Page 140 of The Twelve Months of Christmas
“Very artistic,” he approved.
“How are you doing?” Ava asked as they made their way to the dining room.
“Better every day,” he told her, leaning on his walker. Ava looked skeptical but he continued, “I’m going to get out of here in time for Christmas.”
If he did, it would be the best Christmas present Molly ever got.
“Mom, I don’t know if he’s ever going to make a full recovery,” Ava said in a low voice later as they drove home, Paisley in the back seat, singing to a Christmas song playing in her headphones.
“I’m sure he will,” Molly insisted. “He’s working so hard. But even if he doesn’t, it doesn’t matter.”
“It should. This won’t be easy.”
“Love doesn’t stop at hard,” Molly said, “and I’ll take as much and whatever kind of time I get with him. He’s worth it.”
Ava nodded. “I have to admit, he is.”
“I only hope you find a Reggie of your own someday.”
“I’m not holding my breath.”
“Don’t give up. You never know,” Molly said. “Love has a way of surprising you.”
“And tipping your life upside down,” Ava pointed out.
“I think maybe I needed to get tipped.”
She certainly had, and not just in her love life. In getting proactive and making the most of every day, in keeping the holiday joy going, she’d found a new zest for life. A year of Christmas was turning out to be the best year she’d had in a very long time—even with all the challenges they were facing. She had no idea what her upcoming Christmas would hold, but whatever was waiting, a new and improved Molly was ready for it.
Sunny was celebrating Thanksgiving with her in-laws. Not her first choice, but she was determined to be a good sport. The kids were with the Weed for the day, but Sunny and Travis would have them the following day for their Christmas-in-November party, which worked fine for Sunny.
Not so much for Jeanette. “They should be here, with us,” she said as everyone sat down at the table. Divorce is a terrible thing. “When Harry and I got married, it was for life.”
A life sentence, thought Sunny.
“All this swapping out spouses,” put in Grandma Hollowell shaking her head.
Oh, boy, was this how the day was going to go?
“In some cases it’s called trading up, Gram,” said Travis, and laid a hand on Sunny’s thigh.
“You certainly did better than Tansy,” said his mother.
Was that a compliment? Sunny wasn’t sure.
Jeanette tsk-tsked. “That new man she’s with is horrible.”
“So, Uncle Joe, how’s the car business going?” Travis asked his uncle, steering the conversation into more neutral waters.
Jeanette frowned at having her commentary on the family marriages interrupted, but took the hint and started the peas going around the table.
Grandma Hollowell took the casserole dish of Kahlúa yams Sunny had brought and spooned out a large helping. “These look wonderful, Jeanette.”
“I didn’t make them. Sunny did,” Jeanette said.
Grandma took a bite. “My, they are delicious. And so unique tasting. I don’t think I’ve ever eaten anything like this. What’s your secret, dear?”
“Kahlúa,” Sunny said.
