Chapter 32
The dining room glowed with flickering candles and magical Christmas décor. The table was full of laughter and guests passing sides to one another. The scent of Christmas ham and spiced cider hung in the air.
Mr. Johnson, a spry seventy-year-old retired military man, chuckled as he told stories of Christmases spent overseas. Mrs. Wilson, thirty and bubbly, laughed along, adding that her own father’s military career had moved their family from town to town.
Rebecca had also joined them for Christmas dinner. She told a story about her childhood Christmas mishaps, making everyone laugh. Oliver had also joined them for dinner, bringing his famous potato casserole that was a hit.
Kacey had wanted to be there, but her in-laws were in town for Christmas, and she held a small gathering for them.
Hannah and Carolina had dropped by earlier that morning, after hearing about what Sykes had attempted.
They were both horrified and worried, but Helen had reassured them she was fine, and asked them to join her next week for dinner.
Helen sat at the head of the table and smiled at the scene.
The chatter of easy conversation, the clinking of glasses, the way the B&B seemed to come alive under the Christmas lights and boughs of cedar.
She’d thought peace was impossible, that she was destined to carry the weight of Carl’s choices forever, like a millstone around her neck.
But here, now, in this little town, she felt something new. Peace. Belonging. Home.
The doorbell rang. Helen excused herself and headed to the door. Rebecca and Kacey said there was a package that was arriving today. She glanced at the time on her phone. “I feel sorry for whoever has to work on Christmas. Doesn’t seem right,” she muttered to herself.
She opened the door. Her mouth dropped.
“Surprise! I’m the Christmas package!” Her friend, Cybil, stood there on the porch wrapped in a fake fur coat with a bow on her head.
“Cybil!” She hugged her friend tight and then pulled her inside out of the cold. “What are you doing here?”
Cybil looked across Helen’s shoulder. “Your friends, Rebecca and Kacey, arranged for me to spend a few days here. I was in the airport when they called and told me how Carl’s actions had filtered down to you even more.”
Helen turned to see Rebecca grinning from ear to ear. “Merry Christmas, Helen.”
Helen didn’t attempt to stop the flood of tears.
Cybil pulled her into a tight hug. When they pulled apart, Cybil took her hands in hers.
“I also took the liberty of contacting my attorney who will be reaching out to an attorney here in North Carolina. We are going to put in for a restraining order against Carl. That way you won’t ever have to worry about him showing his face again. ”
Oliver joined them in the foyer. “I think Carl is more afraid of Helen than she is of him. She’s pretty intimidating with a rolling pin and a knife.”
Cybil chuckled. “Good. Now, show me around, Helen. I’m dying to see the room I’ll be staying in.”
Dinner was a hit, and everyone was stuffed.
After lounging in the living room under the glow of the Christmas tree, the guests, including Cybil, went to bed and Rebecca headed home.
Only Oliver was left. He helped her gather the plates and clean up the dining room.
Helen didn’t turn down his help. She was completely exhausted.
Together they carried a tray into the kitchen where the warmth of the oven lingered, sugar and vanilla still hanging in the air.
“I have to say this was the best Christmas I think I’ve ever had.” Helen smiled as she put the leftovers in the refrigerator.
“It went above and beyond my expectations. Merry Christmas, Helen.” His eyes were warm as he gazed at her.
“Merry Christmas, Oliver.”
“I guess I should be going. It’s late.” Oliver reached for his coat and shrugged it on. He opened the back door and paused.
Helen glanced up. Above him hung the sprig of mistletoe, tied up with a red ribbon.
“I don’t remember putting that up there.” She frowned. “Must have been Rebecca.”
He looked up and smiled. “Actually I saw Cybil on the kitchen chair putting that up. She couldn’t find a nail and used some tape.” He laughed. “She almost fell when she saw me.”
Helen laughed. “That sounds like Cybil.”
He met her eyes, and a grin tugged at his lips. “You know what mistletoe means.”
Her heart fluttered. Suddenly they were standing too close, and she thought she could hear his heart beating as fast as hers. For a moment, the whole world seemed to hold its breath. Then, with a quiet laugh, she stepped forward and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek.
When she drew back, she looked at him. “I want to take things slow, Oliver. But I’m moving forward. With my life. No more looking back at the past.”
He searched her face. Reaching for her hand, he brought it to his lips. He placed a kiss on the back of her knuckles. “Slow sounds just right.”
He stepped out into the night. Despite the blast of wind, she suddenly felt warm all over.
This Christmas, she realized, wasn’t about perfection. It was about choosing joy, about starting a new path in life.
And, for the first time in a long time, her new path in life felt better than before.