“Did I ever tell you about Christmas the first year your mother and I were married? We were too poor to afford a tree. A friend gave your mother a poinsettia, and we put our gifts under that.” He smiled at the memory. “It was the most pitiful-looking thing, but you’d have thought it was as grand as a fifteen-foot tree.”
Of all the gifts Julie had received through the years, perhaps the best was the fact that her parents had loved each other deeply.
“What I remember was all of us attending Christmas Eve services and then coming home and opening one gift each.” Julie and Emily were eight years old before they realized that the one gift they were allowed to open always turned out to be pajamas.
“I’m going to miss Mom’s turkey stuffing,” Julie said, sitting back on her heels. For both Thanksgiving and Christmas, her mother had prepared the traditional turkey. Every year she fretted over her stuffing and every year she outdid herself.
“Yours wasn’t bad,” her father assured her.
Like her mother, Julie had worried excessively over her first attempt at cooking the Thanksgiving turkey. “Thanks, Dad. I guess I must’ve picked up something all those years I spent helping Mom.” It felt good to be able to talk freely about her mother. Her father seemed to revel in it, too, although she knew he’d felt wary about reliving the past. Sharing memories made missing her less painful, and Julie knew that these memories would get them through the Christmas season. There would be poignant, tearful moments, but happy ones, too.
“Are you cooking a turkey for Christmas?” her father asked.
Julie hadn’t given the matter much thought. Christmas was still two weeks away, and it seemed a bit early to be thinking about what she’d serve. “I suppose.”
“Seems to me we had leftover turkey for at least a week after Thanksgiving.”
Julie took out the ornaments, examining each one. “Would you rather I made something else?”
“No, no, I like my turkey. It just seems a waste to buy a big bird for the two of us.”
“I could find a smaller one.”
“Or … maybe we should invite a few guests.”
“Guests? Who?” All their family was on the East Coast. Emily was in Florida, and longtime friends had their own families.
“What about Roy and his mother?”
He’d led into that suggestion with such ease Julie hadn’t seen it coming. For a moment, she was too surprised to respond.
“What do you think?” he asked, watching her.
“Well,” she said cautiously, “I don’t know.”
Her father brought the stepladder from the kitchen as he continued his task. “I met Anne this week, and she’s a sensible woman.”
Julie had liked Roy’s mother immensely—and she’d been given real insight into Anne’s son. On Saturday evening, she’d gone to his home with a new awareness of him, an appreciation for the man he was. Consequently her guard had been down. She’d felt as if her heart would shatter with joy when he kissed her. More than that, she’d sensed there could be a profound connection between them. But she had no way of knowing if Roy felt the same things she did. She believed he did, but that could be just wishful thinking.
“You’re not saying anything.” Her father frowned at her over the top of his reading glasses as he stood on the stepladder by the tree.
“That might be nice, but I’m not sure they’ll accept.”
“It won’t do any harm to ask.”
She agreed. This suggestion was unlike her father—but then it dawned on Julie that he might be saying something else. “You like Mrs. Fletcher, Dad?” It was logical; after all, he was alone, and so was Roy’s mother.
Her father paused, the string of lights dangling between his hands. “I know what you’re thinking, Julie.”
“Dad, Mrs. Fletcher is a wonderful woman.”
“I know she is, but I want to make something clear right now, and this is important. Anne Fletcher could never interest me romantically. No woman could replace your mother.”
“Dad, I didn’t mean—”
“I know you didn’t,” he said, cutting her off. “But it’s best to tell you that I don’t plan to remarry, ever. I loved your mother, and frankly, there’s no room in my heart for anyone else.”
“You might feel differently down the road. Mom wouldn’t want you to be lonely.”
“I won’t be. I have every intention of working as long as I can and living a productive life.”
“I certainly hope so,” she teased.
“But I’ll live the rest of my life alone.”
“That decision is yours.”
“I appreciate your understanding, Julie. At some point, you and your sister might feel inclined to match me up, but it’s not what I want.”
“Okay, Dad.”
He nodded, apparently relieved.
Julie scooped up a handful of popcorn and had just started to chew when her father glanced up again. “You were home earlier than I expected last night. Was everything okay between you and Roy?”
She swallowed quickly. “It went really well.”
“Are you going out with him again?”
Roy hadn’t asked, but she’d come to the conclusion that he would. “I think so,” and then she added, because it was true, “I hope so. Does that bother you?”
Her father grinned. “It’s a little late to be asking me that.”
“Yeah, I suppose it is. I like him, Dad.”
Her father’s grin broadened. “I guessed as much. You’ve been walking on air for the last few days.”
“Is it that noticeable?”
Her father chuckled and was about to say something else when the doorbell rang.
Julie stood, brushed off her jeans and hurried to the door. Roy Fletcher stood on the other side. She felt a surge of joy at the sight of him.
“Hi,” he said a bit sheepishly.
“Hi, yourself.”
“Doing anything special?”
She nodded and reached for his hand, pulling him into the foyer. “Want to help?”
“Maybe.” He wrapped his arms around her waist. Nuzzling her neck with his cold nose, he whispered, “I woke up this morning and realized I missed you. By the way—” he dropped a kiss on her forehead “—I bought tickets
