Page 87 of Ten Christmases Without You
“What are we doing?”
“You’ll see.”
They went downstairs, and he opened the front door. He flicked the outside light on, and they stepped into the frigid cold. Snow fell all around them like feathers—giant flakes floating on the wind. An inch had fallen already. He scooped up a handful and held it under the yellow porch light, the flakes glittering, then he tossed it into the air, the sparkles raining down on them like pixie dust. He grabbed her hands and ran out into the front yard, spinning her around.
She laughed as her boots crunched against the powdery snow. “I didn’t think we’d get a white Christmas. I can’t believe it.”
He stopped and looked down at her with fondness in his eyes. “Maybe it’s all for you—from your mom.”
She had to wonder if her mom had a hand in all this. It would be her style to add a snowstorm just to make her family happy.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
“We are seeing significant accumulation,” the newscaster said from the family room TV as Emmy entered the next morning. “Richmond International Airport is recording 11.5 inches of snow.”
Charlie was sitting on the sofa, his pillow and blankets folded next to him.
Emmy inhaled the sweet and savory scents of breakfast—salt, butter, sage, and sugar.
“Morning,” she said, trying not to look as lovestruck by him as she was.
“Good morning,” he said.
Aunt Charlotte buzzed in. “We’ve got banana bread in the oven, and your Uncle Brian’s making steak and eggs for everyone.”
The snow had fallen so quickly that they’d all stayed over last night. Madison had cleaned out the linens in her closets and scrounged up pillows for everyone. Aunt Charlotte and Uncle Stephen slept on an air mattress in the formal living room, and Aunt Elsie and Uncle Brian took the sofas in Jack’s ping-pong room upstairs.
Uncle Stephen rounded the corner and plopped down next to Charlie. “I think the ladies were planning to play card games after breakfast, but I told them they only have the morning because New England and Miami are kicking off at one. I smell an upset.”
Charlie chuckled. “I doubt it very seriously. It would take a miracle for Miami to win that.”
“You’re in the right house for miracles,” Uncle Stephen said. “Emmy is a famous designer—and whoever thought that would happen—James is almost ready to walk out of the hospital on his own after a massive heart attack, you’ve managed to hang out with us yet another year,andit’s snowing. In Richmond. In December. I’ve got my money on Miami.”
“Fair enough,” Charlie said with a grin.
They spent the rest of the day hunkered down inside by the fire, playing cards, nibbling cookies, and cheering on another game while snow fluttered down outside. She couldn’t believe it, but Miami won. The announcers even called the win the “Miami Miracle.” They all got a good laugh out of that one. Even though Emmy had a lot on her mind, she relished the absolute perfection of being there. The only thing they were missing was her dad. But they’d piped him in on another video call, which was all she could ask for. Maybe itwasthe year of miracles.
Everyone headed upstairsfor the night. The family room was dimly lit by the flickering fire and the twinkling of the Christmas tree.
“Good night,” Emmy said.
Charlie stopped her. “Want to have a glass of wine before you turn in?”
“That sounds really great, actually.”
He beckoned her into the kitchen. Emmy took two stemmed glasses down from the cabinet and located the corkscrew. Charlie retrieved one of the bottles of wine he’d picked up when he’d gotten the prizes for their gift exchange. With an airy burst, he popped the cork.
“I almost talked myself out of coming to see you this Christmas,” he said, filling the glasses with Brachetto d’Acqui.
“You did?”
“I didn’t know if you wanted me to. We hadn’t talked very much, and while every moment I was with you it felt like old times, I wasn’t—you know—sure…”
“I’m glad you took a chance.”
“So am I.” He handed her a glass. “I’m not tired in the least, and I get you all to myself.”
They went into the family room and sat down on the sofa.
