CHAPTER 60
Phoebe
The dining room is flooded with the warmth of the fireplace and the twinkling of Christmas lights. The garlands of evergreen boughs fill the air with sweet fragrance. Mama has switched out her huge decorative centerpiece for a more sedate collection of candles and ivy.
But I notice something has been added to the table since I went upstairs to change.
First of all, Dad is dressed up in a nice shirt and is seated at the head of the table. And at each place setting, a large heavyweight envelope is propped against a water goblet. The crisp white envelope is tied up in a simple red silk bow and our names are handwritten on the front of each card.
“What’s this?” I ask my mom as I take my seat to her left.
She shrugs.
My brothers file in and take their seats. All are frowning.
“Since when do we have fancy place cards?” Ryder asks.
“Do I have to sit here?” Mason asks.
“I’d rather sit—”
“Sit down,” Dad says, interrupting Kyle.
My brothers take their seats.
Only then do I see the devilish grin on my dad’s face. My brothers stare at him, baffled.
“Oh, they’re not from me. I’m just the messenger. But before we open these, I have something to share with everyone. I know you’re all ready to eat, so I won’t belabor the point, but here it is.”
I worry he’s talking too much. I don’t want him to get exhausted. I start to rise but he motions for me to sit and takes a deep breath from the portable oxygen tank beside his chair.
“The MacLaines are not our enemy, and we are not theirs. It’s time to move on.”
The pronouncement lands with a thud. I see Jake’s spine stiffen.
“Jake I know what I asked of you, and I thank you for taking on that responsibility. But you can let it go now, son. It’s over. It’s not your burden to carry, and I see it was unfair to ask that of you in the first place.”
Jake’s eyes flash to me. I give him a smile. There’s a difficult conversation to be had between the two of us, no doubt, and we’ll have it. But for now, Dad’s words have helped.
My dad continues. “Bottom line is this—my granddaddy Tatum was a card cheat of the first order, and he got himself in hot water on a regular basis. In a game of poker with Jamie MacLaine’s grandfather, he lost big, and handed over the deed to ten thousand acres of our western meadow on the spot.”
Everyone but my mom gasps. Right then, something in my mind clicks. Is this what it’s been about?
“That western pasture is some of the prettiest land out here!” Ryder says.
“You’re right. And for the rest of my granddaddy’s life, he complained to anyone who would listen that Angus MacLaine was the cheat, and our land had been stolen.”
“You never told us any of this,” Jake says.
“For a reason. I suspected the whole story was complete horseshit and I decided not to throw gasoline on the fire. But baked-in resentment is damn near impossible to get rid of, and it rubbed off on you boys.”
He takes a deep breath through his nose.
“I’ve done you all a disservice by encouraging the rivalry. And I’m sorry. Izzy, you were right, as usual—I should have put this whole matter to rest years ago. I’m sorry I didn’t follow your advice.”
She reaches over and grabs my dad’s hand. I don’t think I’ve ever seen them exchange such a loving look. It’s reassuring to see how much she really does love him.
“Evander just dropped off the deed. The MacLaines gave us our land back. And that’s what you needed to hear before you opened the envelopes, so let’s do it so we can eat.”
“Evander was here?” I ask, surprised.
“To see me,” Dad says. “You’ll see him soon enough, and then as much as you want.”
Bo’s already ripped into his envelope. He’s never been a patient person.
I slip the envelope open and pull out a very expensive formal invitation. On the front it says, “In Celebration of Finlay and Emma.”
Wait. I’ve already received an invitation. But I look around the table and realize everyone has now received one.
Oh.
In my invitation is a note from Evander. I’ve never before seen his handwriting. It’s elegant but no-nonsense. Just like the man himself.
Dear Phoebe,
I miss my blizzard enchantress something awful.
If you’re reading this, it means that my efforts to smooth things over between the Travassholes and MacLames have been successful, at least initially. I’m optimistic that we’re off to a good start. (Yes, I said I’m optimistic. See what you’ve done to me?)
If you’re reading this, your dad has given his blessing to you and me.
You’ve probably figured out by now that we’re inviting your whole family to the wedding celebration, and I look forward to sharing the happy occasion with everyone. No worries—it’s a designated fistfight-free zone and Special K has been put in charge of security.
I can’t wait to see you. I can’t wait to see you in that dress.
I love you. I love you always, my pretty Phoebe.
Evander
P.S. I really want to see that dress on you, and then at some point, I want to see that dress in a wrinkled heap on the floor.
I hear a pitiful squeak escape from my throat, and I do my best to cover it up with a cough, knowing I need to hide my reaction to the note.
Unfortunately, my panties are about to catch fire.
I slowly close the invitation and slip it back into the envelope, then take a sip of water. Only then do I glance up at my family.
Everyone’s staring at me.
“So this is really happening?” One of Jake’s eyelids twitches.
“Yes,” I say.
“Then let’s eat!” Kyle says.
So we do. And after dinner, we move into the sitting room to exchange presents, as is the Travassholes’ Christmas Eve tradition.
Having Dad with us is the most priceless gift of all, of course. This has indeed been the best Christmas any of us could have wished for.
And the MacLaines helped make it happen. Just as Evander promised.
I can see my dad is getting tired, so I walk over to where he’s sitting by the fire. I hug him gently and kiss his cheek. “Thank you,” I whisper to him. “I love you, Daddy. Merry Christmas.”