Chapter 4
4
Frankie stepped out of the car, a shiver running through her as the crisp winter air wrapped around her. She paused, eyes fixed on her grandmother’s house in Bethlehem Falls. Something wasn’t right. The driver was busy unloading her bags from the trunk, but Frankie barely noticed.
The house, usually so full of warmth and charm, stood quietly under a layer of snow, like a forgotten ornament in a town bursting with holiday cheer. Where the rest of Bethlehem Falls was decked out in full festive glory, this house had only a lonely Christmas wreath on the door and, strangely enough, pallets of construction materials cluttering the driveway. The sight sent a ripple of unease through her — this was not the homecoming she had imagined.
The driver silently handed her the luggage, offered a quick nod, then slipped back into the car and drove off without a word.
Frankie shook her head, muttering under her breath, “Merry Christmas to you too,” her tone tinged with sarcasm.
Dragging her bags to the front door, Frankie rummaged through her purse until she found the key and slipped it into the lock. The door creaked open, revealing a small pile of mail scattered across the foyer floor as if it had been pushed through the slot and left to accumulate over several days. The sight immediately set her on edge — something was definitely off.
“Gram?” she called out, her voice echoing in the stillness. But there was no response.
She stepped over the scattered mail, her suitcase landing with a heavy thud as she set it down. Bending to gather the envelopes and magazines, she quickly placed them in a neat pile on the console, trying to shake the unease creeping up her spine. The house felt too quiet, too still, as if it had been waiting for her to arrive and disturb its silence.
“Strange,” she murmured, frowning at the pile. “That’s days’ worth of mail.”
Leaving her suitcase by the door, Frankie ventured further into the house. The place felt unusually quiet, the kind of quiet that made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. The living room was dark, the curtains drawn, and — most surprising of all — completely devoid of any holiday decor.
“No tree? Where are you, Gram?” Frankie wondered aloud, pulling out her phone.
She dialed her grandmother’s number, listening to the ringtone as she wandered into the kitchen, only to find a construction zone instead of the warm, inviting space she remembered. The refrigerator was still standing, though, and she noticed her grandmother’s calendar hanging beside it. It was blank. The phone rang through to voicemail.
“Hey, Gram. Where are you? I’m at the house, and... you’re not. Call me, please,” she said, leaving a message as she hung up and continued her exploration.
Frankie roamed down the hallway, peeking into the bedrooms, each more disarrayed than the last, with tools and tarps scattered about. It was as if the whole house had been turned upside down, and there was no sign of her grandmother anywhere. Her phone rang suddenly, breaking the silence, and she saw "Gram" flashing on the screen. Relief washed over her as she answered, switching to speakerphone.
“Gram? Hello? Can you hear me?” Frankie called out, walking back to the living room.
On the other end, Gloria Malone — vibrant, full of life, and clearly the life of some distant party — was struggling to hear over the noise of a busy restaurant. “Honey? Is that you? Can you hear me, dear? Frankie?”
“Yeah, I can hear you,” Frankie replied, a mix of confusion and relief. “Are you okay? Where are you?”
“Mexico for tacos and churros with my lady gang,” Gloria responded cheerfully. “Didn’t you get my messages? I must’ve left three.”
Frankie cringed, quickly scrolling through her phone to find several unopened voicemails tagged “Gram.”
“Oh. Right. Yeah, the messages.”
Gloria chuckled. “Had a little trouble hearing your message, dear. Did you say you’re in Bethlehem Falls?”
“Surprise,” Frankie replied, leaning against the counter. “Speaking of surprises, this is a hefty renovation you’re doing here.”
“Had to,” Gloria explained. “Pipe burst. Flooded the whole place. Didn’t you get the message?”
“Pipe burst... gosh, I’ve been so busy, it must’ve slipped my mind.” As Frankie admitted it, a pang of guilt settled in, the weight of ignored messages pressing down on her.
“I was going to come to the city and join you for Christmas, and when I didn’t hear back, I decided to join the ladies on their holiday excursion to paradise,” Gloria said, the sound of tropical music and clinking glasses faintly audible in the background.
Frankie plopped onto the couch with a sigh. “I’m sorry, Gram. I must’ve missed that message.”
“Don’t be sorry, sweetheart,” Gloria reassured her. “I figured you just wanted a romantic holiday with that guy of yours and didn’t need pesky old grandma hanging around.”
“Never,” Frankie said, a bittersweet smile tugging at her lips. “I’ll always want to spend Christmas with you. And for the record, Ethan and I broke up.”
“Oh honey, I’m so sorry. Now I feel bad I’m not there for you. I should come home,” Gloria offered, her voice laced with concern.
“It’s okay, and you should stay,” Frankie said, leaning back against the cushions. “Strangely enough, I’m okay with the breakup. The relationship just didn’t feel... right anymore.”
“Well, good,” Gloria replied, a note of relief in her voice. “I was never a fan of Evan. Always seemed like he was up to something.”
Frankie laughed softly. “It’s Ethan, Gram. You know he hates that you always called him Evan. Anyway, he’s a good guy, just not the one for me.”
“Well, you know I’ve been waiting for you and that King boy to rekindle the spark,” Gloria teased.
Frankie nearly choked on her water. “Gram. Joe King? We broke up in high school. That was a lifetime ago. We were kids.”
“You never know,” Gloria sang, ever the romantic. “Christmas is a magical time of year, after all. What’s your plan, hon?”
“I’d stay here and have a nice, quiet holiday, but sleeping next to a table saw doesn’t feel... festive,” Frankie replied, glancing around at the chaos.
“I’m sorry, honey. You could always join me and the ladies in Mexico for Christmas on the beach,” Gloria suggested.
“It’s okay,” Frankie said, getting up to look out the window at the falling snow. “I’ll figure it out. It’s really coming down outside. I might just head back to the city so I don’t get snowed in.”
“I have to go, dear. Our food arrived — a big platter of tacos. Are you sure you’re going to be okay? I can come home...” Gloria offered once more, her concern evident.
“No, stay. Have a great time. You deserve it. Maybe a nice quiet holiday to myself is exactly what I need,” Frankie assured her.
“Let me know what you decide to do, and feel free to use Felix while you’re in town. Love you!” Gloria said, the line going dead before Frankie could respond.
“Love you too. Merry... Christmas,” Frankie mumbled to herself, staring at her phone screen. She slid it into her pocket and sighed, turning back to the window.
A moment later, Frankie found herself standing in her grandmother’s garage, her luggage at her side. As the large door rolled up, she was greeted by the sight of Felix — the Christmas red vintage Bronco adorned with a wreath on the grill and reindeer antlers attached to each door window.
Frankie couldn’t help but smile. “Hello, Felix.” It looked like this Christmas was about to take an unexpected turn.