Page 47 of Always Almost You

“Would you like to stay for tea?” Lauren asked.

“I would,” Helen said wistfully, “but tomorrow is Christmas Eve. I open early, and we’re usually busy in the morning.”

Lauren nodded. “I can’t thank you enough for including me. Tonight was exactly what I didn’t know I needed.”

“We would’ve been lost without you,” Helen replied. “You should make it an annual tradition.”

Lauren laughed. “If I didn’t live on the other side of the country ….”

“When do you fly home?”

“Late on the 26th.”

“And what are you doing on Christmas Day?” Helen asked.

Lauren looked away. She had planned to treat it like any other day. Ignore it.

“You don’t have plans, do you?”

Lauren shook her head.

“Then you’re coming to my house,” Helen declared. “I host an open house and potluck every year for anyone without family nearby—or anyone who doesn’t want to be with their family. It starts at four. People come and go. There’s no pressure, just goodwill to all.” She squeezed Lauren’s hands. “It’s the best way to be alone without being alone.”

Pumpkin gave a small, approving sigh.

“Give me your phone. I’ll put in my number and address. I live close enough for you to walk, but I’m happy to pick you up.”

Lauren handed it over.

“Think about it,” Helen said, returning the phone. “Some of the people in our group tonight will be there. You won’t be with strangers. And by tomorrow morning—I promise you—the mystery soprano will be the talk of Spring Street.”

Lauren smiled, her heart unexpectedly full. For the first time in years, Christmas didn’t feel like something to endure. It felt like something she might lean into.

She gathered up the handful of treats she’d kept to enjoy for her remaining time in Newport, and she and Pumpkin headed upstairs. When she opened her door, her checked bag sat in the middle of the room.

Lauren chuckled, shaking her head. If her bag had arrived earlier, she wouldn’t have gone shopping and wouldn’t have met Helen. She’d never have joined in the caroling or been embraced by these lovely people.

She scooped up Pumpkin and buried her nose in her fur. “I think everything’s turning out exactly as it should,” she whispered. Pumpkin lifted her muzzle and swiped Lauren’s chin with a doggy kiss.

CHAPTER 32

Mike bounded down the stairs, Buddy at his heels. Streaks of gold and magenta lined the horizon beyond the windows. The Christmas tree glowed in the darkened living room, its lights reflecting off the ornaments. The scent of freshly brewed coffee drifted from the kitchen.

“Merry Christmas, Mom,” Mike called.

His mother stood at the counter, where she sprinkled a cinnamon and brown sugar mixture over long rectangles of dough before rolling them and nestling them into a buttered pan for their second rise. “And the same to you,” she replied, glancing over her shoulder while her hands continued their practiced work. She slid one finished roll into place, then finally turned fully toward him, grinning. “Well, look at the two of you.”

“I decided it was about time I gave Gwen’s family some competition in the outrageous Christmas pajama department.” He crossed the room and kissed the top of her head. “I’m going to take this guy out real quick and then come back to feed him.”

She nodded. “I’ll have these in the proofing drawer by the time you return. Then we’ll take our coffee and sit by the tree. I want to hear everything about these pajamas.” She looked from Mike to Buddy.

By the time they returned from their brisk walk, pink-cheeked and energized, the cinnamon rolls were tucked away, and two steaming mugs waited on the counter.

Mike and his mom carried them into the living room.

“This quiet moment, just as dawn breaks, is my favorite time of Christmas Day,” his mother remarked as she settled into her chair. “It gives me time to reflect on my many blessings: my health, my home, and my children and grandchildren at my table.”

Buddy padded in behind them, licking his lips.