Chapter 23
Christmas Eve Night
“Holly?” I jerked awake at the gentle touch on my arm, and shivered. Mom hovered over me, a cautious smile on her face. The dying fire and smattering of sausage balls on the platter—not to mention the ache in my left hip—proved I’d fallen asleep in my Adirondack chair.
Dazed, I sat upright and tugged the blanket higher. “I missed the end of the story?”
“You actually interrupted the story with your snoring.” Mom grinned as she tugged her beanie farther over her ears. “I didn’t have the heart to wake you.”
Fabulous. At least Nick hadn’t been there for that.
Nick. My stomach clenched. Would I ever be able to think of him without a gut reaction?
Mom took the seat next to me. “I know it’s cold out here and we should go in, but I wanted to show you something first.” She picked up the box I hadn’t noticed at her feet and rested it on her lap.
“What’s that?” I pulled my legs up under the blanket and bent forward to see.
Mom pointed to the words scrawled in Sharpie across the front. Holly’s Christmas Keepsakes.
I reached over and untucked the flap. She helped open the other side, and suddenly, I was staring at a mass of red and green nostalgia. Clumsy homemade ornaments. Embroidered stockings. American Girl holiday books. “What is all this?”
“Your Christmas memorabilia.” Mom shrugged. “I put it away, bit by bit, when you were a teen and started complaining about the holidays.” She shook her head. “I was reading a parenting book about respecting your children and their differences, and, well, it made sense at the time.”
I picked up a homemade ornament I’d made in the first grade, a crude rendering of a reindeer missing half an antler. “You mean, you put all this away because you thought it upset me to see it?”
“Sounds silly now, but yes.” Mom tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “You were so adamant about how much you disliked the holidays—seemed offended, really. I wanted to respect that even though I didn’t understand it.”
“I didn’t even know you noticed.” I traced the glittered outline of the antler.
“Of course I did. Then you stopped coming home for Christmas regularly, so I left it boxed up. It became out of sight, out of mind, I suppose.” Mom touched my arm. “But a little birdie said something this morning that made me think perhaps you needed to see it after all.”
Tears burned the back of my eyes. “I thought my stuff not being with everyone else’s meant you didn’t care as much.”
“Oh, Holly, that’s so far from true.” Mom gripped my arm. “I’m sorry I made you feel that way.”
“You didn’t know.” The lump in my throat loosened a little. “I should have said something instead of assuming.”
“Why did you have that sudden turn? You never wanted to talk about it when you were younger, so again, I chose not to push.” She wrinkled her pert nose. “Maybe that was a bad decision in hindsight. Parenting is hard, Holly.”
“No, you and Dad did great, Mom.” I sighed. “It’s just also kinda hard having a Christmas birthday.”
“I know you got overshadowed some years. I’m really sorry about that too.” It was Mom’s turn to sigh. “I guess your father and I should have thought about that before taking that romantic getaway in March…”
“ Mom. ” I shot her a horrified look, feeling my cheeks light. “That’s okay. Really. ”
Carefully, I laid the ornament back in the box, then smiled at the one below it—a misshapen snowman wearing a swimsuit. “I’m starting to realize I should have done a lot of things differently myself.” I waved the goofy ornament at her. “And not just in arts and crafts.”
“Are you talking about Nick?” Mom pulled out a red plaid stocking and smoothed the tattered seam, her voice morphing into the one she always used when us girls lived at home and had new crushes. That interested-but-going-to-pretend-I’m-not-so-you’ll-keep-talking voice.
“Not just Nick, but yeah, him too. But it’s too late. Just because I had a change of heart about Christmas doesn’t mean he has.” I set the snowman back in the box and closed the flap. “I still don’t know what he really thinks of me.”
“I won’t speak for him, but I do know that he was the little birdie that prompted me to clear some things up here.” Mom tapped the box in her lap.
That was sweet. But that didn’t mean he had true feelings forme.
“ And. ” Mom folded her arms over the top and leaned toward me, her gaze serious. “He took himself out of the running. Said he refuses to buy the property now.”
Huh. That was a little weird, but it didn’t necessarily have anything to do with me. After everything that went down yesterday, I wouldn’t want to do business with my family either. “But you’re still selling to someone?”
“Yes, I believe so.” A disappointed frown creased her forehead. “If we can find another buyer we feel good about, that is.” She sighed.
“I want you to know I’m okay with it, if you move. I know I didn’t show it last night, but it just caught me off guard.” I took her hand and squeezed. “Because, well, I guess there’s still one more secret.”
Mom winced as if bracing herself.
I matched her expression. “I sort of got laid off.”
“Right before Christmas?” Mom’s eyes bugged. “Holly. I’m so sorry. That’s awful.”
“That was my first reaction.”
Mom frowned. “Do you need anything? I can get your father to—”
“Not right now.” I blew out a sigh. “I’ve come to terms with it. Honestly, I wasn’t happy there, and I’m sure my bosses could tell. I’m still a little worried about finances, but I have a fresh start ahead. A clean slate. And I realize now that’s what you and Dad want too. In Florida.”
“It is.” Mom looked past me, at the house, and a wistful smile slid across her face. “This farm was a gift. We raised five beautiful, talented, amazing children. But now we’re empty nesters, and it’s too much for us alone. I’d love to see it passed down to someone else with kids.”
My chest tightened again. Nick and his dream.
Had I ruined that plan? Had I chased Nick away?
But no, he was the one who knew the plan all along and didn’t bother to tell me.
He had every opportunity to bring me in on it and chose not to.
There couldn’t be a good reason for that.
Definitely not one that would point toward his having any true feelings for me.
And way too many that pointed toward him not.
“I think that’s why Nick’s idea intrigued us so much from the beginning. This wouldn’t just be a place for a few kids to grow up—it’d be a place for a lot of them.” Mom squeezed my hand in return, then let go. “But who knows. Maybe it’s not meant tobe.”
The back door slammed. Ryan thudded down the steps toward us, huffing into his gloveless hands. “You two are going to freeze out here. It must have dropped ten degrees since we went in.”
“We were just heading in.” Mom set the box on the ground and stood, stopping to hug Ryan. “Merry Christmas Eve.” Then she bent over and pressed a kiss on my forehead. “And merry Christmas Eve to you, Holly Berry.”
This time, the nickname warmed a little instead of cut. There were still conversations Mom and I needed to have, but this felt like an amazing start.
She saw me.
I smiled back. “Merry Christmas, Mama.” At least one good thing had come from this night. Two, if you counted my little Grinch heart growing a few sizes.
I’d have to be content with that.
Ryan moved to stand directly in front of me as Mom slipped inside the house.
“Look, I’ll get right to it, sis, partly because there have been enough secrets and partly because it’s ridiculously cold out here.
” He stamped his feet a few times. “I’ve texted with Nick a little, and I can’t get a lot out of him, but I think I see some of the confusion here. ”
“No confusion.” I looked past him at the dwindling remains of the fire. “I fell for Nick, but Nick never really fell for me. It was all just games and ulterior motives for him.”
“That’s not true.”
“It’s okay. I’m not mad, I promise. No more pranks.” I held up both hands in surrender. “I’m moving on. It just stings a little.” Yeah, and the Grinch was just a little green.
“No, I’m telling you, Holly, that can’t be true.” Ryan dropped to a squat in front of my chair so we were closer to the same level. “When Nick told me about Operation: Jack & Sally, he asked me not to tell you.”
“I know. And I really don’t want to relive that, okay?
” I pushed my legs down and started to stand.
I wanted to hang on to the bit of Christmas miracle I’d had with my mom, and Ryan dredging the Nick stuff back up was killing the vibe.
“He just wanted to keep the charade going so Dad would think we were still together, and Nick could stay in the running for the farm.”
Of course, Mom said he’d backed out. But probably because he realized it was all too far gone to mess with now. His plan had failed.
“No!” Ryan batted at my knee like a cat. “Listen to me, Holly Berry.”
I narrowed my eyes and leaned forward. “Just because Mom used that nickname doesn’t mean—”
Ryan shoved his hand against my mouth. “Nick wanted to keep pretending to date you because he wanted to actually date you.”
I pulled back and blinked at him. “What do you mean?” A tiny seed of hope sprouted, but I immediately doused it with weed killer. I couldn’t go back down that road.
But Ryan looked so sure.
“Holly.” He stood, pulling me up with him and holding my shoulders.
“I wouldn’t lie about this. You’re my sister, and the only reason I invited Nick here in the first place was to make you happy.
Cheer you up from your crappy last few months.
I thought the least I could do was help you get a date for the party and forget the fact you’d been laid off and only courted by guys obsessed with IKEA. ”
And the hits kept coming.