Christmas Beach Reunion

Chapter 1

One

N orah Wells adored Christmas and everything about it, from the music to the lights to the cheesy movies and the trees decked out in shiny ornaments, both commercial and handmade.

And the yummy, decadent food!

Oh, the food! Pies, cookies, fruit and nut bread, candy—a feast for the senses. The season warmed her even when the weather was cold.

Although Christmas Beach, Louisiana, where she lived for the last twenty years, never offered a holiday bathed in white. Her daily stroll at dawn took her along the shore, and the crisp air nipped at her cheeks. Pondering her Christmas plans, she almost didn’t hear her phone buzz in her jacket pocket. It took three rings before she snapped out of her ocean-induced trance.

She took out her cell, peered at the screen, and saw the call came from her brother. “Nate, are you at the airport already?”

A brief pause on the other end.

Norah’s heart sank to her shoes. Uh-oh.

“Hey, Norah, listen about that… I’m not gonna make it out this year.”

“What?” She stopped in her tracks, the wind gusting goosebumps over her skin as she struggled to keep her emotions in check. “What do you mean? You were all packed yesterday.”

“I know, I know, but work has me galloping in circles. I’m sorry, sis, I just can’t this year.”

Norah tightened her grip on the phone, stared out at the waves, counted to ten and steadied her breathing. “First Nellie, and now you?”

“Trust me, I feel awful about canceling last minute,” Nate said, “but I promise to make it up to you. How about a family get-together in the spring after tax season? We can throw a late Christmas celebration or something.”

“Might as well just make it for my forty-fifth birthday in May. I was looking forward to us being together, but if you can help it, you can’t help it.” A twinge of pain, like a knife stab, in her spleen.

“I know, me too, but we’ll make it work somehow, and I can pop down in January once things blow over here.”

“Sure.” Sadness punched a hole in her heart. January was one of her busiest times of the year when the 1099 forms went out.

“Hey, it’s just one Christmas. You can still enjoy the season, right? It’s your favorite time of year, and perhaps you could volunteer or something,” Nate said.

“Volunteer, yes.” Norah forced levity into her voice. She didn’t want to make him feel guilty. “Yes, I’ll manage. You focus on work, and we’ll catch up soon.”

“Deal, love you, Norah.”

“Love you too,” she said and ended the call.

She stood there, phone in hand, staring at the rhythmic waves lapping at the shoreline. The reality of a solitary Christmas closed over her like cold midnight. It wasn’t just the holiday itself but the tradition, the joy of having her siblings close, laughing over old memories, and making new ones that she’d miss.

Nellie’s cancellation, while unexpected, didn’t come as a total surprise. Her sister had always been the adventurous one, itching to explore unknown places, but Nate was her constant, her ride-or-die, the sibling who never allowed work to intrude on their relationship.

Until now.

Norah gulped, pushing past the tightness in her throat.

“Well,” she said, slipping her phone back into her pocket. “Guess it’s just me and the beach this year.”

Nate usually stayed for at least a week when he visited. Like Norah and Nellie, he was single, never married, and childless. When they were all together, they laughed about their shared status, none having an explanation for how or why they reached their forties without managing a single marriage between them. They were happy. They were content. Pfft on what society might think of their lifelong singlehood.

At forty-four, Norah was the oldest, Nate in the middle, and Nellie the youngest at forty-one. Four years ago, they lost their parents to illness, one after the other, but they grew even closer over their loss. While Norah bore the brunt of caring for their elderly parents because she lived close, Nellie and Nate contributed the best they could, and she was grateful for the money they sent and the times they came to spell her.

After their losses, Christmas became their time to reconnect. Norah lived in Louisiana, Nate in Boston, and Nellie in Seattle. Norah hosted because she was in the center, and her airport was smaller with less travel stress. Plus, Louisiana’s December weather was a lot more hospitable, and she lived near the beach.

Moving back home to Christmas Beach from New Orleans was the best decision Norah had ever made. Although growing up, her folks hadn’t lived on the beach. They hadn’t even lived in town but rather in a community of ten-acre ranchettes several miles outside of Christmas Beach. Living so close to the water was a completely different experience for her.

She loved her cottage, adored her neighborhood, and she was giddy that she could open the bedroom window at night, breathe in the salt air, and listen to the lullaby of the waves. And when their folks were alive, it had been a short twenty-minute drive to check on them. She still missed that solid routine.

With a sigh, she walked on, trying to shake off her loneliness, but gloom clung to her like the damp sea spray. She loved her silent mornings on Christmas Beach, this sweet peace before the day began, but today, it felt too quiet, too empty.

The thought of decorating the house, baking cookies, and watching the same old Christmas movies seemed pointless now. What was Christmas without the people you loved to share it with?

She rounded a bend in the shoreline, and a loud bark pulled her from her rumination. A stout dog stood a few yards ahead, tail wagging, dragging a leash tangled with driftwood and beach grass. The dog barked again, a happy, relieved sound as if he’d just been waiting for her to appear.

“Well, hello there, fella,” Norah said. She wasn’t afraid of dogs—she had grown up around them, after all—and this one didn’t seem aggressive, just eager for attention. “Are you lost, buddy?”

The dog, a mix of golden retriever and Irish setter by the looks of him, dropped to his belly and wagged his tail even harder, stirring up the sand. He gave a soft whimper, his limpid brown eyes fixed on her.

Norah crouched and held out a hand. “It’s okay. Let’s see if we can find your owner.”

He crept closer, still on his belly, and she noticed crusted blood in a shallow diagonal slash that traveled the length of his snout.

“Aww, did you get a cut on your nose?”

Poor guy. Someone must miss him. She reached for the leash, untangled the seaweed and debris, then led him toward the beach access path. The dog trotted beside her, head up, and a sense of purpose returned to her day.

At her SUV, she opened the back door, and the dog jumped in, scattering sand everywhere. Norah grinned, even as she added “clean the car” to her growing to-do list. But first, she needed help. She inhaled all the way down to her belly button, took out her phone, and called the last person on earth she ever wanted to contact.

Dr. Matthew Gray, DVM.

Dr. Matthew Gray was elbow-deep in bulldog drool when his receptionist knocked on the exam room door.

Bella, Mrs. Jenkins’ elder dog, decided today was a terrific day to slobber all over his new Christmas sweater. He had worn it because his favorite sweater was in the laundry bag, and now he remembered why he stuck to plain shirts at work.

“Yeah?” He wiped his hands on a shop towel.

Vanessa poked her head in. “Hey, Dr. Gray, got a call about a stray. A lady found it wandering the beach and wants to bring the dog in this afternoon. She says the dog’s got a cut on its nose.”

Still focused on Bella, Matt nodded. The old girl was eyeing him like she knew he was about to put her on a diet. “Okay, sure. Did you get the woman’s name?”

“Norah Wells.”

Matt’s hand froze on Bella’s back. For a second, he thought he misheard. Had all those years of dogs barking in his ears taken their toll? “Sorry, what was that name again?”

“Norah Wells,” Vanessa said. “You okay, Dr. Gray? You’re suddenly pale. Did you see a ghost?”

Not quite a ghost, but close.

“Fine.” He cleared his throat. “Just, uh, book her in for this afternoon, will you?”

Vanessa nodded and left, but not before giving him another concerned glance.

Great, now his receptionist thought he was losing it. Add that to the list of things going wrong today.

Matt turned back to Bella, who stared at him as if to say, “You’re not fooling anyone, buster.”

“Oh, don’t you start.” He scratched Bella behind her ears.

Norah Wells. A blast from his misspent past.

He tried to focus on finishing Bella’s exam, but his mind kept wandering to the last time he’d seen Norah.

C’mon, Gray, pay attention. You’re on the clock.

“All right, Bella, you’re all set,” Matt said, helping the old bulldog down from the table. Bella landed with a soft thump and waddled over to her owner, Mrs. Jenkins, waiting by the door.

“How’s my girl?” Mrs. Jenkins asked, her face lighting up as Bella snuffled around her feet.

“She’s doing great.” Matt plastered on his best professional smile. “But we really need to talk about that diet plan again, Mrs. Jenkins. Bella’s carrying more weight than she should.”

Mrs. Jenkins waved a hand. “Oh, Dr. Gray, it’s the holidays! Everyone puts on a few pounds this time of year. Besides, she loves her treats.”

Matt sighed. Same argument every year. “I know, but?—”

“We’ll start the diet in January,” Mrs. Jenkins promised, heading for the door with Bella. “Merry Christmas, Doc!”

And they disappeared, leaving Matt alone with his thoughts. Dangerous territory there.

He headed for his office, almost tripping over the Christmas tree in the waiting room. The ornaments jingled as if laughing at his clumsiness. He regained his balance, nodding at the startled couple sitting with their kitten. Yay, nothing like making a fool of himself in front of pet parents.

Back in his office, Matt slumped in his chair, pulled out his wallet, and dug through the photographs until he found what he was looking for—a picture of him and Norah, faded with age. They looked so young, so much in love, arms thrown around each other, mugging for the camera, ocean wind whipping their hair back off their faces.

Ha! Get a load of him now. Gray hair, reading glasses perched on his nose, a little heavier than he used to be. Not the guy Norah remembered.

What would he say to her? “Hey, how’s life been treating you for the past two decades? Me? Oh, you know, just taking care of dogs, cats, and the occasional parrot. Living the dream.”

Matt sighed and ran a hand through his hair. This afternoon would be interesting. He just hoped he wouldn’t look stupid, but knowing his luck—and judging by the bulldog drool still on his sweater—that was asking too much.

He tried to focus on paperwork, but the words swam before his eyes. His mind kept drifting back to Norah. Had she changed much? Did she still scrunch up her nose when she laughed? Did she still love the holidays as much as she used to?

Back then, Norah went all out for Christmas. She dragged Matt to every event in town, from the tree lighting ceremony to the Christmas pageant at the local elementary school. “It’s not about the quality, Matt,” she’d say, her eyes alight. “It’s about the spirit of it all.”

Matt glanced out his window. The street lay decked out in its holiday finest, twinkling lights strung between the lampposts and wreaths on every door. The annual Christmas festival would start soon. He wondered if Norah would go. If she’d persuade whatever lucky guy she was with now to see the world’s most giant beach snow globe or the impressive sand sculpture nativity scene.

A knock at his door jolted him.

“Come in,” he called, shuffling some papers to appear busy.

It was Vanessa again. “Dr. Gray, your next appointment is waiting. The Johnsons’ new kitten.”

“Right, yes, of course.” Matt stood up a bit too fast, and his knee twinged. When had he gotten so old?

He followed Vanessa out and caught sight of himself in the mirror hanging in the corridor. His Christmas sweater was a lost cause, and his hair was sticking up in all directions from the number of times he’d raked his fingers through it while thinking about Norah. Hey, at least he still had a full head of hair—something to be thankful for.

What would she think of him now? Would she be disappointed? Would she look at him and see the life she’d left behind?

Or maybe… just maybe… would she remember the good times? The lazy summer days on the beach, the cozy winter nights by the fire? Would she recall why she fell for him in the first place?

Matt shook his head. No use getting his hopes up. Even if she still went by her maiden name, who said she was single?

Still, he plastered on a smile and prepared to coo over the Johnsons’ new kitten. Matt couldn’t help but feel a tiny spark of… something. Excitement? Anticipation? Terror? A mix of all three?

The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur of wagging tails, concerned pet owners, and the occasional yowling cat. Matt went through the motions, his mind only half on his work, the rest of him busy conjuring up scenarios of how his reunion with Norah might go.

Would she recognize him right away? Would there be an awkward moment? Would she smile in that way he’d never entirely forgotten, or would her eyes slide past him, seeing nothing but a small-town vet who’d never amounted to much?

By the time Norah’s appointment rolled around, Matt was a bundle of nerves. He paced the narrow room and kept jamming his hand through his hair. What was he so worked up about? It was just Norah, the one who got away. No big deal.

Yeah, who was he kidding?

He’d missed her like the dickens.