Chapter 22
twenty-two
On Christmas morning, Olivia tried not to focus on the way Malcolm had said goodnight on Christmas Eve.
In his defense, things had gotten a little crazy in her house.
Some of the younger McEntires had insisted that the older generation, primarily their parents and Olivia’s grandmother, call it a night while they lingered in her mom’s kitchen to assist with cleanup.
And since Malcolm was among the cleanup crew, Olivia had naturally joined in.
Everyone was trying to keep it fairly quiet since it was close to midnight, but the general atmosphere continued to be jovial and fun.
Sadie was out of her doggy crate and was running around the kitchen and nearly getting stepped on when Olivia noticed a puddle on the floor right next to the pup.
After gently scolding Sadie, like Malcolm had explained was a necessary step in the process of dog training, she grabbed some paper towels and started to clean it up.
Meanwhile, Malcolm’s youngest brother’s new girlfriend scooped up the puppy.
“Poor Sadie,” Kristen cooed in baby talk. “Did mean old Olivia yell at you?”
Olivia started to say something, but instead she waited, hoping that Malcolm would come to her defense.
But he was too distracted with joking with his sister as they washed dishes, and so she just listened in aggravation as Kristen overblew the whole thing.
And then the silly girl walked the pup over to Malcolm.
“Your poor neglected puppy is being growled at,” she told him in more baby talk. “Poor little Sadie is in danger of getting stepped on or kicked in here.” She sidled up close to him. “Do you want me to take care of her for you, Malcolm? And spare her from this mob?”
He just laughed. “Sure. Thanks. I wouldn’t like to see her injured.”
“But if she was injured, I bet the big, strong vet could fix the little girl right up.” Kristen was clearly flirting now, and maybe Olivia was just tired, but as she tossed the damp paper towel, she was also irritated by the younger girl and her stupid baby talk.
And so she went into the living room, busying herself with straightening things up in there.
She knew she was still stewing over Kristen’s juvenile behavior, but she’d really hoped that Malcolm would’ve defended her.
Or at least come out to say something to her.
After all, she’d simply been doing as he’d told her.
She picked a sofa cushion off the floor, plumped it, and set it on the couch.
“Aha,” Malcolm said from behind her in a teasing tone. “I found the perfectionist hard at work.”
She spun around to face him. “I am not a perfectionist.”
He looked surprised. “I was just kidding.”
She bit her lower lip. “I know. But it’s sensitive territory.”
“I guess.” He frowned slightly. “Sorry.”
She thought about explaining herself—that she was only trying to make the house look better in case her mother got up early.
After all, she’d already been through a lot, and tomorrow would be another gathering of the Bradshaws and McEntires.
Seems like he could appreciate that. But instead, she stood silently.
“I really am sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to step on your toes.”
“I think I’m just tired,” she told him. And irritated at Kristen, she wanted to add, but she knew that would sound childish.
“It’s late,” he said with a disappointed expression.
“Yeah, tomorrow will be another busy day.” She picked up another cushion and tossed it onto the couch. “Guess we should say goodnight.”
“Yeah,” he agreed. Just then, one of his sisters called out to him to take out the garbage. “Goodnight,” he said hastily.
“Goodnight.” And despite knowing she was taking this all wrong and acting even more like a baby than silly Kristen, she’d turned and run up the stairs with hot tears burning in her eyes.
But today was a new day, she told herself as she got up early, determined to put a bit more effort into making her mom’s house a little tidier.
Malcolm could call her a perfectionist if he wanted, but she was simply trying to be considerate.
Did she appreciate tidiness and order? Probably .
. . but not to the point of perfectionism, she hoped.
As she went into the kitchen, which surprisingly looked better than it had in days, she reminded herself it was Christmas. And it would be a good day. As she made coffee, adding a cinnamon stick to make it festive, she began to hum Christmas carols to herself. Yes, it would be a good day.
She carried her cinnamon-flavored coffee with cream through the house, pausing by the nativity scene Malcolm had carved, and stood there admiring it. Picking up the tiny manger and babe, she felt a sense of wonder. That first Christmas must’ve been so humble . . . and yet so amazing.
“Good morning,” Malcolm quietly said from the landing. “And Merry Christmas.” He came down the stairs in stockinged feet, carrying his boots. He set his boots by the front door and then came back to her, slipping an arm around her waist. “Still like it?” he asked, nodding toward the nativity scene.
“Like it?” She smiled at him. “I love it.”
“Good. Now I want to apologize for last night.” He kissed her forehead. “After you went to bed, my older sister took me aside.”
“Jocelyn did?” She peered curiously at him.
“She explained how Kristen was playing you. I should’ve warned you that Nate’s girlfriend is kind of a piece of work. Rumor is he’s thinking about breaking up with her.”
“Oh?”
“Anyway, Jocelyn explained how Kristen had treated you over Sadie’s little accident.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry. I guess I missed that. You were doing it exactly right. Kristen is just, well, she’s just dumb.” He laughed.
“And I guess I was feeling a bit jealous when she was getting all cozy with you.”
His eyes lit up. “You were jealous?”
“Yeah, pretty silly, huh?”
He tipped his head to one side. “I don’t know. I think it’s kind of sweet.”
She set down the tiny manger and baby, then looked up at him. “Thanks for apologizing.”
He leaned down to kiss her. “Thanks for getting jealous.”
She held up her coffee mug, which was now in need of a warm-up. “Want some?”
“I do. But how do you feel about taking a little morning stroll first?” He nodded toward the front window. “It’s a clear day, and I’d like to see the sun coming up on the snow.”
“Just let me get my coat and boots,” she told him.
“Meet me outside.”
Olivia’s feet felt light as angels’ wings as she skipped up the stairs.
She had felt confident that last night’s little debacle had been mostly in her mind, but it was reassuring to hear Malcolm apologize.
And now they would go on a delightful Christmas morning walk.
She pulled a knit cap on, slid into her parka, and shoved on her boots, then hurried back downstairs. Malcolm was waiting on the porch.
“Check out that blue sky,” he said as they went down the steps. “I just looked at the weather on the other side of the mountain.”
“Let me guess. Raining?”
He grinned. “Yep.” He took her hand. “I’m not going to miss that.”
She wanted to say “Me too” but knew she’d have to explain it.
“Would you ever want to move back here?” he asked as they walked down the footpath, snow crunching underfoot.
“Under the right circumstances, yes.”
“What about your job?”
She shrugged. “Fortunately, the kind of work I do can be done off-site. Or if I really wanted, I could get into something else. Sometimes I fantasize about doing something completely different.”
“Really?” He paused to look at her. “Like what?”
“I don’t know. I mean, I’ve always been kind of creative. At least, I imagined I was. And when I went to work at the marketing firm, I’d hoped I’d get to exercise some of that creativity. And I suppose I do, but not like I’d hoped.”
“What would you do that’s more creative?” he asked.
“I’m not sure. Sometimes I imagine having a little craft store.
You know, the kind of place where people can come take classes and learn various crafts.
Both for kids and adults. I remember how I used to do things like that with your mom.
It was always so fun. And this town doesn’t really have anything like that anymore. ”
“That sounds like a great idea. I know my mom would be for it.”
“Mine too. I mean, she’s always enjoyed crafting. Of course, it was always in her perfectionist way.” She chuckled. “Which is exactly why I preferred doing crafts with your mom.”
They paused by the city park. “Look at that.” Malcolm pointed to the gazebo all covered in snow and washed in golden light from the sun now fully coming up.
“Oh my.” Olivia gasped. “It’s so beautiful. I wish I had my phone to get a picture.”
“Take a picture with your brain,” he teased.
“It lasts longer.” He tugged her hand. “Let’s go check it out more closely.
” Leaving a trail of footprints in the freshly fallen snow, they traipsed over to the gazebo, going up the steps and standing inside to look at the eastern horizon now glowing in dawn light.
“Merry Christmas,” he told her, sealing it with a kiss.
“Merry Christmas,” she said back.
“Olivia,” he began slowly, his expression suddenly shy. “You may have figured this out by now, but I’d like to say it out loud. I love you.”
She felt her throat tighten as she nodded, hoping she’d be able to speak. “I love you too, Malcolm.”
His face brightened even more. “How about Sadie?” he asked.
“Sadie?” She felt confused.
“Yeah. Do you love her?”
She laughed. “Of course. I thought you knew that. In fact, I’d like to steal her from you.”
“What if we both kept her?”
“Joint custody?” she asked with a tilted head.
And right there in the snow, Malcolm went down on one knee. “Olivia Bradshaw, will you marry me?”
She felt her smile grow wider and wider as she eagerly nodded. “Yes, Malcolm McEntire, I will gladly marry you.” Then she fell down to her knees and hugged him.
They exchanged some more enthusiastic kisses until their knees started getting cold, and then he helped her to her feet.
“Do you think the Bradshaws and McEntires can handle this?” he asked. “Particularly your mother?”
“Well, it’s already been a pretty messy Christmas for my poor mother,” she concluded. “Might as well throw one more happy mess at her.”
“Here’s to a messy Christmas.” He kissed her again.
“A messy Christmas to you too.” She laughed.
The End