Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 87990 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87990 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
“Did you make these, Meyers?” Remington frowned at the lopsided confection
“Elara and I did.”
He smiled at his granddaughter. “Thank you, angel.”
“Eat it, Pop-Pop.” She pushed his hand toward his mouth, forcing him to take a bite.
“Mmm,” he said, looking up at me with concern. “Is there milk?”
My mom carried out a tray of milk and coffee. Marta served a red velvet cake she made, which—I’m not gonna lie—totally overshadowed our cookies.
After supper, we moved to the den and watched A Christmas Story. The Davenports didn’t understand our affinity with the movie, and Barrett earned the stink eye when he called it stupid.
I survived countless fundraisers, balls, auctions, elaborate dinner parties, and mind-numbing business functions for these people. They would stomach my cheesy Christmas traditions -- even if they had to choke them down one dry swallow at a time.
Hale lifted my socked feet onto his lap and massaged my swollen ankles as I watched Ralphie suck on a bar of soap. To this day, the movie made me laugh.
Marta fussed over Elara’s new toys, as she showed them off to her. Remington and my mother chatted quietly in the dining room while Seraphina texted friends and updated her social media with holiday selfies.
There were no outsiders. Only us. And, for once, things seemed imperfectly perfect.
When the movie ended, everyone said goodnight. I forced leftovers on Remington, which confused him, so he handed them off to Marta with a mumble about being mistaken for a food bank.
“Thank you, Niña,” Marta said, accepting the doggy bag of cookies and ham then kissing me on my cheek. “You did a beautiful job. And,” she pinched my cheek, “everyone was civil.”
I smiled. Small victories shaped big changes.
My mother took Elara up for a bath and when the house was finally empty and silent, I collapsed on the couch with a satisfied sigh. I was exhausted.
“Do you regret not letting me hire a chef?”
“No,” I said stubbornly grateful for the ache in my back and the soreness of my feet. “This was perfect.”
Hale gathered up some plates and cups and carried them to the kitchen. He returned with a long, Tiffany blue gift box. “I have one more gift for you.”
“Hale…”
He sat beside me and placed it on my lap. “Open it.”
I pulled the satin ribbon, and he lifted the lid. “Oh my gosh.”
A vine of diamonds twinkled from a bed of black velvet. He pulled the necklace from the box and draped it around my neck, closing the clasp and sending shivers down my spine. I ran my hand over the diamonds and looked up at him lovingly.
“Thank you.”
He kissed my temple and hugged me close. “Merry Christmas, baby.”
After Christmas, things were quiet. That lingering magic slowly faded as the cookies disappeared and the garland yellowed, but I refused to pack up the holiday until after the New Year.
We watched the fireworks over Times Square from the penthouse of The Plaza as the ball dropped. Elara loved the sparkles and cheered every time one exploded in the sky. By twelve o’five, I was in bed and half asleep.
When we returned to the Keys, the holiday décor was packed away, and the house felt empty.
“What’s that smell?” I sniffed the air. Pregnancy had given me a bloodhound’s sense of smell.
Hale set down our bags and sniffed the air. “I don’t smell anything.”
“It’s like…” I sniffed again. “Paint.”
“Hmm. Where’s it coming from?”
I waddled to the staircase, following my nose as the scent grew stronger. “Upstairs, I think. Did you have painters come to the house while we were gone?”
He followed me up the steps. The smell was coming from the spare room. Elara ran ahead and disappeared into her playroom. I pushed open the guestroom door and stilled.
“Hale... What did you do?”
He watched my response cautiously. “Do you like it?”
The room had been transformed into a baby boho sanctuary. Natural wood furniture blended perfectly with the neutral walls painted in white and beige. Tropical plants formed an awning in the corner over a bamboo glider with a big cushion and ottoman. Darling designer clothing items hung from the bar in the closet, and wooden baskets overflowed with rattles and bottles.
It was a haven. “I love it.”
“Here, Mommy.”
I looked down at Elara and frowned as she held out a cupcake. “Oh, careful, Peanut. You can’t have food in here.” I took the cupcake out of her little hand. “Wait. Where did she get a cupcake?”
“Aunt Phina!” She pointed to the door.
I looked up at Hale suspiciously. “Is your sister here?” We had just left her in New York, so that didn’t make sense. I followed Elara into the hall when Hale stayed silent.
“Surprise!”
I staggered back into Hale’s chest. Andrew, my mother, Hale’s mother, Seraphina, Marta, and Tyler clustered outside of the new nursery. “What are you guys doing here?”