Page 35 of A Winter's Miracle

“We all pick the details we want to share,” Bernard reminded her. “We’re all writers, in a sense. Unfortunately for Violet, she couldn’t fully hide from the past. But maybe we can help her write a better future.”

Chapter Sixteen

The shift in Violet after the trip to Manhattan happened gradually and then all at once, similar to a flower opening its petals in the light of spring. She smiled more and demanded of Anna less. She offered to help with Adam rather than take over responsibilities completely, thinking she knew best, and she frequently joined the Copperfield women on the back porch for wine and snacks, listening just as much as she gossiped. She was day to December Violet’s night. Anna found herself genuinely adoring her company and questioning why she’d ever wanted her to go back to Ohio in the first place. She was a dream.

At the beginning of March, as early spring light spilled through the kitchen window, Anna asked Julia why, in her opinion, Violet had come out of her shell. “You didn’t talk to her about Larry, did you?”

Julia was chopping garlic on the counter. “Nothing like that. But Alana and I gave her a pep talk about making different choices in your forties. About building a new life. Maybe she took it to heart?”

It seemed too simple to Anna. She shared the information with Smith, who agreed with her. “People don’t make shifts that quickly,” he said. “Something must have happened. Or she’s pretending everything is all right—and she’s about to break.”

According to Smith, Violet had continued to bring him food, cookies, and other treats while he worked. She never demanded anything of him. “She usually just knocks on the doorframe and says, ‘You’re doing wonderfully.’ And then, she disappears down the hall.”

Only once did Anna really think something was wrong with Violet.

They were in the nursery with Adam, changing him into a light blue onesie and doting over him. Neither could believe he was nearly two months old. He was already in the ninetieth percentile size-wise, and they made him believe he was incredibly smart and understood far more than he let on.

“He’s our baby genius,” Anna said, giggling as she raised him into the air.

“Just imagine what he’ll be like at the wedding!” Violet agreed. “Maybe he can be your little ring bearer. Won’t Daddy think he’s so cute?”

Anna’s smile fell off her face. Slowly, she shifted Adam into her arms and blinked at Violet, who continued to smile as though nothing was wrong. “Are you talking about Mom’s wedding? The one next month?”

Violet blinked at her dully as though she wasn’t sure what Anna was talking about. Anna had the strangest suspicion that Violet was talking about a very different wedding. The one she’d been engaged for. The one that hadn’t happened.

“Of course,” Violet sputtered.

“Because I don’t think he’ll be up for being a ring bearer,” Anna said. “He won’t be able to walk!” She adjusted her tone, making it childish and sweet again.

“Of course!” Violet repeated, wavering from foot to foot.

That evening, Anna met with her mother in her office. Julia looked frazzled, her hair in a giant knot atop her head, Smith’s manuscript spread across the desk. Anna sat beside her, watching Julia’s massive red pen wiggling across the pages, making edits and corrections. Once, she wrote a large “WHY” over an entire paragraph, which Anna found a little aggressive.

When Anna explained what had happened that afternoon with Violet, Julia frowned, forming a stack of wrinkles on her hairline. “She must have misspoken.”

“I don’t know,” Anna offered. “It almost felt like, for a minute, she genuinely believed Adam would be the ring bearer at my wedding—to Dean.”

“Maybe she meant a different wedding?” Julia tried. “I mean, everyone has noticed you and Smith are getting closer.”

“We’re just friends.”

Julia rubbed her temples and returned her gaze to the manuscript. Massive shadows lurked beneath her eyes. This wasn’t a good time.

“How is it going?” Anna asked, nodding toward the pages.

“Oh? I mean, fine. Mostly.” Julia chewed on the edge of a pen absentmindedly, a habit she’d told Anna was disgusting. “I can’t help but feel Smith has slowed down a little. As though he’s distracted.”

Heat crawled up Anna’s throat. The last thing she wanted was to get between Smith and her mother and their publishing schedule.

“Then again, there’s nothing harder than writing the end of a book,” Julia added, forcing a smile. “I’m sure he’ll finish strong.” A hint of doubt lingered in her voice and continued to echo in Anna’s mind for hours later.

The day before Adam’s two-month birthday, there was a knock on Anna’s bedroom door. Smith and Luka were on the other side, Smith with a backpack filled with a picnic and Luka with a wide-eyed, tongue-lolling smile.

“Good morning!” Anna said. She was still wearing sweatpants and a tank top, and only half of her makeup was done, a result of Adam squawking in the middle of her routine.

“Do you have plans today?” Smith asked. “I need to get out of the house.”

Anna hurried to dress, finish her makeup, and prepare a bag with Adam’s many required accessories—diapers, wipes, bottles, and brightly colored distractions. She’d read that babies couldn’t see very well during their first few months of life, which made the bright, blurry items all the more interesting.

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