A Snowglobe Christmas: Yuletide Homecoming / A Family's Christmas Wish

“That’s not true. He left. He said he wasn’t coming back. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Her mother pretended to rearrange a lighted ceramic village behind the cash register. “If I recall—and I do—you forbade me to ever speak his name again. You said the relationship was done and over with and you wanted to move on. And you did.”

“You should have told me anyway,” Amy answered, feeling unreasonable and petulant.

“Would you have come home? Would you have agreed to take over the shop?”

“No, I wouldn’t have. I don’t want to be constantly reminded of how he humiliated me. It’s hard enough to come back to Snowglobe knowing that everyone in town pitied poor little Amy Caldwell when Rafe broke off our engagement to join the military.”

“Oh, precious girl.” Her mom repositioned a jingling reindeer before taking Amy by the shoulders. “That was a long time ago. You’ve enjoyed a nice career, friends, dates, travel. If you’d married so young, look at what you would have missed. I thought you’d forgiven and forgotten all about Rafe Westfield.”

“I said I’ve forgiven him. I’ll never forget. How could I? We were engaged. I’d picked out a dress!”

She’d loved him so much she thought she’d die when he chose the marines over her. Yet, he had, and there was no changing the past. After six months of feeling sorry for herself and dealing with the pitying stares, she’d taken the job in Spokane. She’d found a good church, made friends, had a great life.

So why was she letting Rafe get to her now?

The internal question shook her. Why indeed? Rafe Westfield was nothing but a bad memory.

The tiny bell over the shop door jingled and two customers entered. Her mother moved into action, leaving Amy to wander through the beautiful Christmas displays. Maybe the sights and smells would calm her stress and bring back the excitement of being home.

She shucked her jacket, leaving the bright turquoise scarf to dangle over her long black sweater.

She didn’t understand why she was so upset. She was completely over Rafe. He was old news. It wasn’t like she hadn’t had a boyfriend in the past five years. She had and yet, the old hurt had flown in her face like an out of control downhiller.

She rounded the corner of the greeting card display and heard someone say, “Amy? Is that you? I heard you were coming home for Christmas.”

“Katie?” Amy’s mood rose at the sight of her bouncy blonde friend from high school. With a squeal, the two women exchanged a brief hug. “It’s so good to see you. What are you doing?”

“Trying to find the perfect birthday card for Todd.” Katie had married a local boy right out of high school. “I’m having a little Christmas-style birthday party in his honor on Saturday. Why don’t you come? It’ll be a great way to see old friends again.”

“I’d love to! Are you sure it’s okay? I don’t want to be a fifth wheel.”

Katie made a noise in the back of her throat. “Stop. This is Snowglobe. No one is a fifth wheel here. Bring a little gift for the gift exchange if you want. It’ll be fun.”

“Are you playing Dirty Santa?”

Katie fingered a particularly pretty birthday card before putting it back on the shelf and selecting one with a grinning mule on the front. “We play Nice Santa, sort of. All the gifts are decent, but some are great. No one loses, but it’s lots of fun to see the guys in a friendly fight over a new snowboard and the girls bartering for a gift certificate to Molly’s Massage.”

“Mmm. Molly’s Massage.” Amy rotated her shoulders, tight after the unexpected confrontation with Rafe. “Sounds wonderful. I’m in.”

“Last year I ended up with a set of deer antler salt and pepper shakers.” Katie laughed. “Todd thought they were so cool!”

Amy laughed, too, feeling much better after reconnecting with her old friend. When Katie left, a steady stream of customers entered the shop, most of them people Amy knew, though a few tourists had already begun to gather for the annual Christmas ski race. Vacationers usually rented cabins and lodges in the countryside or stayed at the Snowglobe Bed-and-Breakfast, eager to catch the spirit of a small-town Christmas in the snowy Rockies.

Amy fell into the familiar rhythm of working the store, aware that business was brisk. But no matter how busy they were, she kept picturing her handsome, rugged ex-fiancé leaning against the glass counter.

During a lull, her mother said, “There’s mulled cider in the urn. Let’s grab a cup while we can.”

“Got any cookies to go with it?”

“Gingerbread from Porter’s Bakery. Becka made it fresh this morning.”

“Oh, yum.” They headed to the back corner of the store where a silver urn brewed something year-round according to the season. For Christmas, the small table was draped with green linen brightened by red napkins and Spode Christmas tree China. The centered urn emitted the warm, cozy smell of spiced cider, and beneath a glass cake stand sugar-sprinkled slices of gingerbread tempted the shopper to linger. In the background, a recorded harpist strummed “White Christmas.”

Dana Caldwell was a master at presentation.

“Aren’t you glad you’re home?” her mother asked, handing her a steaming mug complete with cinnamon stick.

“I am, Mom. Really,” she said when Dana pressed her lips together in the mother’s sign of concern.

“Goodness. After your reaction to Rafe, I was afraid you might back out on me. I can’t wait to turn this shop over to you and kick up my heels a little.”

“Mom? Kick up your heels?”

A rosy flush darkened her mother’s cheeks. “I don’t mean go wild, but I would like to travel and do some things while I’m still healthy and young enough.”

Amy lifted the steaming mug to her lips and sipped, thinking. As a child, she’d never considered her mother as anyone but a mom and shopkeeper. Now, as an adult, she was a little taken aback to realize her mom might want something more, something for herself.

“I guess running the shop tied you down.”

“Don’t think I’m complaining. I love this shop. God provided a way for me to raise my daughter and make a living without shortchanging either, and working with beautiful things is right up my alley. But now, you need this place. And I don’t. I’m so glad you’re here to take over, and I pray this shop is as wonderful to you as it has been to me.”

“You’re incredible, you know that?” Wasn’t it sad that she’d waited twenty-eight years to realize such a thing?

With a smile, her mother fluttered a hand. “You weren’t thinking that a few minutes ago when Rafe was here.”

“Not true. I’ve always known I have an exceptional mother.” She stirred the cinnamon stick around in the mug. “Rafe was the past. I can’t let his presence ruin this homecoming.”

Dana took two thick slices of gingerbread and slid them onto China saucers. “That’s my girl. No looking back.”

Exactly. She hoped.

As they settled into the dainty chairs with their snacks, Amy turned her thoughts from herself to her mother. After Amy’s father had left, Dana Caldwell had thrown herself into the store without complaint, making it better than ever. She must have been devastated by Dad’s betrayal, but Amy had been too young and heartbroken to consider anyone else’s feelings. Now she saw things in a different light. Like King David in the Bible, her mom had grieved the loss. Then she’d wiped her tears, set her eyes on the future and moved on, never looking back at what she could not change.

Was that what God expected her to do? Even with Rafe living in the same town?

She took a nibble of the spiced bread, thinking about how she had changed in the past five years. She’d grown up, grown closer to the Lord. She’d been so ready to come home and take over the shop. She couldn’t let her mother down.

But she hadn’t reckoned on Rafe.

Chapter Two

By closing time, Amy was in the swing of things at the gift shop. She’d made sales, wrapped gifts with shiny foiled papers and voluminous colored ribbons, unpacked the new stock of handcrafted glass ornaments and delivered flowers to New Life Church.

At the latter, she’d enjoyed a chat with Pastor Jacobson and allowed herself, with little effort, to be persuaded to help with the charity food basket preparation and delivery.

“I’ve always loved doing the Blessing Baskets,” she’d told her mother when she’d returned to the shop.