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Christmas from the Heart Page 20


  Mom didn’t take the hint. “It has a lot of sentimental value,” she said, setting it on the coffee table. “How was your drive?” she asked Guy as she pulled out the tiny cups and saucers that went with it.

  Miserable, filled with regret. “Long and boring,” he lied, and accepted a drink from Del.

  “We’ll make sure your time here isn’t boring,” Melianna said with a wink.

  Melianna making sure he didn’t get bored. Oh joy.

  Another man joined them now—Lizbeth’s husband, a short, loud man addicted to working out at the gym and playing tennis. He and Guy had played once when Guy and Bryan came out for the Fourth of July. Guy had won two straight sets in a row, 6-0 and 6-1, and they’d never played again.

  He gave Guy a clap on the shoulder. “Glad you could make it.”

  No, he wasn’t. Not really. And his wife sure didn’t care one way or the other. As for Melianna, she’d entertain herself flirting with him but she’d tire of that game before his visit was over. And Kimmy would adore him until it was time to open presents. Del liked him well enough and enjoyed talking business with him but was well aware of the fact that he’d come on the scene too late to be a father figure. They were friends by marriage. Sort of. Other than his mom, none of these people had cared one way or another whether Guy showed up. He was an extra body at a table that wasn’t his. He sighed inwardly and prepared for a long Christmas Day.

  The day started early, with Kimmy up before the birds. He heard footsteps running down the hall past his guest room at five, along with excited squealing, and figured any minute he’d be summoned downstairs to open presents. Her mom must have sent her back to bed though because there was no summons and the squeals turned to whining and then to silence.

  Until six. Then the entire household gave up and got up.

  “I don’t know why she can’t stay in bed and play with the things in her Christmas stocking,” Lizbeth complained as she filled her mug of coffee to take out to the living room, where her daughter was already gleefully exclaiming over the new bike Santa had brought her.

  “I never could wait,” Guy said, helping himself to a pastry. He and his brothers always got up at the first hint of sunrise. “Go back to bed” were words that were never uttered on Christmas morning in their house.

  “Boys are little beasts,” Lizbeth said, putting him in his place. “Thank God we had a girl.”

  Who would hopefully not grow up to be like her mom.

  Although it looked like she was going to grow up to be like her aunt. Both Melianna and little Kimmy appeared to specialize in greed. Melianna tore through her presents almost as fast as Kimmy, who was going at it like a frenzied terrier, barely acknowledging one before grabbing the next and pulling off the wrapping. Hair chalk, the present Guy had shipped to her, had been a big hit, earning cries of delight and a quick hug, and he was glad Mom had given him the suggestion.

  “She’s going to be as vain as her aunt,” Lizbeth said, rolling her eyes as Kimmy ripped open the next package.

  “I’m not vain,” Melianna insisted. “I’m simply honest about my assets and believe in maintaining them.” She, too, was happy with the present Guy had given her. “You can never go wrong with jewelry,” she said, thanking him. “Well, unless it’s cheap,” she added.

  That necklace hadn’t been.

  Lizbeth’s husband had gotten her jewelry, also. “Wrong color,” she murmured with a toss of her well-styled golden hair. “But I’ll exchange it.”

  “Next year I’ll just give you a check,” her husband grumbled.

  “Good idea,” she said, and kissed him on the cheek.

  Guy couldn’t help it. He found himself comparing his stepsisters to Olivia Berg. Would she have sneered at a diamond bracelet because it was the wrong color?

  Was the Berg family awake yet? Opening presents?

  * * *

  “Come on, sis, quit screwing around,” David called as Livi loaded pastries on her favorite holiday platter.

  “Coming,” she called back. She picked up the plate and her mug with her eggnog latte in it and hurried out to the living room.

  Even though there were no little kids in the house, they’d all gotten up at seven, thanks to David racing up and down the hallway, announcing it was Christmas morning and time to get up. Who needed kids when they had David, the biggest kid of all?

  While Livi made coffee, he’d turned on the tree lights and found Christmas music for them to listen to. Now he sat on the couch holding his mug, with his arm around Terryl, both wearing matching hooded holiday footie pajamas. Dad wore the bathrobe Livi had given him the year before over his pajamas and was in his favorite chair. Livi, too, was in crazy pajamas, ones that Terryl had given her the night before, insisting she had to wear them when opening presents. All part of the holiday fun.

  Livi wished she was in the mood for fun. She reminded herself that Christmas morning was no place for unhappiness and regret. This was the season for joy and kindness and gratitude. So what if her holiday fantasy had fizzled? She still had her family and that was what counted.

  “Okay, let’s get to it,” said David. He grabbed himself a pastry and knelt in front of the tree, digging among the packages. “Here’s one for Dad.” He pulled out a flat package wrapped in silver paper and decorated with a red bow, and handed it over. “Man to man,” he added.

  “Thanks, son.” Dad opened it to discover a framed picture that Livi had taken of them fishing at the river a few summers back. “I’ll have to hang this someplace special,” he said.

  It was so good to see her father smiling at Christmas. It edged away a little of the sadness, and Livi couldn’t help but smile, too.

  “And for you from us, sis,” David said, handing her a gift bag with a heft that hinted at a book inside.

  Sure enough, it was a fat treasury of holiday recipes. “I love it,” she said, hugging it to her.

  “Terryl said you would,” her brother told her. “Although I thought you could find any recipe you wanted online these days.”

  You could and she did. She was addicted to Pinterest and haunted foodie websites on a regular basis. “But there’s something special about a cookbook.”

  “We expect great things of you next Christmas,” Terryl said to her. “Speaking of expecting, open that one to you,” she said to David.

  He pulled a small box out from under the tree. “All right, a signed baseball,” he joked.

  “Aw, you guessed,” said his wife.

  He pulled off the wrapping and opened the box. His easy smile turned to wonder as he pulled out a baby rattle. “Whoa, what’s this?”

  “My present to you, babe. I just took the test a couple days ago. We’re pregnant.”

  “No way. Oh, Terryl, wow.”

  “That’s the best Christmas present ever,” said Dad as David hugged her.

  “It sure is,” David said.

  “I can hardly wait for us to tell my family later today,” she said.

  “I can hardly wait for us to have the kid,” David said. “Man, this is the best Christmas ever.”

  “Congratulations, you two,” Livi said, and hugged them. “What do you want, a girl or a boy?”

  “A girl,” said David.

  “A boy,” said Terryl. “Girls are a pain,” she told her husband. “All that drama.”

  “I like drama,” David assured her.

  “I have to admit, little girl clothes are so cute,” said Terryl.

  “And if it’s a girl we can bake together,” put in Livi.

  “And if it’s a boy Dad and I can take him fishing,” David said.

  “Or if it’s a girl,” Livi corrected him.

  “So, really, it doesn’t matter what we have as long as the baby’s healthy,” said Terryl.

  “And as good-looking as my wife,” David said, and kissed h
er.

  Livi raised her coffee mug in salute. “Well, then, here’s to a healthy baby.”

  “To a healthy baby,” everyone echoed.

  Their family was growing, and this time next year they’d have a baby in the living room with them. It was exciting news and Livi was happy for her brother and sister-in-law.

  But, she realized, she was also a little bit jealous. The best Christmas ever, her brother had said. She wished she could say the same for herself.

  Okay, so not the best Christmas ever but not the worst, either. The worst had been their first one without Mom. What was losing a potential dream man compared to that?

  And that whole thing with Joe...Guy...whatever, had been a silly, impractical dream. Middle-class girl on limited income meets Prince Charming in a Santa suit and lives happily ever after. Really? So silly. But she was back in the real world now, with real people. And that was where she was going to stay from now on.

  The family finished opening their presents—silly holiday socks from Livi to David as well as his favorite old-fashioned hard candy, a pretty snowflake ornament for her from her father to hang on the tree, the crossword puzzle book for Dad, which he said he loved. Terryl was delighted with the scarf Livi had knit and Livi was equally delighted with the Starbucks gift card from her and David.

  Then that was it. After hanging around for another couple of hours, Terryl and David packed up their things and went on to the next family gathering to share their good news.

  On the way out the door, David almost tripped over something. “What the heck?”

  There sat the floral arrangement Guy had showed up with the night before, mocking Livi.

  “Toss that thing,” David instructed her.

  He didn’t have to tell her. As soon as she and Dad had waved them away, she marched to the kitchen and threw it in the garbage.

  She’d barely gotten rid of it when Morris called. “Do you want a ride to the hall?” His voice sounded unsure. Underlying message: Are you speaking to me?

  Part of her wanted to stay home and feel sorry for herself, but Christmas from the Heart had a community dinner to put on. “Sure,” she said, trying to inject some enthusiasm into her voice.

  “Okay, I’ll be there in an hour.”

  True to his word, he arrived right on time. He looked leery as she climbed into his truck, as if bracing for a scold.

  But it wasn’t his fault he’d been the bearer of bad news. How ironic that she’d been so mad at him for the way he’d treated Joe, no, Guy, when really Guy had deserved every bit of that bad treatment and then some.

  “Are you doin’ okay?” he asked.

  “I’m fine,” she said to both him and herself.

  She handed over the calendar she’d gotten him and his eyes widened. “You got me something?”

  “I always get you something.”

  “Yeah, but this year, after... I didn’t think...”

  “Just open it.”

  He did and smiled at the red Corvette on the cover. “This is awesome. I got something for you, too,” he said, looking suddenly self-conscious. “I wasn’t sure you’d want anything from me.” He handed her an oversize card envelope.

  “Oh, Morris,” she said sadly. “How could you think that?”

  “You were pretty pissed after the restaurant. And I deserved it,” he hurried on.

  Yes, he had. He’d acted stupidly.

  But then, who was she to talk. She’d been pretty stupid herself.

  “Open it,” he urged.

  She did. The card pictured a nativity scene. Printed beneath it in gold script were the words “Good news, Good cheer.” She opened it and out fell a necklace with a small heart pendant and a check for fifty dollars. She picked up the check and saw it was made out to Christmas from the Heart.

  “Oh, Morris,” she said, tears filling her eyes.

  “I didn’t do that because of anything that happened,” he hurried to explain. “I had it planned long before...for a while.”

  “Thank you,” Livi said, smiling at him. “It’s a wonderful present. And I love the necklace.”

  He nodded, satisfied with her gratitude, and put the truck in Drive. “I know I should say I’m sorry about how things turned out, Livi, but I can’t. Yeah, I was jealous, but all along I thought he wasn’t good enough for you. Not that I am,” he hurried to add.

  Morris was honest and trustworthy, which put him head and shoulders above Guy Hightower. “Don’t say that, Morris. In fact, don’t say anything. Let’s not talk about this, okay?”

  He nodded. “Okay.”

  They rode the rest of the way in silence, Livi brooding and Morris probably wondering when she was ever going to appreciate him.

  Right now, she told herself later as he helped her and the other Christmas from the Heart volunteers serve ham and turkey, mashed potatoes and green beans to the people in the community who were in need.

  Morris really was the whole package: kind, caring, responsible. Honest. She’d be a fool to look further.

  “Another successful meal completed,” Tillie said later as she dried her hands on a dish towel.

  “Thanks for coming in early to cook,” Livi said to her.

  “Cooking a couple of turkeys, heating ham—nothing to it,” Tillie said, waving away her thanks as if that had been all there was to it. “I guess that nice young Joe Ford had to get going to be with his family.”

  Livi nodded and left it at that. He’d had to get going, all right. And now he needed to stay gone.

  * * *

  Christmas dinner with Mom and Del and the gang featured caramelized onion tarts, standing rib roast, cider-roasted vegetables, Brussels sprouts with pecans, and yams drizzled with maple syrup. At one point Guy found himself thinking how much his mother would have liked Livi Berg. They’d have enjoyed being in the kitchen together, getting creative.

  He found his mother studying him. “How is everything?” she asked.

  “Delicious,” he said, bringing out a smile and forking up some yams.

  It was a Bon Appétit worthy menu; everything was washed down with the finest of wine. The table centerpiece was an elaborate display of greens and candles set in red Mercury glass that carried out the theme Mom’s decorators had used throughout the house. Everything was perfect except for the fact that Guy was with the wrong people.

  Kimmy had indulged in too much candy and could barely sit still in her seat. She’d begged to sit by Guy, the only one besides his mom who’d paid much attention to her, and she’d bombarded him with ceaseless chatter until her mother snapped, “Enough talk. Eat your dinner.”

  Kimmy got that hurt look kids wore when they’d been unjustly scolded and pushed a Brussels sprout around her plate.

  “Mother of the year,” murmured Melianna.

  “Next year when she wakes up at five we’ll send her in with you,” Lizbeth threatened.

  “Or you can come in with your grandpa and me,” Mom said. “We’ll have a no-slumber party.”

  Kimmy liked the sound of that and her sunny mood returned.

  “Guy, I thought for sure you’d have someone with you this year,” Melianna said to him. “Still can’t decide what you want?” she teased. Underlying message: You could still have me.

  Guy knew exactly what he wanted now. Too late.

  “How about you?” he asked, turning the tables on her. “How many hearts have you broken since I saw you last?”

  “None,” she replied lightly. “At least not on purpose.”

  “You’re both young,” Mom said. “You have time to find someone special.”

  The hourglass had run out for Guy. He poured himself more wine.

  Dessert was Mom’s traditional chocolate yule log. It was spectacular. Guy ate it and thought of sugar cookies.

  After dessert, the family moved
into the living room for coffee and brandy and more conversation.

  “I’m bored,” Kimmy announced.

  Del frowned. “You just got an entire pile of toys. Play with some of them.”

  Kimmy fell into a sulk and kicked at the box containing all manner of arts and crafts supplies.

  “Here, dear,” Mom said easily. “Bring over your hair chalk and let’s make your hair pretty.”

  “So tacky,” Lizbeth muttered.

  No, tacky was setting aside the costly present your husband gave you without so much as a thank-you. Guy vowed to find a way to spend time with his mom alone in the future. Once again, he wondered what was going on at the Berg house. They were probably entertaining the neighbors now, not sniping over who hadn’t gotten what they wanted for Christmas. Or maybe Olivia was already off, feeding the world.

  Guy left the living room and wandered out to the kitchen in search of more of the holiday shortbread his mom had made for him. On the way, he stopped at the liquor cabinet in the dining room and poured himself a drink. Milk would have gone better with the cookies, but booze went better with the stepfamily.

  His mom found him lounging at the kitchen table later, nursing his drink, a couple of cookies on a plate in front of him. Sounds drifted in from another part of the house—a raised male voice, a child bursting into tears.

  “Are you having fun yet?” she teased.

  “Oh yeah, tons.” He shook his head. “How do you stand these people, Mom?”

  “Easy. I do it for Del’s sake. I’m afraid his wife spoiled the girls and he wasn’t around much when they were little, so now he spoils them, too. But really, we don’t see that much of them. A couple of days at Christmas, a week during the summer. I can live with that.”

  “Are you happy?”

  She shrugged. “As happy as someone can be who lost the love of her life. Del’s a good man,” she hurried to add.

  “Yeah, he is,” Guy acknowledged, and downed the last of his drink.

  “Speaking of happy, what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Guy Jamison Hightower, don’t lie to me. I can always tell when something’s bothering you.”