Merry's Christmas: A Love Story (11 page)

“No need,” Tara sighed dejectedly. “She
won’t even miss me.”

When Merry dropped by the study to get
her coat that evening, she found Daniel at his desk, taking care of the family
bills. She popped her head in cheerily. “Knock, knock.”

Daniel motioned Merry in, a welcoming
expression on his face. “So, Tara brought me into the loop about the attic.”

“And you’re okay with it?”

Daniel nodded approvingly. “I like it
that you think outside the ordinary Christmas box.”

Merry ventured into the room. “Speaking
of ‘out there’ gift ideas—for your mom, along those lines... What about an
invitation to live here?”

Daniel sat back. “Where here? It’s not
like I have any more attics.”

Merry moved closer. “Well, she said you
don’t use this office much. And there’s plenty of space in the master suite for
your desk.”

Daniel smiled pleasantly. “So, you’ve
been exploring, haven’t you?”

Merry blushed a little. “You said to
listen for hints, which have pretty much been flying like snowballs.”

“She said she wants to move in here?”

“Not in so many words,” Merry explained.
“But...sometimes you can tell what’s inside a package without opening it.”

Daniel studied Merry for a moment. “Yes,
you seem to have a talent for that. But I was thinking she might like a nice
sweater, maybe a coat. Or a sweater coat. That would be good.”

Though everything inside Merry screamed
that his idea wasn’t the best, she was careful not to overstep. “Good. I’ll
pick something out. But, I’m sure she’d love it if we could work the room out,
too. That is, only if you want that.”

Daniel put his checkbook aside, weighing
the notion fondly. “There you go,” he said. “Once again, you’re as wily as
Amanda. When we bought this house, I’ll admit I deliberately put this desk
here, staked out the territory so that—”

“—So she wouldn’t feel staked out,” Merry
finished.

The look on Daniel’s face said it all.
Merry knew immediately that she had dug down to the truth, a truth Daniel hid,
even from himself.

“I adore my mother,” he confided. “The
kids love her to pieces. But down the block is close enough, all things
considered.”

Merry drifted by Daniel’s desk. “Funny
thing is, if I had a mom as great as yours, I don’t think I could keep her
close enough.”

Daniel shook his head, resisting. “But,
given where I’m heading with things, the truth is...”

Daniel motioned Merry closer. When she
stepped just to the side of his desk, he lowered his voice to a confidential
tone. “If and when another woman moves into this house,” Daniel said, “I’ve
been looking for the kind of woman that...” Again, he paused. “The truth is, I
was hoping that she’d be my wife.”

No more words passed between them that
night. Daniel simply punctuated his point with a smile that said he had a
specific woman in mind.

Though she thought she’d burst with joy,
Merry held her composure, wanting to allow Daniel to take things at his own
pace. In the past, she’d made the mistake of gulping too soon. This time, she
resolved, she would sip and savor what was developing between them, every
delicious step of the way.

Merry nodded to Daniel that she
understood, an effervescent sparkle in her eyes. With a simple wave goodbye,
she slipped out for the evening, wondering if there’d be a way in the world
that she’d sleep a single wink that night.

eight

M
erry
navigated the Bell’s upstairs hallway, her arms overloaded with Christmas boxes
from the attic. Indeed, it was a precarious pile, but she’d picked it up with a
special purpose. As she passed the twins’ bedroom, Merry peered in at Hayden
who sat, staring blankly at her computer screen. “Think you could give me a
hand?”

Hayden pushed her laptop away in
frustration. “I guess,” she sighed, “now that I’ve made so much progress on my
sonnet.”

Outwardly, Merry made nothing of it as
Hayden came to her aid, but inside, Merry celebrated. Her idea had worked. It
was only a foot in the door with Hayden, but Merry knew it was a start.

Downstairs, Merry sorted through the tiny
houses and storefronts of a miniature village as Hayden pulled out pieces of a
model train set. Merry didn’t mention it, but she presumed that every piece of
that railway represented a memory, a connection to Christmases long ago. All of
those memories had been good, she supposed, all except the very last one.

“Looks like I’m not the only one that’s
been living under the tracks,” Merry quipped.

“Yeah, this is all Dad’s,” Hayden
replied. “Mom started it for him. First the engine, couple of cars. Never did
get a caboose.”

Merry nodded softly, steeling herself to
take the plunge. “Is it okay if I ask you something?”

Hayden grimaced wryly. “Just don’t go all
Barbara Walters on me.”

Merry snapped two track pieces together.
“What was your mom like?”

Hayden shrugged. The subtlest sort of
smiles crossed her face. “She was...kind of corny but cool, about Christmas and
Valentines and birthdays and pretty much any other excuse to do her whole
uber-mom thing. Freakish you should ask about her because it’s sort of taboo
here.”

“You know, you’re really pretty when you
smile like that,” Merry observed.

“I’m not smiling,” Hayden replied.

“Not now. But you were.”

Hayden quickly dropped back to a smirk.
“Promise not to hold it against me.”

Merry nodded. “Promise. But I think the
moratorium on enjoying Christmas ran out a while ago. You could always ease
your way back into it. Don’t want to crack anything. Start with a warm-fuzzy,
barely there,” Merry playfully demonstrated as she spoke. “Then, a sort of
botoxed upper lip smile.”

Hayden bit her lip, but Merry still spotted
it.

“Busted!” Merry teased. “You’re such a
little cheater!”

Losing the battle, Hayden clamped her
lips with her fingers.

Merry pointed at Hayden with glee. “Flag
on the play! No lip biting or finger clamping!”

Despite Hayden’s concerted efforts to prevent
it, a grin popped out.

“Ring-a-ling! Somebody get a camera!”
Merry exuded.

“Cut it out!” Hayden protested. “You’re
as bad as mom!”

Merry tipped her head a little. “Well,
thanks, Hayden. That was a very nice thing to say.”

“Yeah, well you... She...” Tears sprang
to Hayden’s eyes.

Immediately, Merry’s heart went out to
her. She put a hand on her arm. “Oh, Hayden. I’m sorry.”

Hayden quickly shook Merry’s hand off.
“Forget it, all right?”

“You know it’s okay to—”

“No, it’s not okay,” Hayden broke in, her
emotions clearly rising. “I hate this. All of it! All it does is remind me what
I can’t ever have again. You know what I want for Christmas? I want my mom
back. Can you get me that?”

Merry held Hayden’s demanding gaze.
“Sweetie, I wish I could.”

Hayden jerked away. “And don’t call me
that!” she cried. “That’s what she called me. Nobody calls me that.”

“Maybe they should,” Merry persisted.
“Maybe she’d want them to. Like she’d want to know you found a way, well, not
to forget her, but to enjoy the life she gave you.”

Hayden wiped her face. It was a long
while before she finally spoke. “I don’t know how to do that.”

Tears brimmed in Merry’s eyes as she
searched Hayden’s. “I just know, every day you had with your mom—every time you
get another day with your dad, your sister, Ollie, your grandmom—it’s a
incredible gift. I don’t know much, Hayden. But I know that.”

Hayden sat silently, irony playing on her
face. “Funny that you’d mention gifts. I know exactly what to give Tara for
Christmas. It’s just really hard to give it. I don’t know if I can.”

Merry nodded thoughtfully. “You know, I
always thought that the gifts that are hardest to give, well...they can be the
best gifts of all.”

Christmas music wafted from an
old-fashioned turntable, filling the Bell’s garage. Familiar tunes from a
by-gone era scratched out, sung by crooners of long ago holidays, the kind that
set a person swaying, no matter the task they accompanied.

Ollie helped Merry stow attic overflow in
the unoccupied half of the garage. Ollie was a good helper, Merry observed.
He’d taken to her from the start, something she dearly appreciated. He needed a
mother as much as Hayden did, she realized. He just showed it in different
ways.

Ollie’s face lit up as the garage door
began to open and Daniel’s headlights shone into the garage. “Daddy’s home!”
Ollie exuded. Ollie ran to greet his dad as the car idled outside.

Merry hustled to move a few items aside.
“Just a sec. I’ll get this out of your way. Sorry. I had thought you’d park out
front.”

Daniel pulled into his parking space in
the garage. “Well, the forecast says we might get some snow, so...
 
What’s all this?” he wondered, turning his
car off.

Merry glanced around. “Attic overflow.”

“Don’t tell Hayden,” Ollie added
urgently.

“Right,” Daniel agreed. “Hey, Buddy, why
don’t you go wash up for dinner. I’ll get this.”

Obediently, Ollie ran toward the
townhouse. Daniel began to help Merry stow things they haven’t used in years—a
cradle, the twins’ double stroller, Ollie’s tricycle.

“That was my dad’s old turntable over
there,” Daniel recalled. “Obsolete now, I guess. Amazing that it still works.
Looks like we’re way overdue for a purge.”

Merry looked around, imagining the long
ago time when these things had been in regular use. “Everything here has a
place in your family story, I’m sure.”

Daniel nodded nostalgically. “Really
does. Christmas used to be a big day around here.”

“I can tell,” Merry said. “It can be
again, you know.”

Daniel hoisted a box. “Sure hope so.”

Merry helped Daniel to slide the container
in place. “Yeah. Me, too,” she replied. Suddenly, an idea struck. “You know
what?” she said. “Close your eyes. Go on, close them.”

Going along with it, Daniel closed his
eyes. Merry quickly plugged in an electrical cord, then lightly took Daniel by
the hand and led him out of the garage. She loved the way he trusted her as she
guided him all the way into the back yard, his eyes still shut tight. Classic
Christmas music from the open garage wafted across the night air.

“Not yet. No peeking,” Merry reminded.

As they passed the kitchen window, Merry
noticed Ollie and Tara, watching from inside. Merry put a finger to her lips,
signaling them about the secret she was preparing to unfold. Tara broke into a
victorious grin. Ollie playfully poked her.

Reaching the patio, Merry led Daniel to a
stopping place.

“Now?” Daniel asked.

Merry released his hand. “Now.”

Daniel opened his eyes. The yard was
aglow with twinkle lights. Strings of lights hung on fence rails, shrubs and
trees, shimmering all around them. Daniel took it all in, then looked back at
Merry, completely amazed.

Merry smiled softly. “Starting to feel
like Christmas, now, isn’t it?”

Daniel nodded. “It is.”

“Sure you don’t want to take me up on
that dancing lesson?” Merry offered.

Daniel paused. “I confess...I’m still
back and forth about what to do for Catherine. I’m not sure if the Ball is
really the right thing.”

Merry weighed her options. It wasn’t she
wanted Daniel to opt to take Catherine to the Charity Ball, but something in
her had to know for sure. “You know, if you got more comfy with the dancing
part, you could set that aside,” Merry suggested. “Might help you to see the
rest of the decision more clearly.”

Merry offered her right hand to Daniel.
Warily, he took it. “Then you pull your partner close, so you can feel how
she’s moving,” Merry instructed.