A Merry Little Christmas: 1225 Christmas Tree Lane / 5-B Poppy Lane

Sophie groaned. “And did you hear how she talked to me? Like I’m ten years old. For a minute I thought she was going to pinch my cheek and tell me how cute I was.”

“Dad and Danielle? It’s a joke,” Bailey muttered. “A terrible joke.”

“That’s what you said about the divorce—until it happened.”

“I know. I just don’t want to believe this…whatever it is.” But she’d seen the way Danielle had looked at their father. Clearly, he didn’t have a clue. This woman was set on getting a big diamond ring from him. Bailey was bound and determined that wasn’t going to happen. Not on her watch. If ever their father had needed help, it was now. They had to do something before he made the second-biggest mistake of his life. The first had been going through with the divorce.

“Well, you’d better come up with an idea fast, or you’ll be spending next Thanksgiving with Dad and your new stepmother. Just you and Danielle and Dad. ‘Cause I’m not going. I’ll be here with Mom.”

“Don’t say that,” Bailey moaned. “Besides, you’ll have to come.”

“Nope. I don’t like Danielle.”

“Me, neither.”

“There’s got to be something we can do,” Sophie said.

“What?” Bailey asked in frustration, which was immediately followed by discouragement. “We can’t let this happen. We just can’t.”

“I agree. Think, Bailey. You always come up with good plans.”

“I’m trying, I’m trying.”

Sophie kicked off her shoes and sat cross-legged on the bed. “First, we have to figure out what Danielle wants. No woman that young and perfect-looking would ever date our dad.”

Bailey nodded. As harsh as it sounded, Sophie wasn’t saying anything she hadn’t already considered.

“We could introduce her to a younger man.”

“Who?” Bailey asked.

“Jeff is cute.”

“Mom’s foreman? He’s married. I don’t want to be responsible for breaking up a marriage in order to get our parents back together.”

“Yeah, that’s bad,” Sophie agreed. “Okay, who else is there? It’s got to be somebody young. I mean, Dad’s way over forty.”

“So is Mom.”

“Oh, Mom,” Sophie said miserably, flopping back onto the bed. “She knew. She was so stoic when she introduced herself to Danielle, I wanted to scream.”

Bailey had been too shocked to tear her eyes from her father. When she did look at her mother, she couldn’t bear the return of the polite frozen smile. From the moment she and Sophie had mentioned that their father would be coming for Christmas, they’d both noticed a change in her.

In the beginning, when she’d heard the news, Beth had seemed confused and a bit panicky. Over dinner the night before, she’d peppered them with questions about their father. She was interested, all right. Interested and intrigued and, after a while, Bailey had sensed a definite excitement. She’d seemed happy, and for the first time since the divorce, they’d seen a brightness in her eyes.

It was exactly the reaction Bailey and Sophie had been looking for. Over the past three years, Mom had put on a great act. To all outward appearances, she was content; she certainly claimed to be. Her new life suited her just fine, she said. What had frightened the girls into taking action was the fact that their mother had started to casually drop Ted Reynolds’s name into their conversations.

Beth’s eagerness about seeing their dad convinced both Bailey and Sophie that all this talk about contentment was false. They’d been up half the night whispering in the dark, so sure they were right—and now this.

“Have you got any ideas yet?” Sophie sounded worried.

“Where’s Mom?”

“Where she always goes when she’s upset. She’s with her dogs.”

“With her dogs,” Bailey echoed. The kennel was a place of comfort for Beth, a place of solace. The thought of her mom sitting on the ground with her precious animals gathered around her made Bailey want to weep.

“Where did Dad and Danielle go for lunch?”

“I don’t know….”

He’d invited Bailey and Sophie to join them, but of course they’d declined.

“We should’ve gone with him,” Bailey said.

“No way.” Sophie shook her head. “I am not socializing with her.”

Bailey reviewed various options that began occurring to her. Yes, it would work. She hopped onto the bed and tucked her legs underneath her.

Sophie stared at her. “What are you thinking?”

“We need to show Dad that Danielle’s completely wrong for him.”

“Well, duh. Just how are we going to do that?”

“There are ways.” Bailey gave a conspiratorial smile.

Immediately, Sophie straightened. “You think we can do it?”

“I don’t just think, I know. Watch out, Danielle. You’re in for it now.”

Four

Judge Olivia Griffin pulled into the parking lot at the Pancake Palace. She’d ordered two coconut cream pies for their Christmas Eve dinner at Justine’s. After the meal, they’d attend church services, then head over to Noelle’s birthday party. Picking up the pies was on the list of errands she needed to run before collecting Mom and Ben that evening.

The restaurant was packed, which surprised her. She hadn’t expected it to be this busy on Christmas Eve Day. But she should have, she mused, as she hunted for a parking space at the back of the lot. Based on last year’s experience, her daughter had warned her. With a firm conviction that family came first, Justine had decided to close the Tea Room for Christmas Eve as well as Christmas Day. Her staff was thrilled with the unexpected gift of this extra time off.

Inside the restaurant, Olivia stood in line at the counter waiting her turn. Wave upon wave of happy voices washed through the room. Looking around, she noticed the painted windows, decorated with a variety of holiday scenes. Holly on one window, a snowman on another. She gazed across the room and saw the Randall family in a booth with Cecilia’s father, Bobby Merrick. Holding fistfuls of crayons, the two Randall children were bent over their place mats, solving puzzles, connecting the dots or just coloring.

Remembering her conversation with Cecilia the day before, Olivia couldn’t help releasing a sigh. The young mother had asked about Jordan, Olivia’s son and Justine’s twin brother.

It seemed to Olivia that her entire life was divided by that summer. Life before Jordan died and life afterward. Her world had imploded that summer afternoon. No sooner had they buried their son than Stan, her husband, announced that he wanted a divorce. Within a matter of months, she’d lost her son and her marriage.

Watching Cecilia and Ian Randall now, sitting close together, so attuned to each other, so much in love, she didn’t regret denying their divorce. How could she? She would’ve given anything if someone had done the same for her and Stan. The pain of losing their son had been so horrific that, instead of bringing them together, it had driven a wedge between them.

When Stan remarried only months after their divorce, Olivia’s friends had speculated that he’d been involved with Marge long before Jordan’s death. It’d been easy to believe, especially then. Her mother, who was reluctant to say anything bad about anyone, felt Stan had acted irrationally in leaving his family.

Irrationally? Their son was dead. How could either of them remain rational? The grief had killed them, too.