Read Kissing Father Christmas Online

Authors: Robin Jones Gunn

Kissing Father Christmas (13 page)

BOOK: Kissing Father Christmas
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A
steady, muffled thumping sound roused me from my deep sleep.

“Yes? Who is it?” I squinted in the brightness of the morning light that was flooding into the room.

“It's me.”

The sweet and squeaky voice could only belong to one person.

“Come in, little mouse!”

Julia scampered across the wood floor in her nightgown and bare feet. “It's Christmas morning!”

“Yes, it is.” I pulled myself up into a sitting position.

Julia had a Christmas stocking in her hand and a delighted smile on her face. “What did you get in your stocking?”

“I don't know. I haven't checked yet.”

Julia went to the post at the foot of my bed where a stocking was waiting for me as well. I'd noticed it the night before when I went to bed but didn't check it for goodies. Julia handed me my stocking and I patted the comforter, indicating that she should come sit with me.

She climbed up on the tall bed and poured out the contents of her stocking and then my stocking's loot a few inches away. With her arm she marked a crease in the comforter between the two piles as if to ensure that we wouldn't get our goodies mixed up.

“You got a Lion Bar, too! Look! We both got one. Lion Bars are my favorite. We can eat them now. Do you want to eat yours now?”

“Before breakfast?”

“Of course, silly. It's Christmas! We always eat what's in our stockings before breakfast. Markie already ate his. I saved mine so I could eat it with you.” She bit into the prized candy bar and looked prim as a princess, sitting cross-legged on the end of my bed. Her hair had gone fuzzy and her closed lips turned up in a grin as she chewed merrily.

I followed her lead and bit into my crumbly candy bar. I looked around the lovely guest room and reminded my bruised little heart that this was the day I was letting go. I'd do so privately and quietly. Prudence would be proud of my decorum.

About an hour later, after I'd taken a little extra time getting ready for the day, I joined the Whitcombes in the drawing room around the Christmas tree.

Ellie had tea and toast for us and said we'd have a small feast before noon so why spoil it with a heavy breakfast?

“When Margaret lived here,” Ellie told me in a low voice, “I never would have gotten away with breaking the tradition of a formal Christmas dinner. She was keen on everyone sitting around the table. I am, too. It's just easier for me to serve quiche with sausages and pastries instead of making a ham with all the trimmings along with the Christmas pudding.”

“But we still have Christmas crackers,” Julia chimed in. She'd been tuned into what Ellie was saying even though she was across the room with a wrapped gift in her lap, patiently waiting for a full audience before opening it.

I remembered Julia explaining to me what Christmas crackers were when Julia pointed them out at Harrods and Ellie said they already had ones for this year at home. They were small paper tubes that were gift wrapped with twists at the ends. Julia had described to me the way they snapped when each end was pulled at the dinner table and a small gift would float out.

I was glad they had kept that tradition. I was curious to see how it played out. The predominant Christmas tradition with my parents was the Swedish bread, the
yule kaka
. I tried to calculate the time and wondered what my parents were doing right then.

What will my mother say when I return home and tell her I can't return here in the spring? What will Ellie say when I tell her?

I brushed aside the discomforting thoughts and sat in an open chair beside the Christmas tree and waited for Julia to open her gift from me. The winter sunlight was making an effort to come through the clouds and filter in through the window behind the tree. Every time it broke through I could feel a bit of warmth.

Julia recognized the purple notebook immediately and squealed when she looked inside to see the drawings of Princess Julia.

“You can color the pictures any color you want,” I said. “Except the pink macaroons on page three. You must color those pink.”

Julia came over and threw her arms around me with an appreciative hug. “Thank you, Anna. I really love this. Look, Daddy. It's a book about Princess Julia. That's me!”

I sipped my cup of tea and gazed out the window. I wondered if it would work for me to take a lot of photos of the manor before I left. If I took enough, from enough different angles, I might be able to do some nice drawings for Ellie. I wouldn't have to return in the spring but I could still keep my word and deliver the much-anticipated sketches.

“We've all opened our gifts from you,” Ellie said. “So kind of you. I love the apron. It's perfect.”

“Here, Anna.” Julia handed me a beautifully wrapped gift. “This one is for you.”

“Thank you.” I put aside the thoughts about taking lots of photos. I knew I could talk it all through with Ellie later. My alternative plan shouldn't be announced on Christmas Day.

The gift was a beautiful blue-and-white scarf. Julia announced that she helped her mother pick it out for me. For someone who dressed in her own quirky, eclectic way, Ellie certainly had accurate taste when it came to selecting gifts for others. I put the scarf around my neck and watched Mark open a gift from his parents. I noticed the wrapped-up book I'd created for Molly was still under the tree, right where I'd put it the day before.

I decided to nonchalantly remove the book and not leave it under the tree. It seemed best to take it home with me. I could always mail it to her for her birthday or simply leave it in the box under my bed along with the other two copies. Miranda was the only one who knew about it. If I asked, I felt confident that she wouldn't say anything.

With the wrapped book in my hand, I made an excuse about needing to go upstairs for something. As soon as I stepped into the entry hall, the chimes sounded for the front door.

“Anna?” Ellie called from the drawing room. “Are you still there? Would you mind answering the door for us?”

“Sure,” I called back. I pulled open the heavy wooden door and saw Peter standing under the arched entry in the alcove.

“Happy Christmas,” he and his family said. When Peter saw that it was me, he quickly lowered his gaze.

I was at a loss for words because after last night, I didn't think Peter would show up this morning. And if he didn't come, I had wondered if his family would still come.

But they were here, with a tray of appetizers and several gift bags in hand with lots of white tissue paper sticking out the top.

Peter's parents stood behind him, waiting to be invited to come in. Molly stood next to Peter, holding his hand. She was wearing brand-new, shiny Christmas shoes and they were red!

“I hope we didn't come too early,” Peter's mom said.

“No, your timing is just right. Please. Come in. Edward and Ellie are in by the Christmas tree with the children.” I nodded my hello to Peter's mother and father.

Molly entered, looking up at me as if she was trying to figure out who I was and what I was doing at the Whitcombes' home.

I leaned over and smiled at her. “Hello, Molly. I'm Anna. I like your shoes very much.”

“I have red shoes.” She held up a foot to show me.

“Yes, you do. They are beautiful red Christmas shoes.”

Molly saw the gift I was still holding and must have recognized her name that was written in large letters on the gift tag.

She looked up at me and excitedly asked, “Is that present for me?”

I hesitated for a moment. I could feel Peter looking at me. Molly's eyes were fixed on the present.

“Yes.” I handed it to her. “Yes, this is for you. Merry Christmas.”

She threw her arms around my neck and hugged me. “Thank you.”

“You are very welcome.” I bit my lower lip. I didn't know if I'd done the right thing by giving it to her. But it was the red shoes that got to me. I knew she would be elated when she opened the book and saw that Molly the little lamb also had red shoes.

I let my gaze slide over to Peter, who was taking the book from Molly and adding it to the other gifts in his hands. “We'll open this later, all right, Molly?”

“I want to open it now.”

“I know.” He patiently and firmly held on to the gift. “After we sit by the Christmas tree with the others, we'll all open our gifts, okay?”

Molly released her grip on the book when she saw Julia coming into the entry hall with the purple coloring book. “Molly, look what I got. We can color it together. It's a Julia the Princess coloring book that Anna made for me.”

“I have red shoes.” Molly held out her foot to show Julia.

“Those are beautiful,” Julia said appreciatively. “I've never seen such beautiful red shoes in all my life.”

Molly grinned. “They are red.”

“I see.” Julia took Molly by the hand. “Do you want to color with me? All my special colored pencils are up in my room. Come on. Let's go.”

The two girls made a cute but humorous team, trying to charge up the stairs while holding hands. Molly wanted to stop on each stair and look down to admire her shoes.

Peter had slid past me. He took the tray of appetizers from his mother and headed for the kitchen. He still hadn't made eye contact with me. I took that to mean that this was the way it was going to be. Today we would have to move about in the same circles, share in the same conversations, dine at the same table but he and I would not be friends. I felt the same anger return that had sizzled in me in the car last night.

Even complete strangers look at each other in an encounter like this. I didn't expect you to kiss me, but come on, Peter. If you're going to show up here, you can at least look at me.

The door chimes sounded again. This time it was the MacGregor clan waiting on the doorstep. Katharine had a large basket of food slung over her arm and Andrew carried in a stack of wrapped gifts. Miranda had an equal amount of gifts and food. Ian toted the largest open box of all. It appeared to be brimming with more food.

“We didn't want to run the risk of any of us succumbing to malnutrition on this happy day,” Ian said.

I laughed. As flustered as I'd felt around Peter, I now felt back at home with “my people” as Miranda had called them. It was going to be a happy Christmas no matter what. I was determined to do my part to make it so.

O
nce the formidable MacGregor clan was inside, they made themselves at home, dropping off food in the kitchen and gifts in the drawing room before gathering by the fire with the rest of the guests. I followed Miranda into the drawing room and stood back as she slid several wrapped gifts under the tree.

Peter's parents were seated on the love seat, in a formal, nice posture. Ian and his parents had taken the sofa and Edward and Ellie were seated near the fire. Peter was standing by the hearth, the way Ian had when he'd made the announcement about their upcoming secret blessing.

“I wonder if I might say something.” Peter cleared his throat.

Miranda and I were standing beside the tree. I glanced around the room, trying to gauge everyone's expression to get a hint as to what was going on.

Peter looked over at me for the first time that day and made eye contact. I felt a fluttering sensation in my heart.

“I want to say something important to all of you. I had a long conversation with my parents last night.” Peter nodded to his parents as if giving them a final chance to stop him.

Neither of them said anything. I thought his mother looked as if she might cry.

“The thing is, the time has come for me to make some changes in my life. They're overdue. Long overdue. I didn't sleep much last night. I have been wrestling with a number of issues.”

Peter nodded at his mother again. “As a wise woman told me, ‘A heart at peace gives life to the body.' My heart has not been at peace for some time.”

Miranda inched closer to me and gave my arm a squeeze.

“I've come to the conclusion that in order for me to have that peace, I need to tell all of you the truth. The thing is, you see, is…well, it's Molly.”

I held my breath.

“You have all known Molly as my sister. The truth is, in fact, that she's my daughter.” He paused as if waiting for the room to draw in a collective gasp.

No one flinched. Katharine exuded her naturally placid expression as if she'd figured that out long ago. Andrew let his lower lip jut out slightly and then gave a nod. A few pieces seemed to fall into place for him upon receipt of that information.

None of the Whitcombes seemed startled in the least. They'd been a family that had weathered enough shock of family secrets when Miranda showed up. They had nothing but grace and understanding for anyone who was trying to set things right. Grace and peace did reside under this roof.

Peter's mother was crying. His father looked concerned.

Peter rolled his shoulders back and kept going. “You see, when Molly was born, we thought it best to deal with things the way we did for a number of reasons. I'd be glad to share those reasons with any of you if you're curious about the details. My point in bringing all this to light now is that I decided last night that I need to live my life openly, without this secret being the weight that continually pulls me down. Molly doesn't pull me down, understand. It's the cover-up that has weighed on me all these years. It's robbed me of my peace.”

Peter looked to me with a clear-eyed expression of relief. I smiled at him. He seemed to have the look of the actor who played Scrooge. When Scrooge awoke to the sounding of the bells on Christmas morning, he was radiant and energized with freedom and great hope for the future.

Peter must have faced the Spirit of Christmas Yet to Come with his parents last night and when he woke this morning, he was a changed man.

Your soul felt its worth, didn't it? You don't have to stay in that cocoon of secrecy anymore, Peter.

His expression seemed to cloud over slightly. “It's been quite difficult for my parents, as you might imagine, for many reasons.”

I immediately thought of what Miranda had told me about how Edward's mother, Margaret, had chosen to move in with her daughter rather than stay in Carlton Heath with Miranda once Sir James's secret had been revealed. I hoped Peter's family would stay right where they were.

“That is part of the reason why I wanted to share this with all of you today. You are our closest friends. I'm hoping you will have the right words of comfort for them.”

Katharine was the first to lean in and offer her calming words.

Peter stepped over to me and said, “May I speak with you in the hallway?” He nearly tripped over a wrapped gift under the tree. When he looked down, he saw that it was the gift I'd handed to Molly at the door.

Peter reached down and picked it up and for some reason carried it with him to the entryway.

He motioned that we could sit on the stairs. We sat next to each other on the second stair, neither of us speaking for a moment.

In just the last three minutes my mind had been filling up with hope-infused wishes the way a great balloon fills with air before it's ready to be released into the heavens. If everything had been made right for Peter during the night, he must have reevaluated his conclusions about us.

I wanted to hear what he had to say but he was locked in on the gift.

“When did you get this for Molly?”

“I didn't get it for her, exactly.”

“What do you mean? Isn't this from you?”

“Yes, but, well, you'll see when you open it.”

“Do you want me to open it?”

“It's up to you. If you want, I can rewrap it so that Molly can have the fun of unwrapping it.”

Peter didn't hesitate. He pulled back the paper and held the book and stared at the cover. For a moment he didn't move. He turned to me slowly with tears in his eyes. “Did you do this?”

I nodded.

“When? When did you do this?”

I told him the whole story behind the book as he turned the pages and absorbed each image. He had just turned to the last page when Julia and Molly came scurrying down the stairs.

“Molly, come here,” Peter said. “Have a look at this book that Anna has made for you.”

Julia stopped on the fifth stair and took Molly's hand. “Did you hear that? Anna made a coloring book for you, too?”

“This one has the pictures already colored,” Peter said. “Come, Molly. I want to show you your new book.”

I got up so that Molly could situate herself next to Peter. Julia sat a step higher and looked over Peter's shoulders.

“She has red shoes!” Molly excitedly pointed to the lamb on the cover.

My folded hands rose as I watched the tender scene unfolding on the grand staircase. I pressed my thumbs against my lips and I tried to keep my delight from leaking out. Julia and Molly sat perfectly still, quietly captivated as Peter read the storybook to them.

Miranda had left the drawing room. She slipped over closer and stood beside me. “They love it,” she whispered. “Look at Molly's face.”

Peter got to the last page and Molly said, “Read it again.”

He looked up at me with glistening eyes and gave me a smile that expressed all the thanks I needed.

Miranda squeezed my elbow and whispered, “Ellie thinks it would be good if we could put out all the food in the dining room now. It's a little tense in the drawing room.”

“I'll come and help.” As soon as we were in the kitchen, Miranda stopped me and said, “Well?”

“Well, what?”

“What did he say to you?”

“He asked when I wrote the book and I told him. Then he read it to the children. He likes it. I know he likes it.”

“No, I mean what did he say about you coming back in the spring? You hinted at something last night at Rose Cottage. I got the feeling that the tense conversation you had with Peter was about your coming back.”

“He told me about Molly last night. He said it wouldn't be fair to invite someone like me into his life.”

“What did you tell him?”

“I told him that grace isn't fair. Neither is love.”

Miranda wrapped her arms around me and gave me a warm, sisterly hug. “I want you to move here, Anna. I want you to live here always.”

“Me, too,” I whispered, fully aware of what it would mean if such a wish came true.

Miranda pulled back and looked at me. She was beaming. “I'm not the only one who feels that way…” She patted her middle and then stopped as the kitchen door swung open.

BOOK: Kissing Father Christmas
4.88Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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