1225 Christmas Tree Lane

“Be sure to bring the kids,” Grace told her. “Cliff is boarding a pony over the holidays. She’s very gentle, and the owner said we can give rides to anyone we want.”

“Oh! Aaron and Mia will love it. See you at two.”

Grace finished addressing the last of her Christmas cards and walked down to the mailbox to send them off, knowing they’d be late this year. She wondered how she’d gotten so far behind.

Cliff helped her prepare by setting out a plate of cookies, although Grace suspected he ate as many as he put on the plate. The cocoa was warming on the stove when a car rolled into the driveway.

Beau, her puppy and guard dog, barked, warning them of impending visitors. “Is it the Randalls or Olivia?” Grace asked.

Cliff peered out the kitchen window. “Looks like Olivia.” He reached for his coat. “I’ll be outside with Pixie, saddling her up for the Randall kids.”

“Thanks.” Grace dried her hands and hurried to the door. Olivia immediately handed her a fruitcake wrapped in aluminum foil.

“From Mom,” she announced, stooping to pet Beau. “She baked them while she was living with Jack and me, and wanted to be sure you got one.”

Grace wasn’t a fruitcake fan—except for Charlotte’s, which included green tomato mincemeat and pecans. She put it on the counter next to an evergreen spray in a narrow vase.

“That’s so thoughtful. How’s Charlotte doing?” Grace was well aware that Charlotte and Ben’s recent move into the assisted-living complex hadn’t been easy.

“She has good days and bad days.” Olivia removed her gloves, stuffing them in her pocket, then slipped off her coat and draped it across the back of a kitchen chair. “On Tuesday, Mom phoned and told me she’d made a big mistake and wanted to return to the house.”

“But Will’s living there now.”

“I didn’t remind Mom of that. I figured out what was wrong. It’s Christmas and she misses all the things that represent the holidays to her. She associates them with the house.”

“Poor Charlotte.”

“It is hard to make such a huge move at this point in her life.”

As Beau settled on the rug by the kitchen door, Grace poured them each a cup of coffee. She carried the mugs to the table, then pulled out a chair. “So what did you do?”

“I found the crèche she’d tucked away in the basement and brought it over to their apartment, along with a small Christmas tree and a few other decorations. Then we sat and chatted over tea for a while. After about an hour, Mom said she’d had a change of heart and the assisted-living complex would suit her just fine.”

“That’s a relief.” Grace knew this had been as difficult for Will and Olivia as it was for their mother and Ben. On the whole, though, the new arrangement seemed to be working out.

“I had a call earlier today,” Grace said.

“Oh?” Olivia sipped her coffee.

“Remember I mentioned that Ian and Cecilia Randall were coming to town? In fact, Beth was by just a short while ago to drop off a tree for them.”

“So they’re here?”

“Yes. Since Ian’s been transferred to the Bremerton shipyard, they came to spend Christmas with Cecilia’s father, and look for a place to live. They’re staying at the Comfort Inn.”

“When did they get in?”

“Yesterday. Cecilia phoned and they’ll be stopping by—” She paused to glance at the kitchen clock. “Anytime now,” she finished.

“Why the Christmas tree?” Olivia asked.

“You know as well as I do that Bobby Merrick isn’t going to have a Christmas tree for those kids. I explained the situation to Beth and she brought over the cutest tree you can imagine. It’s in a pot and won’t take up much space. They should be able to set it in a corner of the hotel room without a problem. She even threw in lights and a few ornaments.” Grace appreciated all the effort Beth had put into this spur-of-the-moment idea.

“She owes you big-time after you decided to keep Beau,” Olivia said.

On hearing his name, Beau scampered from his place by the door to Grace’s feet. When she picked him up and held him in her lap, Beau licked her hand, then settled down to snooze, content to be close to his mistress.

“I’m the one who owes Beth,” Grace said, brushing her hand along Beau’s soft fur. She’d resisted her affection for Beau as long as she could, but his sweet temperament had eventually won her over.

“I heard Beth has ten more puppies to find homes for now.”

“Nine,” Grace was pleased to tell her. “Beth is elated. Bruce and Rachel Peyton let Jolene have a puppy for Christmas. She’s named her Poppy.”

“I hope everything’s okay,” Olivia said, frowning slightly. “I don’t want to see them in my courtroom.”

“The situation seems to have resolved itself. When I spoke to Rachel, she said all three of them were in counseling and making great strides.” Then Grace added, “I’ll be grateful when Rachel returns to the salon. My nails are a mess without her.”

“Grace!”

“Well, it’s true.”

They heard a car door slam in the distance. Beau’s head came up and he leaped down from his resting place on Grace’s lap. Barking, he ran to the front door, tail wagging furiously.

She followed him and opened the door to Cecilia Randall.

“Merry Christmas,” Cecilia said, giving her a bright red poinsettia.

Cecilia didn’t seem to have changed since the last time Grace had seen her. True, her dark hair was shorter now, stylishly cut, but she was as slim and elegant as ever.

Cecilia broke into a big grin. “You look exactly the same as I remember.”

“I was just thinking the same thing about you.” Grace set the plant on a small table near the entry. As she closed the door she glanced over at the barn. Ian and the two children were already talking to Cliff, who’d led the pony into the yard. Cliff had Pixie saddled and was introducing her to the children. Grace would serve them cookies and hot chocolate later when they came in. “Olivia’s here.”

“Oh, good! I was hoping for a chance to see her.” As Cecilia moved into the kitchen, Grace hung up her scarf and wool coat.

“Hello, hello,” Olivia said. Standing, the two women exchanged hugs.

“Sit, please,” Grace said. She took out another mug and filled it with coffee.

There was a lot of laughter and smiling as they caught up with one another, but then Cecilia grew serious. She turned toward Olivia. “I was out to see Allison this morning.” She bowed her head slightly. “Do … do you ever visit your son’s grave?” she asked in a small voice.

“Yes,” Olivia admitted softly. “On Jordan’s birthday, Justine and I put flowers by his headstone.”

“Ian and I went this morning and cleaned off her grave. The kids brought her a poinsettia.”

“It’s still difficult, isn’t it?” Olivia said, reaching across the table to squeeze Cecilia’s hand.

Grace leaned over to grab a tissue and passed it to the young woman.