Page 54 of Unexpected Gifts

They were quiet after that, listening to the Christmas tunes as they drew nearer to town. He parked in the back of Sugarville Slice and helped everyone from the car.

The cold air nipped at his cheeks. Temperatures dropped fast after sunset this time of year. He hustled them all into the pizza place, following behind like a protective daddy goose. A rich, smoky aroma engulfed him the minute they stepped inside, the woodsmoke from the pizza oven mingling with the scent of freshly baked dough, Italian herbs, garlic, and tangy tomato sauce.

“This is wonderful,” Abby said. “So open and inviting.”

It was true. The owner had gone with a minimalist design, with light wood, polished floors, and simple booths and tables. High ceilings with exposed wooden beams added a rustic touch. An open kitchen with a large wood-fired oven allowed guests to watch their pizzas being cooked. Tonight, the counter was nearly full, as were the booths and tables.

There were no Christmas decorations hanging in the restaurant. Luke wasn’t sure why, but he’d noticed it the year before as well. Gossip about the owner, Charlie Kane, had been flowing since she moved to town. Kris had said she was a retired tech billionaire who had moved to Vermont for a quiet life. Luke didn’t know if any of it was true. Charlie kept to herself, sharing little about her past with anyone, not even her employees.

A young hostess hurried over and asked if they could wait a few minutes for her to clear and clean a booth for them. They happily agreed, and the five of them hung out near the door, discarding jackets, scarves, and hats while they waited. Abby had picked up a menu and was chuckling over the funny names of the pizzas. Charlie had leaned heavily into the Vermont theme, including the Lumberjack, the Maple Mountain, the Green Mountain Goat, and so forth.

Soon, they were seated in a comfortable booth. All three children had climbed into one side of the table, leaving Luke and Abby no choice but to sit next to each other. Not that he minded being close enough to smell her sweet perfume—a flowery scent mixed with a hint of vanilla. He hoped he smelled as good to her as she did to him.

The children all agreed they wanted a plain cheese pizza, aptly named the Sugarville Classic. When he was alone, Luke almost always ordered the Maple Islander, which had Canadian bacon and pineapple, with a drizzle of his family’s maple syrup for additional sweetness. However, he didn’t mention it because no one in his family liked it, and he figured Abby wouldn’t either.

Oddly enough, she pointed to the Maple Islander on the menu. “I don’t suppose I could talk you into this one?”

“No way. That’s my favorite,” Luke said.

“Really?” They locked gazes for a moment, grinning like a couple of kids.

“Daddy loves that one,” Lily said, very serious. “My uncles laugh. I don’t know why.”

“Well, it’s a good thing they’re not here tonight.” Abby reached across the table to tug on one of Lily’s curls.

His heart twisted when his little girl smiled over at Abby as though she were the best person she’d ever met. Was it possible his daughter was falling for Abby as hard as he was?

Sitting here, like a family, felt so right to him. Had he actually been searching without even realizing he was missing something? Was it possible that God had brought him the perfect person?

And if so, how could he feel happy about it when Sophie and Jack had lost their mother?

This was the thing about life. Tragedy and good fortune seemed random. It was too simple to say that life was one thing or the other. Instead, joy and sadness coexisted. It was our ability to adapt to change, he supposed, that separated those who lived joyful lives and those who lived embittered ones. He’d resisted accepting his failed marriage and, therefore, being open to something new and beautiful. His shame and bitterness had consumed him, leaving little room for seeing all the blessings in his life. So much abundance. His brothers and parents. The satisfaction he found in running his family’s farm. And of course, his precious Lily. Without his failed marriage, he would not have her. Had he suffered from great guilt, knowing she would be raised without a mother? Yes. But on the other hand, his mother had given up what should have been days filled with ease and the pursuit of her own interests to care for Lily. Now, this amazingwoman and her overly exuberant dog had come into his and Lily’s life and opened his heart to the possibility of love.

If that wasn’t a Christmas miracle, he didn’t know what was.

They ordered their pizzas, along with mugs of root beer for the kids and local IPAs for Abby and Luke. While they sipped their drinks and waited for the delicious hot pies to come out of the oven, Jack and Lily colored pictures with crayons the server had brought to the table. Sophie, unusually animated, told them about the A she’d gotten on an essay about what she was thankful for this Thanksgiving. “I got the paper back today, and my teacher, Mrs. McClintock, said it was the best one any of her students had ever done.”

“All that reading you do must be making you a great writer,” Abby said, sounding proud. “Well done.”

“I’m good at school. Like you.” Sophie leaned over her drink, using a straw to take a sip of her root beer.

“I loved school, and yes, I was very good at it. Sometimes, I thought it might be the only thing I would ever be good at.”

“Why?” Sophie asked.

“I don’t know. I guess I didn’t have a lot of friends because I was always so serious about everything. Other kids thought I was weird.”

“Did you care?” Sophie asked.

Abby laughed, shaking her head. “Not really, no. I’ve always been indifferent to others’ opinions of me.” She sobered. “But you know, your mom never made fun of me or made me feel bad for being so serious about school. She understood that I wanted to make something of myself.” Tears glistened in her eyes. “She was a really good friend to me. The best one I ever had. I wish I’d had more time with her.”

“Me too.” Sophie’s gaze drifted downward as if the contents of her mug were suddenly interesting. Several tears wandered down her cheeks. “I miss her so much.”

Luke held his breath, unsure what to say or do.

Abby reached across the table and brushed away the child’s tears. “I know, baby. I know. I felt the same way when I lost my mom.”

“Will I ever not have this bad feeling in my stomach?” Sophie asked. “Did it ever go away for you?”

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