1225 Christmas Tree Lane

Chapter 2

Earlier in the month, Grace had been pleasantly surprised to get a phone call from Cecilia and Ian Randall, who were stationed in San Diego. They phoned again once they got into town.

“Would it be possible for Ian and me to stop by and visit?” Cecilia asked.

“Cecilia, of course! How are you? I hoped I’d get a chance to see you and Ian and the kids.” Grace had a hundred questions. The young couple had always been close to her heart, and she was thrilled at the prospect of having them back in the area.

“Remember I told you the navy transferred Ian back to Bremerton?” Cecilia said. “He’s going to be working in the shipyard instead of on the aircraft carrier. Cedar Cove feels like home to us, so we’re really happy about coming back.”

“That’s wonderful!” The Randalls reminded Grace of when she and her first husband, Dan, had purchased their house almost forty years ago. They’d been young, too, with a child and another on the way. Maryellen was a toddler and Grace had been pregnant with Kelly, and 204 Rosewood Lane had been their first real home. In fact, Grace had lived in that house most of her adult life. She’d raised her children there, buried her husband and learned to deal with life as a widow all on Rosewood Lane. The place held a great deal of sentimental value for her and she hadn’t been able to let it go, even after marrying Cliff Harding. So she’d decided to rent it out.

The Randalls had been ideal tenants, but the navy had transferred them all too soon. Over the years, Grace had seen a number of renters come and go. Faith Beckwith had resided there for a while; she’d had a difficult time with break-ins perpetrated by the tenants preceding her. That was long past now and the culprits were behind bars, thanks to Sheriff Davis. The most recent renters had left, and the house was sitting empty.

“I think I mentioned that Ian has leave over Christmas.

We flew out here yesterday. We came to see my dad and look for housing.” She paused. “Dad lives in a small apartment, so we’re staying at the Comfort Inn.”

Grace had assumed as much, based on their previous conversation. And other than the Beldons’ B and B, the Comfort Inn was the only hotel in downtown Cedar Cove.

“Do you have a car?” she asked. “A rental.”

“Come over today if you can and we’ll chat.” “What time?”

“Two,” she suggested. “Olivia is planning to stop by around then, and I know she’d love to see you.” “Judge Lockhart … I mean, Judge Griffin?” “Yes.”

“I’d love to see her, too. Ian and I owe her so much.”

Indeed they did owe a debt of gratitude to Olivia, as did many others in the community. Despite her decades as an attorney and then a family court judge, Olivia had never become jaded or cynical. She looked at each case individually. Over the years she’d made some controversial judgments. In Ian and Cecilia’s case, she’d denied their divorce. That decision had caused quite a stir in the courtroom and around town. She’d used a technicality, urging the couple to try harder and not to give up on each other so soon.

As it happened, Jack Griffin, the new Chronicle editor, had been visiting the court that day and had written an article about her decision, which had greatly embarrassed poor Olivia. Nevertheless, his inflammatory piece had been the start of their relationship. And look where that had led! Grace couldn’t hold back a smile.

“We’ll be there at two,” Cecilia said.

“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.

“Do you still cry?” Cecilia asked, unmistakable pain in her voice. The loss of her infant daughter was an anguish that might fade but would never disappear. Grace knew that from her own experience, losing Dan.

“Yes,” Olivia said. “We don’t forget our children. Ever. We can’t. There’s been a gaping hole in my heart—in my life—ever since we lost Jordan. He was only thirteen….” She cleared her throat. “I’ve chosen to fill that hole with love.”

“I have, too,” Cecilia whispered. “Love for Ian and our other children. Both Aaron and Mia know they had an older sister. On Allison’s birthday last year, Aaron wanted to bake her a cake.”

“Did you?”

Cecilia nodded. “It never felt right to leave Allison when Ian was transferred. I’m so glad we’re moving back.”

“We’re glad, too,” Grace told her. Then because she was afraid they’d all end up weeping, she changed the subject. “So, you’re looking for a house….”

“Oh, yes.” Cecilia wiped the tears from her eyes and straightened. “Ian and I want to talk to you about the house on Rosewood Lane.”

Grace smiled happily. “Well, as I said, my last renters left when their lease expired, and the house is empty. Cliff and I would be delighted to rent it to you.”

Olivia checked her watch. “Sorry to rush off, but Justine needs me to baby-sit this afternoon.”

“Of course.” Grace stood, too, and hugged her friend. “If I don’t see Charlotte, make sure you thank her for the fruitcake.”

“Will do.”

“See you Christmas Eve at Noelle’s birthday party, right after church.” She briefly explained, for Cecilia’s benefit, who Noelle was and that she’d been born here at the ranch a year earlier.

“Yes, see you then,” Olivia confirmed. She put on her coat and gloves and wished Cecilia a merry Christmas. Grace walked her out, returning to find Cecilia by the back door, looking at her children, who were taking turns on the pony. “About the house,” Cecilia began, moving back to the kitchen table. “Ian and I—”

A polite knock sounded at the door, but before Grace could reach it, Ian Randall came inside. “Hello, Grace,” he said warmly. “Cliff said I should go on in. He’s taking the kids into the barn to feed the horses.” Giving an obligatory bark, Beau trotted over to him and Ian crouched down to stroke the sleek, soft head.

“They’re going to love that,” Cecilia said. “Aaron is such an animal person.” She might as well have said, And so is Ian.

“Would he like a puppy for Christmas?” Grace rushed to ask, knowing how desperate Beth was to find good homes.

“He’d love one,” Cecilia replied, “but with the move, a puppy—”

“He can pick one out. They’re at a tree farm owned by Beth Morehouse, a friend of ours. If you get a puppy, Cliff and I can keep him here with Beau until you’re back in Cedar Cove.”

Cecilia and Ian exchanged a glance. “That’s too much to ask.”

“Not at all. And it would be a huge help to Beth. Someone abandoned ten puppies on her porch and she needs good homes for them before Christmas.”

“Aaron’s responsible, and he’d love it,” Cecilia prompted. “Besides, we’d be rescuing a puppy. What do you think?” She looked at her husband, obviously attracted to the idea.

Ian shrugged. “A puppy for Aaron would be a great gift … if you’re positive you don’t mind keeping him for a few weeks.”

“We wouldn’t mind in the least,” Grace assured him.

“Okay, that’s settled. We’ll go and see your friend, pick out a puppy.” Ian pulled out a chair and sat down next to his wife. “Did Cecilia mention the house on Rosewood Lane?”

“We’d just started to talk about it,” Grace said. “I told her it’s available and we’d love to rent it to you again.”

Ian shook his head.

“You don’t want it?” This surprised Grace because she remembered how fond Cecilia had been of the place and all the small homey changes she’d made. “My mistake. I’m sorry,” she said with some embarrassment.

“Actually, Cecilia and I were wondering,” Ian said, clasping his wife’s hand, “if you and Cliff would consider selling us the house.”

“Selling,” Grace repeated. “Oh … I hadn’t thought of that.”

“I brought it up to Cliff,” Ian continued, “and he said the decision was yours.”

“Well … yes, I suppose it is,” Grace murmured. Her immediate reaction was not to sell. Her emotional attachment to the house on Rosewood Lane remained strong. “Can I think about it and get back to you sometime in the next couple of days?” “Of course,” Ian said.

The back door opened again and Cliff came in with the two children. Aaron was instantly on the floor, playing with Beau, and Mia ran to tell her mother all about riding Pixie.

The rest of the visit passed in a blur for Grace, preoccupied as she was with Ian’s request. She served cocoa and cookies and presented the Randalls with the small Christmas tree, which thrilled the kids, but she was hardly aware of anything that was said. The young family left soon afterward.

Grace and Cliff waved them off and returned to the house.

“From the look on your face, Ian must have said something about wanting to buy the house.” Cliff walked over to the coffeepot and refilled his mug. He leaned against the counter as he waited for her reply.

“He did.”

“And?”

“I … don’t know if I can give it up.”

“Then tell them it’s only available to rent,” he said matter-of-factly.

“But … this is exactly the type of family I’d want to sell the house to.” Grace found she couldn’t keep still. She walked over to the refrigerator and opened it for no reason. Closing it, she circled the kitchen table.

“I understand.” Cliff came up behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders. “It’s a big decision.”

Grace exhaled slowly. “It is … but I think it’s time,” she said with sudden resolve. “My old life was on Rosewood Lane. My new life is here with you—and Beau.”

Lying on the braided carpet beneath the kitchen table, Beau raised his head and barked once. Apparently, he was in full agreement.

Chapter 3

Two down and eight puppies to go.

Saturday morning, the day before Christmas Eve, Aaron Randall—as well as his parents and little sister—had stopped by and picked out a puppy. Grace, bless her, had agreed to keep tiny Poko until the Randalls returned to Cedar Cove in the second week of January. He was with her now, as it would’ve been too difficult to look after the puppy in the hotel room.

The Randalls’ rental car pulled out of the driveway just as another vehicle turned in.

Kent. Obviously driving a rental, too. It was a bright blue sedan, not his usual style at all.

It couldn’t be anyone else. He’d phoned shortly after he’d arrived at Thyme and Tide, and said he was on his way over.

Despite herself, Beth felt another wave of excitement. She hadn’t slept all night, trying to make sense of his unexpected need to connect as a family again. Granted, he saw their daughters more often than she did, since both attended college in California. But all four of them together at Christmas … It had been a long time. Even if, as she suspected, Bailey and Sophie were involved in this, Kent didn’t have to go along with it. But he had….

Still, she wondered if she was reading more into the situation than it warranted; all the same, she considered scenarios of what this Christmas would be like. Then there was Ted. He was a close friend, and while they’d shared little more than a few chaste kisses, the relationship looked promising. She felt it and thought he did, too.

Beth remembered Christmases when the girls were young. She remembered laughing with Kent, the two of them shushing each other as they stayed up half the night assembling tricycles and later bicycles and then fell into bed exhausted. In an hour or two, Bailey and Sophie would be jumping up and down on the mattress, shrieking that Santa had come.

One Christmas Eve they’d gone for a sleigh ride in freshly fallen snow, snuggling under a blanket, keeping one another warm. Kent had stolen a few hot kisses while the girls giggled and hid their eyes, complaining that it was “yucky” to see their parents kiss.

Beth smiled. They’d had some really good years together. Somewhere along the way, though, their lives had changed. No, their marriage had. They’d grown apart. It wasn’t any big disagreement, no betrayal or unforeseen revelation. Instead, an accumulation of small slights and annoyances had eventually grown from a small distance into a huge crevasse. One that had deepened and widened over the years until they’d been unable to reach across it….

Was it possible? Did Kent regret the divorce? Beth had more than a few regrets herself. They’d both been so stubborn, so unreasonable, so eager to prove they didn’t need each other anymore.

Perhaps if they’d been the kind of people who yelled and stomped around the house, everything might have gone differently. Instead, once the subject of divorce had been broached, they’d been so darned polite. Attorneys said there was no such thing as a “friendly” divorce, but that hadn’t been Beth’s experience. Theirs had been not only friendly but accommodating and fair. But maybe that was just on the surface. Maybe going ahead with the divorce was unfair—to both of them.