave of guilt through her.
Even so, she knew Jack would want her to be happy. Almost as if he’d sensed something was about to happen to him, he’d said as much right before his heart attack, telling her that he wanted her to remarry if her heart led her to do so. She hadn’t been able to bear that conversation and so she’d shut it down, but not before he’d had his say.
She shook her head, more to herself than to Schatzi. It was a lot to think about. Especially on Christmas Day, when memories of her life with Jack were foremost in her mind.
Just then, the sound of soft footsteps caught their attention, and Maddie looked up to see Hannah standing in the doorway. “All done. Kitchen is clean.” She offered a small smile as she walked over to the couch and sat down next to Maddie.
“Thank you for doing that,” Maddie said softly, shifting to make room for her. “That was really nice of you.”
“Just pulling my weight,” Hannah replied, pulling her knees up to her chest. She glanced at Schatzi, then back at Maddie. “I’m sorry about earlier...with Lisa. I know I kind of freaked out.”
Maddie shook her head. “You don’t have to apologize, Hannah. It was a lot to take in. How are you feeling?”
Hannah sighed, resting her chin on her knees. “I don’t know. I’m relieved, I guess. Lisa was really nice. She didn’t push me or anything. I can tell she’s excited about the baby. More than I am, I think. At least so far. But mostly she just offered to help. Even with bills and stuff. I didn’t expect that.”
Schatzi nodded thoughtfully. “That’s the thing about family. Sometimes they surprise you.”
Hannah smiled faintly, her eyes gleaming with the reflection of the fire. “Yeah. I guess so.”
The three of them sat in silence, listening to the soft crackling of the flames. Ernie shifted, rolling over to show his furry belly and making them all smile. Maddie could see that Hannah was still processing everything that had happened, but she was glad the girl had taken another step toward opening up. It was a small victory, but it mattered.
After a while, Hannah broke the silence, her voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know what to do next, though. I still haven’t figured anything out, really.”
Maddie shifted closer to her, resting a hand on Hannah’s arm. “You don’t have to figure it all out right now. One step at a time, okay? You have time to decide what’s best for you and the baby.”
Hannah nodded slowly, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “The thing is, I can’t get past feeling like I’ve messed everything up. I know this isn’t what my mom wanted for me. Definitely not my dad, either. If I’m being honest, it’s not what I wanted.”
Schatzi leaned forward, her voice gentle but firm. “You haven’t messed anything up, Hannah. Life doesn’t always go according to plan, but that doesn’t mean it’s ruined. It just means you’ve got to take a different path. And that’s okay.”
Hannah sniffled, wiping at her eyes. “I wish my mom were here. She’d know what to do.”
Maddie’s heart squeezed at the pain in Hannah’s voice. She knew that feeling all too well. The longing for someone who wasn’t there, the ache of loss that never truly went away. She wrapped an arm around Hannah’s shoulders, pulling her close.
“I know,” Maddie whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “But we’re here for you, and we’ll figure this out together. You’re not alone. You have to remember that.”
Hannah rested her head on Maddie’s shoulder, her body relaxing into the comfort of the embrace. For a long time, they sat there in silence, the warmth of the fire wrapping around them like a protective cocoon.
Maddie felt a deep sense of connection in that moment—a bond that went beyond words. She had been so focused on helping Hannah, on taking care of Schatzi, that she hadn’t realized how much she needed this. The quiet, the companionship, the shared vulnerability. It wasn’t just about helping others—it was about allowing herself to be helped, too.
Even if that was hard to do, she understood how necessary it was.
Later that night, after Hannah and Schatzi had both gone up to bed and the house had settled into its quiet rhythm, Maddie bundled up and went out onto the porch, sitting in one of the rocking chairs and looking out at the moonlit snow. The world was still and silent, the mountains black against the navy-blue sky, the stars twinkling. It was a peaceful kind of quiet, the kind that didn’t feel lonely.
She heard footsteps coming up the path and turned to see Sam and Fargo approaching, the two of them outlined by the light from inside the house. Fargo bounded up onto the porch, nuzzling his face into Maddie’s hands, asking for pets.
“Hi, Fargo.” Maddie obliged him before looking at Sam. “What are you doing out?”
He shrugged. “Fargo needed to go out. This seemed like as good a direction as any to go in.”
She nodded, thinking he’d come this way on purpose, regardless of his explanation.
“I was going to ask if you minded that we joined you, but Fargo’s lack of manners seems to have beaten me to it,” Sam said, his voice low and gentle.
Maddie smiled and tipped her head toward the empty seat. “I’d love the company.”
Sam took the other rocking chair, sitting beside her as they both gazed out at the snow-covered landscape. For a while, neither of them spoke, content to share the quiet moment.
“I talked to Hannah’s dad today. You did good, getting her to call him. Bill needed that,” Sam said after a while, his tone subdued. “You’re really something with her. She trusts you.”
Maddie glanced at him, her soul pleased by the compliment. “I hope she does. I only have her best interests at heart. And I’m really just trying to give her what she needs.”
Sam nodded, his gaze still on the moonlit snow. “You’re doing more than that, Maddie. You’re giving her a place she can feel at home.”
Maddie felt a lump form in her throat, and she looked down, her hands nervously occupied with Fargo’s fur. She wasn’t used to praise, but it was especially sweet coming from someone like Sam, who always seemed to know the right thing to say.
“I couldn’t have done it without you,” Maddie admitted, her voice barely audible. “You’ve been there every step of the way.”
Sam turned to face her, his eyes full of an emotion she couldn’t quite name. “I’m always here, Maddie. In case you didn’t know that.”
Maddie swallowed, her heart racing as she met his gaze. There was something unspoken between them, something that had been growing for weeks but had remained just beneath the surface. And now, sitting there in the luminous glow of the stars, Maddie felt the weight of it pressing down on her.
“Sam,” she began, her voice trembling slightly. “Sometimes, I think I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
He smiled, a gentle, understanding smile that sent warmth flooding through her. “You don’t have to know. I’m always going to be here. You and Schatzi are not alone. There’s no reason for you to be.”
Maddie let herself believe it, maybe because she needed to. It was time to let go.
And as they sat there, side by side, looking out at the moonlit mountains, it sank into Maddie she didn’t have to carry the weight of the world on her own anymore. There was no need. She could let so much of it go.
Because she had people to share it with. Family. Friends. And they were enough.
In fact, they were more than enough.