The Trouble with Christmas (3 page)

“Hello, Avery. Lily.” Evalyn kissed both girls on the cheek. She smoothed her sleek gray cashmere dress down her slim body. “Let’s get going, shall we?”

And at her command, everyone strapped in, and the helicopter took flight. As they neared the island, Lily felt her shoulders begin to relax. She had been visiting Indigo Island with the Putnams for years, but she never realized until today just how much the island calmed her. She took a deep breath and looked over at Avery, who was smiling out the window.

Lily remembered the December of her freshman year in high school when her dad had packed his bags and said goodbye, telling her he’d found his soul mate and was moving to Chicago to be with her. “But what about me and mom?” Lily had asked, too stunned to be able to comprehend that he really intended to leave them forever.

“I’ll always love you, Lily, but I need to live a genuine life,” her dad had said, patting her on the head like a dog. And then he’d left. Lily had barely seen him since. Her mom had fallen apart, unable to pull herself out of the alcoholism his sudden exit triggered after their twenty-two year marriage.

And now more than fifteen Decembers later, another man has abruptly left, breaking his promise to her. She was cursed. A tear worked its way down her cheek before she could stop it.

“Hey, no more tears. We’re about to land at the most magical island of healing ever,” Avery said patting Lily’s hand.

Lily smiled.

“You get your own room now! I
have
to share with Mark,” Avery joked as they hurried to the waiting golf cart. Lily smiled at the things the Putnams took for granted. The wealth, the happiness, the golf carts that matched their helicopters, and their private jets. But even as much as Avery took all the symbols of her wealth for granted, she was a true and wonderful friend. The best friend Lily could hope for.

Evalyn Putnam walked ahead of the younger women, up the steps to the front door of the Putnam Plantation, a replica of an antebellum Southern plantation that formerly occupied just this spot on Indigo Island. Every time Lily visited, she imagined what it must have been like here before air conditioning and running water, before all the comforts she took for granted. As Evalyn reached the wrap-around porch, she smiled and said, “It’s so good to be here, isn’t it? Take a deep breath, girls. Ahhh.”

Lily smiled, trying to shake off her negative thoughts so she’d be a better guest. Avery rushed past her mom up the stairs to the wide front porch. A huge wreath made from large branches of local pine trees decorated the front door. Garland had been wrapped around the banister of the long porch. White twinkle lights have been threaded through the branches, held in place by cheerful red ribbon. The front porch lights were decorated with the same bold red ribbons, standing out against the white wood of the home. A fresh evergreen wreath adorned every window, held in place by a thick red velvet ribbon. Everything was, as always, perfect.

“Well, do you girls feel the chill in the air?” Evalyn asked as her housekeeper pulled open the front door. “Hope you have a fire going, Millie.”

“Yes, in the library and in the family room, Ms. Putnam. Welcome home,” Millie said, stepping out of the way.

“Oh, Mom, who decorated the tree?” Avery asked in a voice that made her sound as if she were a small child.

“Millie handled it, since I wasn’t sure who would be here when and I wanted the tree up when I arrived. Isn’t it gorgeous?”

The tree was massive, easily fifteen feet tall, towering over the Putnams’ grand foyer. The entire room was filled with the smell of fresh pine. The tree was decorated with white lights, and the only accent color was red. Huge silver and white ornaments glistened and danced under the light from the tree and the large crystal chandelier was suspended just above the shining, silver star topping the tree. The scale of everything in the room reminded Lily of a grand hotel lobby. And this was only one of the Putnam’s homes.

Behind the tree, the bannister of the circular stairway that led up to the second floor was decorated, like the outside deck, with garland, white lights and red ribbon.

“It’s gorgeous,” Lily said to Evalyn.

Avery had lost interest in the tree and had walked into the library to the right of the foyer.

“Avery is making sure I didn’t decorate the library tree,” Evalyn said to Lily with a knowing smile. “I didn’t, of course. I’ll leave that one to you girls.”

Avery walked back to where Evalyn and Lily stood admiring the tree. She kissed her mother on the cheek. “Thanks mom. I was worried you’d let someone else decorate the family tree.”

“You know I wouldn’t, dear,” Evalyn said. “Lily, you are in the blue room at the end of the hall. Perhaps you’d like to unpack. Lunch will be served in about an hour, in the kitchen since it’s just the three of us.”

“Thank you, both, so much. I’m so happy to be here,” Lily said and realized it was true.

She followed Avery up the grand staircase, grateful her friend had realized that if Lily had been left alone to dwell on her heartbreak, she would have felt far worse.

“James will be here this afternoon,” Avery said as they reached the top of the stairs. “I’m surprised. Usually he doesn’t come play family until the last minute. He’s almost as bad as Blake used to be.”

“Oh great. When do Mark and Denton and Blake get into town?” Lily followed Avery into her bedroom.

Avery’s room faced the ocean and had been redone since Lily had last visited. Instead of the two queen beds, there now was a king bed covered with an impossibly fluffy white comforter. The floors, as in all the bedrooms, were hardwood, softened by thick white wool rugs. Two overstuffed white chairs framed the window and the sparkling ocean view.

“This room is gorgeous,” Lily said.

The bedside tables were each decorated with matching three-foot tall Christmas trees, with shiny red ball ornaments—the only color in the room. A fresh pine wreath tied with a bright red velvet bow hung from the top of the mirror over the long mahogany dresser.

Avery walked into the passageway that separated the room from the full bath and slid open the mirrored closet doors, inspecting the clothes hanging inside.

“It’s always so much fun to see what I left here. Sometimes I leave things here on purpose, just so something will seem new and fresh. Like this sweater—oh, and these sweat pants. I love these,” she said, pulling out a pair of gray sweats and hugging them tight. “Mark doesn’t like me in sweats so I’ll have to wear them all day today.”

The staff had unpacked Avery’s suitcases and her toiletries were assembled on the white marble countertop in the large bathroom. Avery pulled off her jeans and pulled on her sweats. “That’s better,” she said. “Let’s go get you settled and into some sweats. We have a tree to decorate!”

COLE

‡

C
ole stanton thought
the chill in the air felt great as he stretched for his morning jog. Compared to the summer months when he’d been sure he’d given himself heat stroke a couple of times, this was the perfect weather for a run. Since he’d moved here a few months ago to start a new life, Cole was now in the best shape of his life, as long as no one looked too closely at his hands, covered with cuts and blisters, and the hair on his right arm had been singed off as well as his eyebrows in a freak flash over fire two days ago. If Sally Ann hadn’t been there with a fire extinguisher, the entire restaurant would have been consumed in flames.

He ran along the flat, firm sand at the edge of the ocean, enjoying the views over to Hilton Head, and along the south to the tip of the island, a development called Bloody Point after the notorious battles that had taken place centuries before. In the far distance, he could see Tybee Island, another Sea Island that, like Hilton Head, was connected to the mainland by a bridge ages ago.

What a difference a bridge would make for the restaurant. He stopped at a tangled pile of driftwood that blocked the rest of the beach. A bridge would bring in more diners, which the restaurant desperately needed, but it would also ruin the seclusion and peace of the island, a place his grandmother introduced him to when he was a child. He needed to find an answer to the dwindling profits. As he jogged back home, his mood dark, not improved by the quick five-mile run. For the first time in his life, Cole had failed. His embarrassment still rankled. As the new owner of Marshside Mama’s restaurant, he’d overpromised and under delivered on his first major holiday, Thanksgiving. What had he been thinking? He didn’t know the restaurant industry, nor did he know the island that well, but he had jumped in anyway, investing in Sally Ann’s Marshside Mama’s with a lot of ideas fueled by arrogance and enthusiasm and not a lot of knowledge or foresight.

What the hell had happened to his brain? He’d been determined to improve people’s lives, not destroy them. His jaw hurt because he’s been clenching it so often, but as he ran past the Putnam Plantation, he had a whole different hurt. Christmas had arrived. The porch glowed with white lights, wrapped in garland and cheery red ribbon bows. Christmas. The trouble with Christmas? It was a family holiday, but his family was far away. His parents had begged him to come home to New England for the holidays but he couldn’t leave Sally Ann with the mess he had created. So he’d promised his mom he’d make it next year. She hadn’t been happy, and he felt even worse.

Cole imagined his family’s home in Lincoln, elaborately decorated for Christmas with colorful lights, a tree filled with the handmade ornaments Cole and his brother had made through elementary school. His mom’s spiced apple cider always simmered on the stove, filling the house with the scents of family and the holidays. He imagined the snow was already blanketing the ground, and his mom would have a roaring fire in the fireplace. And he was here. Alone.

*

He shook his
head and pushed the sadness away. He’d chosen to change, to move far away and start over. He decided that after the lunch rush, he’d head to the General Store to find a few Christmas decorations. That would get him in the spirit.

*

LILY

After lunch, and
decorating the library tree together—with Avery explaining the meaning and significance of almost every ornament they unwrapped—Lily suggested they bake Christmas cookies. It was the least she could do to thank the Putnams for their hospitality.

A quick survey of the kitchen pantry revealed all of the ingredients she needed, except sprinkles.

“We can’t have Christmas cookies without sprinkles,” Avery announced.

“Sure we can,” Lily said. “We can make gingerbread boys and girls, even a gingerbread house. That would be fun.”

“I need sprinkles, and gumdrops, and those shiny round metal thingamabobs, otherwise, it’s just not the same,” Avery said. “They’ll have some at the General Store. If not, we’ll go beg for some from the inn. James and dad own it now somehow, did I tell you that?”

“Something about a sex scandal with the general manager.”

“I don’t think it was that lurid,” Avery laughed. “But two employees there, a couple, are now managing it, and Dad and James agreed to buy it from the corporation that owned it so they could keep it true to the island and its history. I guess it has been going well because I haven’t heard James complain at all about it,” Avery said. “Speaking of James,” she said with studied casualness, which made Lily’s ears perk up. “Do you still think he’s cute?”