Page 31 of The Healing of Christmas

The plan was to move into the apartment after New Year's Eve. Charlie had turned down several developer jobs that autumn and winter, bent on setting up his new apartment and taking time with his daughter during her final year of high school. It was impossible to him just how quickly life had gone. One minute, he and Sarah had been struggling to make ends meet in Chicago, and the next, he was arm-in-arm with the billionaire Baxter Bailey, working on some of the most iconic projects in the city. Melissa had been a toddler, and then suddenly, she’d been seventeen.

As they decorated the Christmas tree that night in their apartment near Chinatown, Charlie announced his plans to Sarah and Melissa. “A road trip. We’ll do a big circle through New England, hit up all the small towns for their Christmas charm, and maybe even make time for Niagara Falls.”

Sarah smiled knowingly. She remembered that first road trip so many years ago when she’d told Charlie about the baby. They wouldn’t return to that motel room at the edges of White Plains, New Jersey, of course. But they could rent a nice vacation spot somewhere near there and reminisce.

“We have to make a list of road trip snacks,” Melissa announced. “Twizzlers are a must. Pretzels. Doritos.” She counted them out on her fingers, her eyes illuminated. It occurred to Charlie that his daughter hadn’t had a childhood like his; she’d hardly spent much time in a car, whereas he’d continually been in his mother’s car, whiling away the hours. Probably, Melissa thought of road trips with romanticism. She’d also readOn the Roadby Jack Kerouac that year; maybe that had something to do with it.

“We’ll make Christmas cookies,” Sarah added.

“Great idea, Mom,” Melissa said. “I can’t wait to get out of the city!”

Later, after Melissa disappeared into her bedroom to text her friends, Charlie and Sarah poured themselves glasses of wine and cozied up on the couch. They laughed about Melissa’s desire to leave the city when all Sarah and Charlie had done was fight to get into it.

“Children always push back against their parents,” Sarah said. “Even kids as perfect as Melissa.”

Charlie and Sarah had secretly wanted more children. They’d tried continually in the years after Melissa’s birth, praying for a miracle. But the doctors said that Sarah shouldn’t have gotten pregnant in the first place— there was something wrong with her cervix. They’d decided to throw all the love in the world Melissa’s way. They couldn’t regret that.

The day after Melissa’s school let out for the holidays, Charlie, Sarah, and Melissa loaded up the Volvo and got on the road. It wasn’t far to White Plains, just a two-hour hop into northern New Jersey, but the contrast between the city and the outskirts was like night and day. Very soon, they were shrouded on either side by deep, impenetrable woods.

“I just saw three deer!” Melissa cried from the backseat. “They were running through the trees! I could see their white tails!”

“Three, huh? Okay. Melissa is winning. Sarah, we have to try to keep up.”

“I didn’t know this was a contest,” Sarah joked.

“Everything is a contest in this family,” Charlie said. “You should know that!” Between the seats, he and Sarah held hands, and his heartbeat felt very slow and solid. He felt as though he was exactly where he was supposed to be.

The vacation house he’d booked on the outskirts of White Plains had once been a farmhouse. It towered over the fields beside it and was flanked with thick woods. The barn was painted a bright red and was used for wedding festivities, while the house itself had been completely remodeled on the inside, allowing guests to enjoy an indoor sauna, pool, hot tub, a movie theater, two different kitchens, and beds comfier than anything he and Sarah had ever experienced.

“You have to ask them the brand,” Sarah said as she rolled around on the mattress. “We have to buy them for the new apartment. One in every room!”

Charlie dropped onto the mattress beside her, placed his hand on her stomach, and kissed her with his eyes closed. From down the hall came Melissa’s cry: “Have you seen the showers? They’re like waterfalls!”

Charlie, Sarah, and Melissa went downstairs to assess the kitchen. There, they brewed hot chocolate with marshmallows and sat in the nook, watching the snowfall across the fields and over the woods.

“I don’t hear anything,” Melissa whispered, shaking her head. “It’s like the city doesn’t even exist.”

Sarah and Charlie locked eyes across the table. Charlie felt a strange pang of regret. Should he have raised his daughter out of the chaos of the city? Perhaps all children just really craved nature.

Melissa decided she wanted to go for a walk. They bundled up in boots, snow pants, coats, hats, and gloves and crunched across the rolling hills, headed for the woods. Above them, cardinals flitted in and out of the trees, and several fat gray squirrels regarded them from tree branches, too big to run away. Melissa took photographs of everything with her cell phone, wanting to document their big trip away. Everything she said and everything she did, Charlie wanted to write down for himself. In a year, Melissa would be in California, so far away. He and Sarah would be heartbroken. They would need their memories.

For a long time, Melissa ordered that they stand behind a tree, watching three large rabbits bounce through a clearing. They were white as snow, their ears flickering, and their pink noses jumping up and down as they ate whatever was left to find. They hopped away when Charlie accidentally stepped on a twig and crunched it.

“Dad!” Melissa scolded him, smiling.

“Sorry!” Charlie raised his hands.

Melissa’s cheeks were bright pink from the chill. Sarah insisted they head back to the farmhouse to warm up. “After that, we have to go grocery shopping,” she said. “That kitchen is too good to resist. I’m going to make a feast.”

Back at the farmhouse, Sarah made a long list of groceries. She pestered Charlie to ask the owners if they could stay at the farmhouse a few days more rather than continue their road trip immediately.

“Wouldn’t it be nice to pretend we live out here?” she said, curling her hair around her finger absently.

“You want to pretend to be the farmer’s wife?” Charlie teased.

“I’ll wake up at four in the morning to milk the cows,” Sarah said. “And I’ll collect all the eggs from the chickens.”

Charlie stood behind her and wrapped his arms around her stomach. Together, they gazed through the window as the soft late-afternoon light blessed the fields. Within the hour, it would be inky black. It was time to go.

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