The Night Before Christmas Read online

  Allie didn’t say anything. Instead, she popped the rest of the Christmas cookie into his mouth, and then she slid off the desk and sat down on his lap. It wasn’t as easy as it had been eight and a half months ago, but she still fit, and when she snuggled closer to him and he put his arms around her, it felt as right as it ever had.

  Walker finished the cookie, and she rested her head on his shoulder, and they stayed that way for a little while until he said, “Look, I know, rationally, that you and the baby are okay, but on some other level, I can’t help it, Allie. I’m scared. I’m scared for you, I’m scared for the baby, and, selfishly, I guess, I’m scared for myself, too. Scared of . . .” But again, he couldn’t say it. Couldn’t say “losing you,” or “losing the baby.” It made the possibility of either of these things seem too real.

  “Walker,” she said, taking her head off his shoulder and looking into his eyes. “Everything is fine. You’ve seen all the test results. The baby and I are both perfectly healthy.”

  “The tests can’t test for everything,” he pointed out.

  “No, they can’t. But intuition counts for something, too. And I just feel . . . no, I just know, that everything is going to be okay. You have to trust me on this one. Because that feeling reassures me more than any test ever could.”

  He nodded, slightly mollified, and she smiled at him and snuggled closer. God, she was so beautiful right now, he thought, reaching out a finger to stroke her smooth cheek. And he had to admit that as much as he’d worried about her being pregnant, he’d still loved the way she looked pregnant. He’d loved the extra sheen in her honey-­colored hair, the extra brightness in her hazel eyes, and the extra glow in her pale, gold skin. He put his hand on her belly now and left it there, comforted that even through the thick wool of her maternity sweater he could feel the reassuring warmth and solidity. He stroked her belly then, gently, in a way he knew Allie liked, until he felt something jump, almost violently, under his hand. He pulled his hand away, startled, and Allie laughed. “That was quite a kick,” she said. “The baby’s been doing that a lot today.”

  He put his hand, gingerly, back onto her belly. “Remember when the kicks used to be these little fluttery things?” he asked her. “It almost felt like you had butterflies trapped in there.”

  “Well, not anymore,” Allie said, nuzzling her cheek against his. “Our baby’s getting stronger. It’s getting ready to be born.”

  “It’s amazing, isn’t it?” he said, rubbing her belly again. “Even after all the books I’ve read, and all the programs we watched about pregnancy, and labor and delivery, the baby still doesn’t seem quite real to me. He, or she, still feels like a stranger to me. Maybe that’s one of the reasons I worry about it as much as I do. I don’t really know who the baby is yet.”

  Allie looked at him thoughtfully. “Would . . . would it feel more real to you, I mean, would the baby feel less like a stranger to you, if you knew its sex?”

  “Well, it’s too late for that, isn’t it? We told the ultrasound technician we didn’t want to know.”

  “No, you told the ultrasound technician you didn’t want to know. After the ultrasound was over, and you left the room, I told her I did want to know.”

  He stared at her.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, suddenly anxious. “Don’t be mad. I know we agreed beforehand we didn’t want to know. But then I was sooo curious. And I was almost positive, too, that I knew the sex from looking at the ultrasound, but then I thought, ‘what if I’m wrong,’ what if I walk around for the next four and a half months thinking it’s one sex and then it turns out to be the other and I feel so . . . disoriented.”

  “Well, I guess you can’t help what you saw,” Walker said, absorbing this new information. “Were you, uh, right about the baby?”

  “I was. And I thought about telling you, too. But you seemed so set on not knowing that I decided to keep it to myself. Do you . . . want to know now?”

  “You’re damn right I do.”

  She smiled. “You don’t want to be surprised?”

  “I will be surprised. As soon as you tell me. Now, what’d you see in that ultrasound?”

  “Actually, it was what I didn’t see on that ultrasound.”

  “You mean . . . ?”

  She nodded.

  “There was no . . . ?”

  “Nope . . . It’s a girl. She’s a girl.”

  “She’s . . . Brooke,” Walker said wonderingly. Brooke was the name they’d chosen for a girl.

  “Yes, she is,” Allie agreed. “And she’s going to be here before you know it,” she added. His hand was still resting on her belly and now she placed her hand over it in time for both of them to feel another powerful kick. Walker didn’t move his hand away this time, though. He left it right where it was.

  They sat like this in silence for a few minutes, both of them perfectly happy, and then Walker said, “Well, obviously, Wyatt and I are going to have teach her how to fish.”

  “Obviously,” Allie teased. “But, honey, what if she doesn’t like fishing?”

  “I’m not even willing to consider that possibility yet,” he said, pulling her closer.

  Chapter Seven

  “WAIT, DON’T GET out yet,” Jack said. He jumped out of the pickup he’d just parked and ran around to the other side to help first Caroline and then Daisy out. “Careful in those heels,” he reminded Caroline, giving her his arm for support. She was wearing the blue silk high-­heeled shoes she’d had dyed to match the dress she was wearing. She’d almost left the shoes and dress behind in her closet, thinking they’d be too formal for her new, streamlined wedding. But Daisy had overruled her; they were both so pretty, she’d said, and who knew when she’d have a chance to wear them again? Besides, how was it possible, her daughter had asked her, to be overdressed for your own wedding?

  Now, as they approached Judge Hilliard’s front door, Caroline felt her first flicker of nervousness, and to distract herself, she concentrated on making her way up the salt-­strewn front walkway instead. The judge and his wife lived in a converted farmhouse outside of town that looked especially pretty right now with the winter sun beginning to sink behind the pine trees that bordered its meadows.

  “Looks like the judge’s grandchildren have been visiting,” Jack said, pointing to a half-­finished snowman in the yard.

  “Ours is better,” Daisy said, under her breath, as they climbed the front steps.

  Caroline smiled and hesitated only a moment before she rang the doorbell. Then, to calm herself, she turned her attention to the wreath that hung on the front door, adjusting its slightly crooked red bow and securing one of its loose pinecones. Jack, sensing her nervousness, squeezed her hand, though she saw that he wasn’t doing much better. He kept tugging, restlessly, on the tie he was wearing with his button-­down shirt and blazer. Jack looked handsome in his wedding clothes, she thought, but also slightly out of his depth. After all, he was a man who felt most comfortable in T-­shirts, jeans, and work boots. She could count on two fingers, she realized now, the times she’d seen him in a tie, and both times had been at his weddings to Caroline.

  “Ring again, Mom,” Daisy said, and Caroline did. She’d always liked Judge Hilliard, she reflected. He’d been known to be a formidable judge in Duluth before he’d retired, but he was generous and kind, and he adored his grandchildren. And he’d been a close friend of Caroline’s father, too, whom he’d grown up with here in Butternut. It was too bad her dad would never get to know Jack as he was now. He’d died thinking badly of him. But he would be happy that she was happy, and perhaps, today, that would have to be enough for her.

  “Hello, hello, come in,” the judge’s wife, Mary Beth, said, as she swung open the door. She was a tall woman with shoulder-­length silver hair, vivid blue eyes, and an easy smile. Jack, Caroline, and Daisy each greeted her in turn before they took off their coats
and hung them on pegs in the front hall and then followed her into the living room. A fire was roaring in the fireplace there, and pine boughs were looped cheerfully around the white wooden mantel. A fat Christmas tree covered with the old-­fashioned lights Caroline remembered from her childhood dominated one corner of the room. Caroline sighed with satisfaction. The room was warm and bright and lined with windows that overlooked the farm’s snowy expanses.

  “Would you like something to drink?” Mary Beth asked them. “We have some delicious eggnog.”

  “Mary Beth makes the best virgin eggnog you’ve ever tasted,” Judge Hilliard said, coming into the room. He was a heavyset man with ruddy cheeks, and he was wearing a dark suit and a red-­and-­green tie for the occasion. He gave Caroline and Daisy each a warm hug and shook hands with Jack.

  “I’m so glad you’ve decided to do this here today. And don’t you look lovely,” he said, turning to Caroline.

  “Thank you,” she murmured, her nervousness ratcheting up, but there was Jack, again, by her side, and Daisy, smiling at her encouragingly.

  Now Mary Beth brought out a tray with glasses of eggnog and a plate of Christmas cookies, and they all sat down, and sipped a little eggnog and nibbled on the cookies until, after several minutes of this, and some polite chitchat, Judge Hilliard cleared his throat and signaled that it was time for the ceremony to begin. Then the five of them arranged themselves in front of the fireplace, with Jack and Caroline facing the judge and Daisy and Mary Beth standing on either side, and a little bit behind them. Beyond the judge was a row of windows, and through them Caroline saw that the last pinkness was draining from the sky, and that the wind was kicking up little swirls of snow. A log popped and then crackled in the fire, and the smell of nutmeg lingered in the air. This is it, Caroline thought. This is what I’ve always wanted. Jack and Daisy. My family.

  Judge Hilliard buttoned his jacket. “Shall we begin?”

  Jack and Caroline both nodded, and Jack released her arm long enough to tug nervously on his tie again. Poor man, she thought, he probably feels as if he’s being strangled. “One moment, Judge,” she said, and she reached over and unknotted Jack’s tie and slipped it off him. Then she unbuttoned the first button of his shirt, and, after folding the tie neatly, deposited it into the inside pocket of his blazer. “There, now we can begin,” she said, and Jack, both amused and grateful, leaned over and kissed her temple.

  “All right. You two have expressed a desire to recite your own vows. Do you have them prepared?”

  “They’re right here,” Daisy said—­Daisy who was both maid of honor and best man at this ceremony. She handed Jack and Caroline each a sheet of paper.

  Now Judge Hilliard cleared his throat again and spoke. “Since you both asked me several weeks ago to officiate at your wedding, I’ve been thinking a lot about the two of you. About how you’re getting a second chance, and about how rare it is in life to get one. We’re not usually given an opportunity to correct a mistake, or to right a wrong from our past. Usually, the best we can do is to be honest with ourselves, to apologize when necessary, to make peace with what we’ve done or failed to do, and to move forward.

  “I remember speaking to your father, Caroline, shortly before he died. He said he could forgive you, Jack, for leaving his daughter and granddaughter, but he wondered if you would be able to one day forgive yourself. For forgiveness is what allows us to love. And, Caroline, another woman in your place might have become bitter over the years, raising a child and running a business alone. But somehow, through all this, neither you nor Jack lost sight of the things that matter most. Both of you have been able to forgive yourselves, and each other.

  “And I’m reminded of something a poet once said about love. He said that for one human being to love another is the most difficult task given to us, but that it is also the most important. And that love is the work for which all other work is merely a preparation. I think that’s true. Love brings joy, yes, but it also brings hard work. And here you both are, together again, after all these years, ready to do this hard work, but also, to partake in this great joy. So it is with immense pleasure that I preside over your wedding now and wish you real happiness in the years ahead. Would you like to read your vows?” he asked.

  Caroline and Jack exchanged looks, and Jack nodded to Caroline to go first. Caroline looked down at the sheet of paper and noticed it was shaking slightly. She steadied her hands and began to read. “Jack, when we said our vows to each other for the first time, twenty-­one years ago, I don’t think we really understood what those vows meant and how hard it would be to uphold them. We were so young. So inexperienced. But, as Judge Hilliard just said,” she said, looking up briefly and smiling at the judge, “we have a second chance now. And this time, I believe in you. I believe in us.” Now she smiled up at Jack. “I promise to love you, as my partner, best friend, companion, and coparent. I promise to support you in times of struggle, or sickness, or disappointment or loss, and to celebrate with you all your successes and triumphs. I promise to be honest with you, to trust you, and to respect your wishes and dreams. I’m dedicated to our marriage, to our daughter, Daisy”—­here she looked over at Daisy, whose face was shining with happiness—­“and to our common happiness. I love you.”

  Now Jack looked down at his paper, but, after a moment, he crumpled it up and put it in his pocket. “I already know this by heart,” he explained to the four of them, and then he placed his hands on Caroline’s shoulders and looked into her eyes. “Caroline, I may have gone through a long period of my life where I did not love myself, but I have never stopped loving you. Ever. In my darkest hours, knowing you were in the world kept me going. I promise, now, to support you in all things, to be your best friend and your lover, to laugh with you when you are happy and to comfort you when you are sad. I vow to be your partner in parenthood and in work. And to watch over you and care for you and to protect you for as long as we both live. I vow to be a patient and loving father to Daisy, to be a trustworthy and faithful husband to you, and to be someone who will never take you or our union for granted. I give you my whole heart. I love you.”

  “Caroline and Jack, why don’t you exchange rings now,” Judge Hilliard said. “Jack, why don’t you give Caroline her ring first.” Daisy handed him the small black box with the ring inside, and he slipped a gold band onto Caroline’s ring finger. Then Daisy handed Caroline a similar box and she placed a ring on Jack’s finger.

  “Now, you may kiss the bride!” Judge Hilliard said. And as Jack took Caroline in his arms and kissed her, she felt something wet on his cheek. Jack was crying, she realized with surprise, just a moment before she began to cry herself.

  “THAT WAS ONE of the most beautiful wedding ceremonies I’ve ever witnessed,” Mary Beth said, with tears in her own eyes. Daisy, too, was crying, and as she hugged Jack and Caroline, she said, “A lot of children whose parents get divorced fantasize about this day, but, in most cases, it never comes. I guess I got lucky that way.”

  There was more hugging, and more crying, before Judge Hilliard asked Jack and Caroline to complete the marriage license by signing it. And then he signed it, and Mary Beth and Daisy signed it as witnesses.

  When the signing was over, Jack looked down at his watch and then caught Caroline’s eye. She nodded almost imperceptibly and said to the judge and Mary Beth, “Thank you so much for letting us get married this evening in your lovely home. It meant so much to us to be able to share this with you. But now I think we should be leaving, so you can enjoy your Christmas Eve, and I can get our roast in the oven.”

  Now Daisy cast a sidelong glance at Jack, who smiled back at her. He would be glad when the next half hour was over, though. He was keeping two secrets, one from Daisy and one from Caroline, and he figured that it wasn’t until they were both out in the open that he could relax and enjoy himself.

  A few minutes later, the three of them were back in the pick
up, the heat blasting and Caroline saying, “Daisy, we just need to make a quick detour before we head back to the cabin.”

  Daisy looked at Jack, questioningly. “A detour? Well, I need to stop at Pearl’s,” Daisy said, as Jack put the truck into gear and pulled out onto the street, heading toward the bus stop.

  “Why do you need to stop at Pearl’s?” Caroline asked, and now it was her turn to look confused.

  “I told Jessica I’d pick up her Christmas present for me,” Daisy said.

  “A Christmas present? Honey, it’s Christmas Eve. Can’t this wait?”

  “Well, no. That’s the point. She wants me to have it before Christmas,” and then, tapping Jack on the shoulder, she said, “Dad, where are we going?”

  “All right, both of you, just relax,” Jack said. “I’m the driver tonight, and if I want to take a little detour, that’s my prerogative.”

  Caroline and Daisy were silent now, Caroline excited and Daisy perplexed, but it wasn’t long before Daisy said, “Dad, this is the way . . . are we going to the bus stop?”

  “It’s possible,” Jack said. Caroline squeezed his hand, but Daisy said nothing. He could feel the tension in the backseat mounting, though. And when he turned into the highway rest stop that doubled as Butternut’s bus stop, and they saw a tall figure waiting there, duffel bag slung over his shoulder, he heard Daisy draw in a sharp breath. But she made no move to get out.

  “Honey,” he said, turning around, “are you going to say hello to Will or not?”

  “Oh my God,” she murmured softly, and then she bolted out of the truck and went sprinting toward him. Will dropped his duffel and held out his arms to her, and she catapulted into them with such force that Jack was afraid for a moment she would knock him over. But she didn’t. Will seemed instead to absorb her body into his, and the two of them stood there, hugging, and kissing, seemingly oblivious to the world around them.