Page 47 of Postmarked December

As Sweet As Heather

She turned on the radio and gathered the supplies she’d need for the first recipe. The cabin was equipped with measuring spoons and cups, baking dishes, large bowls, a mixer… No detail had been missed.

While preheating the oven, Marion called, so she put the phone on speaker and turned down the radio.

“Merry Christmas,” she said, unwrapping a stick of butter.

“Merry Christmas! How was your night?”

“Good. I slept like a baby, tucked up here in the mountains. How about you? How are you and Anthony doing?”

“We had a conversation last night, actually. While we sat on our sofa reading, I mentioned that it had crossed my mind how much fun it would be to spend Christmas Eve focused on the magic of the season for a little one.”

Heather sighed as she put the butter in the microwave to soften it, her own thought about family surfacing again. “That was brave to bring it up. What did he say?”

“I expected an intense debate, but he was calm, and for the first time since the mention of kids, he explained himself. He told me that he was afraid.”

“Afraid? Of what?” Heather pulled a bowl out of the cabinet and added the butter.

“He didn’t have the best upbringing, and he worries he’ll fail as a father. He works all the time, and he wants to be able to devote himself to the law firm without feeling guilty.”

Heather got out the sugar. “I applaud his honesty. That gives you a starting point in therapy.”

“From what he’s told me about his childhood, he definitely wasn’t the center of his father’s world, and I think he both understands the need to work and provide for his family, and his childhood desire to have a father who could take him under his wing.”

“Those are valid feelings,” Heather said, dumping a measuring cup of sugar over the butter and combining the two.

“It’s a start, for sure,” Marion said. “How about you? Any new developments with the notes or Toby?”

“I’ve been able to do a lot of thinking, and I’ve had some closure. And I got presents this time.”

“Really? Do tell!”

As she measured flour and dumped it into the bowl, she told Marion all about the notes, the songs, and the recipes. “I have one more gift to open, but I saved it. I’m actually making sugar cookies right now, although they don’t look as fluffy as Toby’s used to.”

“Oh, I love that so much. When are you saving the last one for?”

Heather wiped her hands on the dish towel. “I’m not sure. Maybe I just want to hang onto it because I waffle between wanting to move forward and not letting go. How was your Christmas morning? Get any long-awaited gifts?”

“It was wonderful. We tore through our presents, and then I made breakfast. Anthony got me a new leather coat.”

“Fancy. Did Scarlett get anything?”

“Of course. She got a sweater that she hates and a climbing tower. Now she’s staring at me while I sit here. Anthony’s putting together his new weight bench I got him.”

Heather laughed. “Well, if you get too bored, I’m only three hours away.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

“Bring Anthony and Scarlett. But I’d take Anthony’s truck. The drive up here is snowy…”

“Good to know. Thanks for the invite. I’ll keep you posted if we change plans.”

“Seriously. It’s just me here. I’d love the company, and I could show you all the renovations.”

While she understood that it was the holidays, Heather would love nothing more than to share the cabin with people she cared about. If not now, she’d definitely make this a place to gather from here on out.

Chapter Twenty