Chapter 24
“They’re beautiful.” Harlow held up the vintage earrings, a pair of silver Petoskey stones, admiring the unique honeycomb pattern on each side. “Thank you, Lottie. I love them.”
“You’re welcome” Lottie clasped her hands. “I made them myself.”
“Lottie is a Jill of all trades,” David insisted.
“And the master of none,” she shot back.
“Not at all,” he disagreed. “You can do just about anything you set your mind to…cooking, gardening, even making jewelry.”
“Not to mention she’s a card shark,” Harlow teased.
“One of my finest traits,” Lottie chuckled.
Eryn and Aunt Birdie opened their presents. Similar to Harlow’s, they were Petoskey stone earrings but with slightly different patterns.
The women oohed and aahed over their gifts.
“What about Dad?” Harlow asked.
Lottie and David looked at each other. “We exchanged gifts already.”
“Oh?” Harlow shot them a sly side glance. “And what did you give each other?”
The tips of Lottie’s ears turned red. “I…uh.”
“Harlow.” Aunt Birdie waved her finger. “I’m sure if they wanted us to know, they would have told us.”
“True. Forget I asked. Carry on.”
David passed out his presents—one for Eryn, one for Birdie and the last for Harlow.
Inside Harlow’s box she found a hand-carved birdhouse, painted forest green and trimmed in white. A tiny crow’s nest sat perched atop it. She held it up to the light and found mosaic tiles in vivid shades of blue, pink and yellow. “You made this.”
“I did,” David beamed proudly. “I have some shepherd’s hooks out in the shed and figured you could put it near the kitchen window to watch the birds.”
“I love it.” She sprang from her chair and hugged her father. “It’s perfect. I’ll cherish it forever.”
Aunt Birdie was next. Her gift, also handmade, was a set of wind chimes. Eryn was last. David had built a wooden storage box for the back of her bicycle.
Birdie began gathering up the paper while Mort nosed his way around the floor, searching for snacks.
“I have a gift for Mort. I couldn’t forget our special furry family member.” Harlow reached under the tree and slid an oblong box toward him. “This is for you, buddy.”
The pup sniffed the wrapped package. Deeming it uninteresting, he turned to go.
Harlow flung her arm around him. “You’ll want this, I promise. Sit.”
Mort watched as she removed the paper and peeled back the packing tape. Unfolding the flaps, she reached inside and held up the biggest dog bone she could find.
She could’ve sworn Mort’s eyes lit up. He lunged forward, snatched the bone from her hand and took off.
“I think he likes it.”
“Based on how he took it and ran, I’m going to say he’ll have that bone gone by dinnertime,” David predicted.
Aunt Birdie dusted her hands. “Are we done with our Christmas celebration?”
“Not yet.” Harlow ran to her room, returning with a large cardboard box. She reached inside and handed a Christmas gift bag to her aunt, a second bag to her best friend and the last to Lottie.
“What beautiful bags.” Eryn held hers up, showing the others the hand-painted Christmas scene, a family trudging through deep snow, the father dragging a tree behind him while children, their faces ruddy from the cold wintry air, danced alongside.
“I had a friend, a set designer who is also an up-and-coming artist, make them for me. They remind me of Mackinac Island.”
“Look at this one.” Her aunt lifted her bag and slowly spun it around, showing off the quintessential church with a towering steeple and a decorated Christmas tree near the front, piles of drifting snow on the ground with a star twinkling down in the night sky. “Your friend is very talented.”
“I would say so.” Lottie admired her custom bag, featuring smiling snowmen and dancing reindeer, holding hands as they circled a Christmas tree near the edge of a forest.
“Thank you. I’m glad you like the bags. Hopefully, you’ll like what's inside even more.”
Eryn pulled out a gold foil envelope with her name written on the front. “What’s this?”
“Good things come in small packages, or in this case envelopes,” Harlow said.
Flipping the flaps, she pulled out a Christmas card with a similar winter scene and read the inside inscription. “Merry Christmas. I love you. Harlow.”
Eryn held up the gift cards, letting out an audible gasp. “Harlow Wynn.”
“What is it?” David craned his neck.
“An airline gift card.”
“There’s more.”
“Oh my gosh. And a thousand dollars.”
“Spending money for when you come and visit me on the set.”
Aunt Birdie found the same generous gift in her envelope. “This is too much. You already gave us each a tidy chunk of change after you wrapped up your last project.”
“This is different. It’s Christmas. And besides, I have an ulterior motive—to coerce you to come see me,” Harlow said.
“No coercing is needed,” her aunt argued. “We’ll be there because we love you.”
“Ditto.” Eryn hugged her bestie. “The Mackies are planning a visit too.”
“The more, the merrier.”
“You’re the most thoughtful person I know.” Lottie gave her a warm hug. “But I’ll echo what the others said—this was too much.”
“I’m glad you like your gifts, and now none of you has an excuse not to see me.”
“You’ll have a hard time getting rid of us,” her aunt declared. “Did you get your father plane tickets too?”
“No.” Harlow tapped the side of her chin. “Dad’s gift is a pinch more practical.”
“New work boots?” Lottie joked.
“No, but close.” Harlow hustled to the door and slipped her coat and boots on. “He’ll have to come outside to see it.”
David, with Lottie, Aunt Birdie and Eryn following close behind, put their cold weather gear on and congregated on the porch.
After confirming they were all there, Harlow ran down the sidewalk and past the gate. She didn’t slow until she reached the hiding spot, just out of sight of the house.
She climbed on the jet-black snowmobile, a top of the line model designed for comfort and maneuverability, and fired it up.
Giving it a little gas, she cautiously steered it around the clump of trees to the front of the house.
David’s jaw dropped, watching as his daughter pulled alongside the curb. Harlow hopped off, beaming from ear to ear. “Merry Christmas, Dad.”
He slowly made his way down the steps and to the gate. “A snowmobile?”
“Brand spanking new.” She patted the handlebars. “All gassed up and ready to go.”
“I don’t…how did?”
“You’ve been talking about buying a sled for months. I did it for you.” Harlow handed him the key. “Take her for a spin.”
“What fun!” Lottie clapped her hands. “She’s a beaut.”
“Yes. Take her for a spin. Lottie would like a ride,” her aunt said.
“This is too expensive.”
“No, it’s not,” Harlow said. “It’s the perfect gift for the best father a daughter could ask for.”
David wrapped his arms around Harlow, squeezing her tightly. “I love the snowmobile, but the best gift you gave me was coming home.”
“Thanks, Dad,” Harlow whispered. “I’m glad I’m home too.”