A Merry Little Christmas: 1225 Christmas Tree Lane / 5-B Poppy Lane. Debbie Macomber
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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