Page 29 of The Healing of Christmas

“You met my mother, you know.”

Charlie raised his eyebrows. “Did I?”

“At the diner.”

Charlie placed his hand over his mouth. “Your mother is Jeez, Louise?”

“She is,” Charlotte said, shaking with laughter.

“She saw the drawings.” Charlie looked as though he’d just solved an impossible riddle.

Charlotte waved her hand. “Don’t worry about it. She knows I said no to you. In a way, it weirdly brought us back together.”

“I never saw myself as the type to reunite families.”

“How do you see yourself?” Charlotte took another sip of hot, tangy wine.

“Good question,” Charlie said. “In Buddhism, there is no self.”

Charlotte rolled her eyes. “Seriously! Come on. How do you see yourself?”

Charlie looked uncomfortable, as though she’d just accused him of committing a crime. He cast his eyes across the small crowd of the Christmas market, which was mostly city-folks, here to experience small-town Christmas.

“I see myself as a businessman,” Charlie said finally. “That probably sounds sad to you, doesn’t it?”

“It doesn’t matter what I think,” Charlotte said.

Charlie nodded. “I don’t like seeing myself that way. It’s part of the reason I came out here. I wanted a different context.” He smiled distractedly, his eyes still elsewhere. “I wanted to remember how I used to see myself. I wanted to see if there was any of him leftover.”

This tugged at Charlotte’s heartstrings. Yet again, Charlie Bryant had surprised her.

“Have you found him at all?” Charlotte asked. “Your past self, I mean.”

Charlie shrugged. “Sometimes, when I’m deep in the woods, I close my eyes and pretend to be him. I imagine I’m twenty-four, still in the suburbs of Chicago. Still broke. Still so unsure of where my life was going to go.”

Charlotte couldn’t believe how open Charlie was. It felt as though they’d carved out another dimension for themselves, where they could speak clearly and honestly about their souls.

Of course, this wasn’t a date. But if it had been, Charlotte would have chosen this moment to fall head-over-heels in love.

Suddenly, Charlie dropped his head down to whisper in Charlotte’s ear. “Isn’t that your mom?”

Charlotte’s heartbeat raced. She followed Charlie’s gaze across the Christmas Market to find her mother, all bundled up and smiling. Like Charlotte, she’d opted for lipstick, but hers was brighter red, more scandalous. What was she laughing at? Charlotte followed Louise’s eyes to a dark figure beside her, with grizzled hair and a thick, dark coat. Charlotte grabbed Charlie’s elbow.

“That’s her neighbor!” Charlotte breathed. “Bert Velton!”

“That’s Bert Velton?” Charlie gasped.

Charlotte turned to lock eyes with Charlie. “How do you know about Bert?”

Charlie laughed. “I don’t. I just love how excited you look right now.”

Charlotte tugged Charlie’s elbow and led him around the side of a Christmas stall. “My mother is on a date,” she whispered. “I can’t believe it.”

“She looks beautiful,” Charlie said. “That lipstick is something special.”

“My mother never wears lipstick like that,” Charlotte said. “And as far as I know, she hasn’t been on a date in years.”

“Didn’t you say you weren’t in contact for a while?”

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