Love Finds You on Christmas Morning (33 page)

But when they got to her car, he said, “Let me drive. Is that all right? You sit in the back and let him rest his head in your lap. Do you mind?”

“Of course not.” She scooted into the back. Drew leaned in, draped Freddie across the backseat, and gently rested the dog’s head in her lap. He glanced into Nikki’s eyes before he pulled back out of the car, and for a moment she felt their old connection return, with something more. They shared an unspoken but understood goal.

The combination of fear for Freddie and sadness over whatever she had lost with Drew brought a tightness to her chest that she struggled to breathe away. That little glimmer of hope or love or whatever she had seen in Drew’s eyes had vanished as quickly as it had appeared.

She saw him open his phone and place a call before he pulled away from the curb. There wasn’t a bit of panic in his voice as he spoke with the vet’s receptionist and then the vet himself about the snakebite.

For her part, she kept watch on Freddie. He had closed his eyes, and his breathing was fairly shallow. He was such a sweetheart, and she pictured his making his way to the front door of the house, maybe aware he needed help but not creating a fuss at all. So unlike his usual lively, often intrusive self.

She gently stroked his head and ran her hand across the length of his body, murmuring to him in a soft voice.

“That’s a good boy, Freddie. We’re going to fix you right up. You hang in there, sweetie.”

Until one of her tears dropped onto his coat, she hadn’t realized she had started crying again. She swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. When she glanced up front, Drew had finished his call.

Her eyes went directly to the rearview mirror. He was watching her, his own tears barely glistening enough to see.

By the time they reached the vet’s office, Freddie’s breathing was labored. Drew quickly reached into the back to retrieve him.

Nikki couldn’t help the panic in her voice. “Hurry, Drew. I think his throat’s closing up.”

She heard a little groan of panic as Drew backed swiftly out of the backseat with Freddie in his arms. He banged his head on the car door jamb before he was able to turn and run to the office door. Nikki slammed the car door shut, ran past Drew, and opened the next door for him.

The staff was ready for them, waiting, when they walked in. They rushed Freddie into one of the small back rooms, and the vet and several assistants went to work.

“You have that antivenin ready, Terri?” The doctor probed Freddie’s neck as he spoke.

One of his assistants held up a syringe. “Ready.”

The vet shot a look at Drew and Nikki. “I hate to make you leave, folks, but you’re in the way. You’re going to have to wait out front.”

“But…” Drew stood there, his eyes riveted on Freddie. He looked like a ten-year-old kid. Nikki reached up and gently embraced him from behind.

“Come on, babe, we want them to be able to work quickly.”

He turned and looked at her with a helpless, sad cast to his eyes and allowed her to pull him out of the room.

They sat together on a love seat in the waiting room, and Drew leaned forward to rest his head in his hands.

Despite his being so much bigger, Nikki reached her arm across his broad back and moved close to him. She closed her eyes and spoke softly.

“Precious Lord, we thank You for being so loving and gracious toward us. We thank You for sweet Freddie. And we ask that You help the doctor to make him well. We trust You to support Freddie’s life with the power of Your loving hands.”

“Amen,” Drew answered. And with a rush of emotion and excitement, Nikki felt his warm, strong hand cover hers and give it a gentle, grateful squeeze.

A dusting of snow covered the yard in front of the Tronnier home on Christmas morning. Nikki took a moment, once she got out of her car, to appreciate the house in its renewed glory. Drew had mounted a beautiful wreath on the front door. Prospective buyers would like that touch.

Her plans for the day included a cozy family brunch and the opening of gifts at her parents’ home in a few hours. Hannah would bring her latest boyfriend, Ronaldo, who was unable to take time to travel to his hometown in Sintra, Portugal, to be with his own family.

Drew would come too. His parents’ plans had worked out nicely for Nikki.

“This last heart attack really woke Dad up about his priorities,” Drew told her this past week. “They want to get in some of the travel they’ve always
talked
about doing, and they’re starting with a winter cruise in the Caribbean.”

So Drew didn’t have to leave to spend Christmas in San Diego. And he hadn’t said anything else about moving out there to live closer to them. After what happened at the vet’s, Nikki and Drew had naturally been drawn back into their mutual trust and need for each other’s company.

Drew’s parents scheduled a stop in Cary and asked that he and Nikki come have Christmas dinner with them at their hotel.

As she studied the front porch of the Tronnier home, Nikki felt a little sad about the idea of having Christmas dinner at a hotel. This would be Drew’s only Christmas as owner of Grampa William and Granny Lillian’s beautiful home, and Nikki knew how memorable the holiday could be when celebrated there with family.

And this time she had talked with him about it, regardless of any annoyance she might cause. She had learned her lesson about holding back information, her thoughts, or her feelings.

“A hotel is so…cold,” she had said about the evening’s plans. “Don’t you want to get at least a
little
bit of enjoyment out of your house before it sells?”

He chuckled. “Nikki, it might be beautiful and new inside, but it’s also empty. I’m not about to move furniture in just for a few days’ use. I love your idea, but I want us to be comfortable. So Christmas evening at the hotel it is.”

She had given in. Nothing was going to spoil her mood, regardless of the hotel idea. Just the fact that Drew wanted to meet her here at the house to exchange their gifts in private was a thrill for her. It would be somewhat bittersweet, saying hello and good-bye to Christmas at the Tronnier home at the same time.

But the romance in Drew’s gesture was unmistakable. And that was all she cared about now: Drew. And the fact that he seemed to want to repair and rebuild their relationship. In that they were agreed. They shared a common goal, as they had when Freddie needed rescue. As they had in bringing the Tronnier home back to life—without realizing it at first.

The front door opened, and he stood there with a smile on his face. “You going to stand out there all morning?”

She tucked his gift under her arm—just a sweater, a book, and a couple of CDs he wanted—and sauntered up the walk toward him. She sighed at the sight of him, tall and handsome, dressed in his jeans and a rich burgundy V-neck. The winter sun highlighted the sheen in his dark hair and the color of his forest-green eyes.

“The wreath looks beautiful, Drew. Merry Christmas.”

Freddie suddenly appeared at Drew’s side, looking more energetic than she had seen him since their close call at the vet’s.

In her dogs-and-small-children voice, Nikki said, “Freddie! Merry Christmas, Freddie!”

But before she could get close enough to touch the dog, Drew pulled her into his arms. They hadn’t even stepped inside, but he wrapped his arms around her and leaned in to give her the one thing she’d hoped for this Christmas. A long, warm, totally-committed-to-her kind of kiss. All question of whether he had forgiven her was fully answered by the time he released her and said, “Okay.
Now
you can hug the dog.”

She played up the sweet dopiness in her expression. “What dog?”

Freddie’s impatient whine made her laugh. She pulled away from Drew, handed his present to him, and rubbed her hands through Freddie’s lush golden fur. “Merry Christmas, Freddie boy!”

Drew pulled her inside, shut the front door, and took a few steps back.

When Nikki looked up, she gasped. The house was still empty, save the living room. There, a fire crackled in the fireplace, an old-fashioned couch and two chairs sat atop a beautiful, ornate Persian rug, and a small, fat Christmas tree sparkled with a sparse handful of ornaments hanging from its boughs.

Nikki looked from the room to Drew, whose eager expression broke into a satisfied grin at her obvious pleasure and surprise.

“What did you do?” she said. “I thought you didn’t want to bother bringing furniture in here for the short-term.”

He shrugged. “I thought this little bit was the least I could do for our Christmas morning. It’s not much, but—”

“No.” She put up her hand and looked at the room again. “It
is
much.” She couldn’t help but feel a connection to her childhood Christmases now, and her eyes stung with tears.

She gestured at her gift to him. “
That
isn’t much. But this—” She pointed to the living room. “This is the nicest Christmas present you could have given me, Drew.” She gave him another hug and buried her face into his warm, spicy-smelling neck.

He pulled back and chuckled. “Oh, that’s not my gift to you.” He walked away from her, entered the living room, and stood in front of the Christmas tree. He spread out his arms as if he were king of the living room, presenting his domain. “This is the
setting
for my gift to you.”

She grinned. She loved his playful side. She loved all of his sides.

Mischief suddenly brightened his eyes, and he crooked his finger to beckon her toward him. Looking the way he did, he was definitely her pied piper. No question—she’d follow him anywhere.

But his expression changed, as if he suddenly remembered something, and he put up his hand to stop her.

“Oh, you need to bring the dog with you.”

She frowned. “Freddie?”

Freddie, who had already settled into a comfy heap in front of the fire, lifted his head at the sound of his name. But he didn’t get up.

Drew nodded. “It’s best that you take hold of his collar and tug him over here. He’s not going to want to leave that fire.”

Nikki gave Drew a suspicious side glance and smiled. She walked over to Freddie, slipped her fingers under his collar, and said, “Come on, Freddie. Let’s go sit with your crazy master over there.”

Freddie didn’t put up any of the fight Drew predicted, but once Nikki had her fingers under the collar, she noticed a ribbon tied to the buckle. And tied to the ribbon—

She gasped and straightened, her hands quickly covering her mouth.

Freddie trotted in Drew’s direction, so she turned to stop him. “No, wait, Freddie—”

And there was Drew, right behind her, down on one knee, with his trusty best friend trying to jump all over him.

“Stop!” Drew said to Freddie, in mock crazed frustration. He had to put his other knee to the floor to avoid getting knocked over. “Crazy mutt!”

Nikki laughed and cried at the same time.

Once Drew managed to free the ring from Freddie’s collar, he got back into the traditional position. “I kind of pictured this working out a little differently.”

They simply laughed together, a moment’s embarrassment lingering between them before Drew spoke again.

“Nikki, I’ve been thinking along these lines for quite some time now. I just hadn’t been aware of it. And I let our conflict about this house sidetrack me…but only for a little while. There was something about that day—the way we were when Freddie was sick—that reminded me of why I love you. I love the things you care about, Nikki. And in a weird way, I know that whole thing with the house happened because you cared about the house but also because you cared about me. And how I’d feel. And what I’d think.”

She couldn’t speak. She simply nodded. He was absolutely right.

“And what I think,” he said, “is that I want to be with you forever, no matter
where
we live.”

She wiped the tears from her cheeks.

“So I’m asking you, right here in your great-grandparents’ living room: Nikki Tronnier, will you marry me?”

She practically knocked him down when she fell to her knees and wrapped her arms around him. “Yes!” She laughed and pulled back, and she repeated herself before kissing him. “Definitely, yes!”

He returned her kiss, and she decided she never wanted to get up from where they were. This was heaven on earth, right here, kneeling on the floor with him.

When they drew back from each other, he slid the ring onto her finger. “We’ll get it sized tomorrow.” He smiled at her. “I love you, Nikki.”

“I love you, Drew.”

“Oh, there’s one more thing,” he said. He reached into his back pocket. “We can get married whenever you want, however you want,
wherever
you want. You just let me know. But after we do, you’re going to need this.”

He took her hand, turned it palm-up, and placed a shiny brass house key there.

“That goes with the rest of the house.” He leaned forward and kissed her right below her ear. “Welcome home.”

Award-winning novelist Trish Perry has published eight inspirational romances as well as two devotionals. Before writing novels, she published numerous short stories, essays, devotions, and poetry in Christian and general market media. Over the years she has served as a columnist, a newsletter editor, and a stockbroker. She currently serves on the board of directors of Capital Christian Writers in Washington, D.C., and she is a member of both the American Christian Fiction Writers and the Romance Writers of America organizations. She holds a degree in psychology.