THE ROAD NOT TAKEN
Serendipity, Indiana--Book Six
Copyright 2016, Magdalena Scott
Brad
turned the car into the lane of the Christmas tree farm, and some of the stress
built up during the long drive from Florida to Indiana fell away.
Home.
No matter
how long I lived away from here, the peaceful feeling always settled over me
when I returned to Serendipity.
From
the placid scene of the hilly farm covered with evergreens and a thin skiff of
snow, I dragged my eyes back to my husband. “Thank you again for making the
trip, Brad. I know it’s not your favorite place to spend the holidays.”
He
nodded, his eyes on the gravel lane. “You’re welcome, again, Francie. Where
else am I going to spend Christmas than with my son and wife?”
That
sounded simple, but he and I both knew better. Our marriage was in trouble. I
wasn’t sure how or when it had begun to deteriorate, but I feared this was our
last Christmas together, unless something drastic happened to turn things
around.
Heading
up the driveway, we passed my sister Carla’s house on the right. On the left
was the small acreage my parents gave me when I turned twenty-one. Unlike Carla
and our brothers Jim and David, I had never built my dream home here. Had never
lived the life as an adult that looked so idyllic—residing on a Christmas tree
farm, selling trees and working in the Christmas shop during the holidays.
It
was hard work much of the year, but because we worked together and our family
was close-knit, the effort was always worthwhile. Time spent with customers in
the Christmas shop was the easy part—more like play than work to me, with the
CDs providing holiday music, families shopping together… Okay, sometimes that
part was stressful to endure, depending on how well the kids and adults
behaved.
After
Dad died, every facet of the farm business changed. At first, my brother Jim
had tried to shoulder all of Dad’s responsibilities, but he eventually had to
hire help so he could keep his law practice going. Mom, who had always been in
charge of the Christmas shop, helped Jim in overseeing the farm’s operations.
She also ran the relatively new sideline—the tiny cabin B&B. I leaned my
forehead on the cool glass of the passenger side window, feeling anew our
family’s loss.
Brad
parked the Prius in front of the house I’d grown up in, as close to the edge of
the gravel pad as possible, since the parking area is also used by customers
who come to cut their own trees and peruse the shop.
Mom
appeared on the front porch, her dog Daisy at her side. Daisy had been Dad’s,
but after his death, she became Mom’s near constant companion. I tore out of
the car and ran up onto the porch, and Mom enveloped me in a hug.
“Sweetheart,
I’m so glad you’re here.” She held me, rubbing my back as if I were a small
child. I had to steel myself to keep from crying. At last I found my voice and
pulled back a little.
“It’s
great to be here, Mom. Thanks for putting up with our last-minute decision.”
Brad
walked up the wooden porch steps and set down the first load of luggage. He
moved toward Mom and I took a step away. He hugged her briefly and kissed her
cheek. “What Francie said, Lillian. I’m embarrassed that we called you so late
to see if you have room.”
“Have
room? My goodness, of course I have room for my baby daughter and favorite son-in-law.”
The
thought flashed into my head to wonder if she would call Jared Barnett favorite son-in-law once he and Carla
got married. By that time, it was possible Brad and I would be divorced. My
breath caught, anticipating the conversation we would need to have with Joseph,
and with my family. Like the proverbial elephant in the room, the breakdown of
our relationship in the last few years had been something neither of us wanted
to talk about—even keeping it between the two people who might be able to repair
the situation. In all the hours of our drive north, we had studiously avoided
discussing anything personal. During my stints at driving, there was no
conversation at all. Brad was too focused on his phone or laptop to talk.
Mom’s
cheerful voice broke into my depressing reverie. “If I had known ahead of time
that you were coming, I wouldn’t have begun the renovations upstairs. You don’t
mind staying in one of the cabins, do you?”
Brad’s
jaw dropped, and I can only assume mine did too. He recovered more quickly
though. “No room at the inn, as they say.” He turned to me, one eyebrow cocked.
“We can be flexible, can’t we, Francie?”
“Um.
Sure. Sure, that’s not a problem.” I hadn’t spent much time in any of the
cabins that were part of the farm’s bed and breakfast business, but from what I
remembered, they were truly tiny. Was
there enough space for two people who used to be intimate life partners but no
longer were?
Mom
sighed with relief. “Oh, good. I’m so glad you don’t mind. Do you want to see
what’s going on with the rooms upstairs?”
We
abandoned our bags and followed Mom through the living room and up the stairs
to the bedroom Carla and I used to share. Mom opened the door.
Most
of the wallpaper had been scraped off, but stubborn layers of old paper remained
in patches here and there. The woodwork had been scraped too. Paint chips in a
variety of colors littered the floor. The posters and other teenage memorabilia
were long gone, no doubt. Most of all, the twin beds were missing.
“Oh.
My. Word.” I couldn’t help it, and lucky for all of us, I hadn’t let loose with
something more colorful.
Mom
put an arm around my shoulders. “It’s just a start, you know. When we’re done
here, the room will be fit for royalty. You’ll love it.” She squeezed me and
let go, stepping further into the room.
I
staggered after her.
Mom
looked thrilled with the renovation, and I didn’t dare say what I was really
thinking. “Wow. This is a surprise. I guess I was picturing new curtains, maybe
some paint.”
Brad
remained in the hallway, taking in the devastation of the room where he and I
always stayed when visiting. “Whoa. It’s major, Lillian.”
She
hurried on, unaware of our shock. “It was time, I’d say. I had lots of help
deciding which way to go, as you can imagine. Carla, and Jared’s daughter
Katie, both had ideas about everything. Katie’s very creative. She’s promised
to help me with the sewing, since Carla is so busy at her dress shop. Katie is
learning to machine embroider too. She’s trying out her new skill on the
coverlet and matching curtains. But, you know, at fourteen, she has lots going
on at school and extracurricular events.”
“That’s
nice,” I muttered.
Her
face fell, and not wanting to hurt her feelings, I pasted a smile on mine.
Something was different with Mom today, but I wasn’t sure what.
“Don’t
get me wrong. I’m sure it’ll be nice. I’m just surprised.”
“There
didn’t seem to be any reason to leave it as a museum to you and Carla when
you’ve had your own homes all these years. That’s why I sent you the boxes of
things from the closet, remember? I found a few other items in the attic too.
They should fit into your trunk for the return trip. Carla took the beds to put
in the room that will be Katie’s whenever Jared and Carla finally tie the knot.
You remember I asked if you wanted any of the furniture, right, Francie?” Her
voice was filled with concern about my reaction to the room.
“Yes.
Yes, I remember, and that’s totally fine. And—let me think—you’re going to rent
this room out as part of the B&B?”
“Well,
that’s a possibility. Jim and David are against the idea. Those boys are
overprotective of me and insist the B&B guests only belong in the tiny
cabins. I think if it were up to them, I wouldn’t serve breakfast during tree
season at all.”
“Why’s
that, Lillian?” Brad was leaning against the doorframe, handsome and casual—not
flipping out as I felt myself doing.
Mom
scraped with her thumbnail at a piece of wallpaper that refused to budge.
“Because there isn’t a way to serve them in the Christmas shop during tree
season, and I host breakfast in my dining room instead. I figure it gets the
good china out of the cabinet one month each year. Really, it’s easier to have
them in the dining room than to carry everything to the shop building across
the parking area.
But Jim and David don’t understand that part.”
“What’s
their room like?” I blurted out.
“Their
room? Oh, the boys’ old room. Come and see.” We followed her across the hall.
The bedroom David and Jim had shared was always a boys-only territory which
historically housed a variety of creepy pets, concert posters, and their sports
trophies.
We
strolled through the large bedroom, noting a variety of stuffed Santa figures,
Nativity sets, and a big plastic Rudolph suspended from the ceiling smiling
down at us.
Brad
chuckled, shaking his head. “Wow. Salute to Christmas, huh?”
Mom
nodded. “Pretty much. Can anyone guess who worked with me on the plan for this
room?”
Our
son Joseph appeared from the hall, strode to each of us in turn and
administered bone-crushing hugs. “Hey, guys. What do you think of my room?
Grandma said since I’m the one who stays here the most, I could decide what it
looks like.”
Evidently,
our recent college grad was more of a Christmas junkie than either of us
realized.
“It’s…
It’s very Christmassy.” That was all I had. What it was, in my opinion, was
overdone to a massive degree. “How much of this glows in the dark?”
Joseph
bounded over onto the messily pulled-together bed. “Not that much. And I sleep
with my eyes closed anyway. Only thing I miss from the way it used to be is the
bunk beds, but Matthew has those now, which is awesome.”
Mom
crooked her finger. “Let’s go downstairs and I’ll get you something to eat. Do
you need a nap before dinner?” She was leading the way down the steps not
watching the reaction from Brad or me.
Thank
goodness.
~*~
THE ROAD NOT TAKEN is one of 17 holiday romances available in SWEET CHRISTMAS KISSES 3!
~*~
Magdalena Scott is a USA Today Bestselling Author, and writes small town sweet romance and women's fiction. Visit her website to find out more about her, and her two small town series. www.magdalenascott.com
Have you ever had/heard of Christmas pizza? The idea popped into my head when I was brainstorming ideas for my novella in the Sweet Romance Reads authors' Sweet Christmas Kisses 5 bundle.
