Chapter Twenty-Eight
Jace
The clock strikes twelve.
“Santa!” Emmy’s happy yell stirs me from sleep, and I open my eyes on the couch to find my daughter flinging herself on the ground next to the still-lit Christmas tree in the corner.
Last night, I returned so late that I spent almost all night wrapping gifts.
Then I fell asleep with tape stuck to my face and wrapping paper on my pants in my sister’s living room.
Thankfully, Emmy doesn’t even notice as I stuff the incriminating evidence under the couch and sit up.
Angie appears in front of me and laughs, her hand waving near my forehead.
I reach up and feel another sting of adhesive as I pull it from my skin.
Emmy is busy assessing the gifts under the tree.
The half-drunk glass of milk and cookie crumbs from Santa’s cookies that we left out before bed last night are still evident around my mouth.
I swipe a hand across my face and sigh with gratitude that I remembered to break off the carrots too, so Emmy would know that Rudolph also enjoyed visiting her on Christmas Eve.
“Good job, Jay,” Angie whispers as she settles beside me and leans her head on my shoulder. I hear stirring in the kitchen, and the scent of coffee brewing tells me that Edgar is already preparing the fuel we need to stay awake this morning.
“Daddy! Santa came, and it’s just the best, isn’t it? So many presents! And look, he even left me tape!” Emmy’s hands are tucked under her chin, and she’s twirling around the tree.
I feel Angie’s suppressed laughter against my arm, and I hold back my own laugh.
“It’s the best.” My brother walks in with a full mug of coffee and hands it to me. I give him a grateful nod. “I texted Mom and Dad that you’re all up. They’ll be here in ten minutes.”
Our parents are staying at Ivy’s parents’ inn in Birch Borough and have spent the last couple of nights with them, playing cards and eating charcuterie boards.
To our shock, it turns out that Mom and Dad went to high school in the area at the same time as Ivy’s parents and already knew them.
They were on rival teams, but it seems they’ve created their own team as simply our parents now.
They’re having the time of their lives, and I’m loving that we’re all in one place for a while.
“Sounds good,” Angie says. “Jay, there’s some of the quiche in the fridge if you need some protein to start off your day.”
My stomach rumbles, and I rise, walking toward the kitchen.
A knock on the door halts my steps. I change directions and head to the door.
Opening it wide, the instant blast of cold wakes me up and blows my curls around.
It’s a sea of winter white everywhere I look, but there’s no one there at the door.
Instead, I look around and find a tiny, wrapped box on the steps with my name on it.
“Who is it?” Angie asks. Something in her tone sounds far less surprised than I would have expected.
“Maybe it’s an extra present from Santa,” Edgar adds.
I cast a glance over my shoulder in their direction.
Something is definitely up with these two.
I know because the two of them never could keep secrets very well.
Keeping them in my line of vision, I unwrap the diminutive box.
Inside, I find a keychain with a tiny boxing glove hanging from it.
Holding it up, I notice a scrap of paper still inside the box.
You may lasso the moon, but I’ll bring the stars. Meet me at In the Ring at twelve, the note reads. A smile breaks out on my face: Ivy. I already expected to see her tonight, but this just gave me an extra reason to enjoy the day.
When I’m back on the couch a few minutes later, my mouth full of quiche and my sister sitting beside me, I hear her sniff.
“You two are so cute,” Angie says, and I look over to see her smiling.
“Oh, goodness, don’t start,” Edgar laughs.
“Stop!” she yells at him, wiping her eyes and laughing at herself. “I know I look ridiculous, but he’s happy. Did you think he’d ever really be happy again?”
Edgar’s smile drops as he looks between Angie and me, and I know we’re all thinking of Mina and the heartache we’ve collectively experienced together since.
“I love you, bro.” Edgar’s eyes mist over as he looks at me.
“I’m just happy you have someone like Ivy now.
She’s good for you, and she’s good for Emmy. ”
I swallow and reach for the half-empty mug on the coffee table. “She’s always been good for me.”
“True. But you have to admit that this is a Christmas miracle if ever I’ve seen one.”
Seeing my sister and brother being this emotional about the transition my life is going through makes it all the more real.
As we reflect silently with a knowing look at each other, a knock sounds at the door.
Emmy runs to answer it. She struggles with the lock for a moment, but once it’s open, she squeals and jumps into my dad’s waiting arms.
“Merry Christmas, everyone!” my mom practically sings as she walks in and systematically wraps each of us in a warm hug one by one.
“And you . . .” She pauses when she gets to me, her hands framing my face and her eyes bright.
“I’m so proud of you. I’m proud of all my kids, but I’ve seen you work so hard to give Emmy such a wonderful life.
You’ve got heart, and you’ve got character.
And it’s so good to see you looking more like the boy I raised this Christmas.
” She hugs me again, and I hold my breath to prevent my emotions from pouring out.
“Love you, Mom,” I murmur into her greying hair, trying to absorb her gentle words as she pats my head like she did when I was a kid.
“Oh, and by the way,” she announces, pulling away from me suddenly. “You’re not moving to Florida, even after New Year’s.”
The shock silences me. I seem to be the only one who has heard her instructions. Angie and Edgar have found their way to the tree. They are coaching Emmy—my daughter sitting on Dad’s lap on the floor—instructing her on which present she should open first.
“What do you mean?” I lean in, turning my ear toward her to make sure I heard correctly.
“You know what I said,” Mom replies. “You need to be here. Your siblings need you. This town needs you. Emmy loves it here. And Ivy is here. As much as I would love to have you closer, nothing is worth letting all that goodness go.” She pats my hand and turns toward the living room, stopping to look up at me with a mischievous expression.
“Besides, you never know; we’re having such a good time here that we might have to come back more frequently—or just come back. ”
I give her a grateful smile, realizing that all I feel is relief.
I was dreading having to tell my parents that I’ve changed my mind about moving.
Now, I don’t have to. It’s another Christmas miracle.
Every day, I feel more like the kid who once believed in miracles.
“Thanks, Mom,” I say sincerely, feeling the weight of the words.
“Do you love her, Jay?”
“I do.” There’s no hesitation. No mulling it over. It’s as true as anything I’ve ever known.
“Great,” Mom replies. “Then know that, if she’s the one for you, even when you think you’re lost, you’ll be found.”
I wrap her in another hug, and we spend the rest of the morning drinking coffee, eating the special secret recipe Christmas pie Angie baked for us and doesn’t sell at her shop, laughing, and unwrapping presents.
For a few minutes, I sneak away to shower and get ready to meet Ivy.
When it’s time for me to leave, Emmy is asleep on the couch next to my dad, with Elf playing in the background.
“We’ve got her,” Mom reassures me with a steaming mug of tea in her hand. “Now, go get your girl.” With a wink, she turns back to her latest needlepoint project that travels with her everywhere.
I’ve stepped through the door and onto the street when I see Gladys walking briskly toward the middle of town.
“Oh, you fine specimen!” she calls. “Merry Christmas!”
I’m mortified and weirdly flattered. “Thanks, Gladys. Merry Christmas to you!”
She waves and then disappears . . . I don’t even know where.
There aren’t many people out and about, considering the holiday, but I wave to the people I see on the street, some I recognize and some unfamiliar.
But if they live here, I’ll learn who they are.
I’m determined to make this the place where I can grow and thrive.
After the New Year, I’ll talk to a few businesses about the custom furniture I can make.
I have five clients wanting to sign on for private training sessions at the boxing studio.
And Emmy can continue in her class at school with the teacher she enjoys.
When I approach In the Ring, I pause, noticing that the strands of Christmas lights are turned on inside. As I move toward the door, it flings open, and I watch Grey pop out.
“Oh, hello!” She draws her coat tighter around herself. “Merry Christmas!”
I step back to give her more space, surprised to see Ivy’s best friend at the studio. “Merry Christmas, Grey. Were you boxing?” I know she wasn’t, but it is an odd sight to see her leaving the place.
Grey laughs. “Not today. But Lily told me I should try it sometime. She said something about pretending that the heavy bags were the villains in my favorite books to get in a great workout.”
I chuckle. “That could work.”