Page 81 of Meet Me at Christmas
“Perfect,” Lily said, sitting back satisfied. “What about something blue, Stella? Do you have anything? I have a little blue garter.”
Stella considered what she’d brought in her suitcase. “I don’t,” she said.
Lily clapped her hands. “It’s settled then. You wear the Christmas Diamond.”
Stella considered its history of bad luck, but her grandma Florence hadn’t had any bad luck that she was aware of. “Should I?”
“Yes,” Lily replied. “It’s your something blue.”
Stella still wasn’t sure.
Henry returned and clicked off his phone. “The guy who set up the dinner at the Christmas-tree lot said he can bring over a red runner for the stairs and a couple of white chairs and bows. He also knows the guy who owns the lot and he’s going to bring over a bunch of trees that haven’t sold. They’d go to the chipper anyway.”
Stella kissed his cheek.
Pop’s voice whispered,“What’s meant to be will be.”Stella smiled, looking up at the ceiling for some sign he was there. But, of course, there was nothing.
As the evening went on, Mama turned on Christmas music in the kitchen. Lily called the town florist, her best friend from high school, who was going to make them both a quick bouquet. Having completed all their wedding duties, Henry and Mateo had settled on the sofa in the living room to watch a football game with Mr. Ferguson.
Mama paused beside the table and put her hands on her hips, a content grin spreading across her face. “We have a full house,” she said. “How wonderful is this? The whole family is here.”
Stella and Lily both stopped what they were doing and wrapped their arms around their mother.
“I feel Pop here with us too,” Lily said.
Mama sucked in a breath. “You do?”
Lily nodded.
“Oh, how I wish he could show us,” Mama said.
Stella knew exactly how her mother felt. She, too, wished Pop could somehow let them know he was there. “I found a letter from him in his desk. It was addressed to me.”
Lily and Mama both gaped at her, Mama’s face shining with a tiny thrill of hope.
Stella told them part of what Pop had written. “If he could show us, he would.”
Mama nodded, her eyes glassy.
Lily grabbed their hands. “No matter what, he’s here. Even if he can’t show us.”
Twenty-Five
There was a buzz throughout the house Christmas morning as the sisters got ready in Stella’s childhood bedroom.
“Is it too wrinkled from being in the bag?” Lily asked Stella, smoothing the satin on her beaded wedding gown.
“It’s perfect,” Stella replied, getting misty-eyed at the sight of her little sister as a bride.
Lily’s blonde locks were pulled up in a loose bun with tendrils framing her face, accentuating the gleam of sheer gloss on her lips. She was a picture of perfection.
“Moment of truth,” Stella said, taking her gown out of the closet. She held it out to examine it. The cut demanded a more youthful figure, but when she slipped it on, it fit like a glove and accentuated her mature curves better than she’d hoped.
“Oh, my goodness, Stella,” Lily said. “You look beautiful.” Her sister came over and tucked a little piece of holly in the pearl-pinned sides of her long flowing hair. “Perfect.”
“Are we really doing this?” Stella asked.
Lily giggled. “Absolutely.”
