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“I’m glad you picked it up,” I said with a nod. “My mom would approve.”
She put her arm around my back and hugged my waist, both of our gazes pinned on the star. “She would, which is why I think she purposely set you on this path.”
“What path?” I asked, swallowing around the lump in my throat. It wasn’t sadness as much as it was acceptance that another day had passed without her.
“A path to continue to find joy in her favorite season. She left you enough information about the yard display to intrigue you in hopes you’d pick up the baton and carry on with it.”
“You don’t know that. She could have just started the design and not had time to finish it.”
“You’re right,” she said agreeably. “But she did sign it, so she must have had a plan. I only knew the Michelle she showed the world, so I’m no expert. You knew the Michelle the rest of us didn’t, and that means you already know what the truth is. I don’t need to know it. Only you do.”
I nodded as I stared at the star. “She wanted a spotlight on Mary, right?” I asked and noticed her short nod out of the corner of her eye. “Let’s give her one then.”
I freed the star from the box and carried it to the creche, holding it to the peak while she stood on the sidewalk. “It fits perfectly,” she said, her voice carrying on the breeze. Her words were like a song and my heart hurt a little bit less in my chest for an instant. Until I remembered the truth that I was hiding from her.
“From what the box says,” she said, walking up to me, “there are different options for the lights. You can make each level do ten different things, so we’ll have to read the directions. It also has instructions on the best way to hang it up. I’ll grab the box for you.”
“I don’t need the directions. I know how to hang it, they made it obvious,” I said, grabbing my hammer and a hook from the toolbox.
I busied myself putting up the hook while she ran to the garage and grabbed the box anyway. When she came back, I had busied myself with hanging the star.
“The box says you should anchor it for wind,” she pointed out after I’d hung it. “See?” she said, pointing at the box just as a stiff breeze came along and the star nearly flew into the sky.
I grabbed it and held it down. “You better read it to me, so we can do it immediately.”
She walked me through how to tie it all down to the creche, and how to hide the tie-downs, then we stood back and admired it. “It came with a remote,” she said, holding it up. “You can cycle through the options for the lights by hitting the center of the round button.” She started pressing it until I grabbed her hand and stopped her.
“That one.”
The center of the star was lit with a single bright bulb while the rest of the lights around the edges were lit, but dim.
“It casts the perfect glow on Mary,” she whispered, dropping her hand to her side.
I wrapped my arm around her shoulders and glanced up at the sky until I found the Christmas star. There was a smile on my face, even if there were tears in my eyes, because Mom had sent me an angel on this earth, and she would be the reason I managed to get through the next month without crumbling. I pressed my lips to her temple in hopes Indie understood how much she meant to me.
I trudged through the door and tossed my keys on the side table before I shrugged out of my coat.
“You’re home,” Lance said from the doorway. “You look exhausted.”
“I am, and it’s only two p.m.”
“Yeah, but you’ve been baking for fourteen hours.”
“It’s true,” I agreed walking toward him until he caught me around my shoulders and held me against him for a moment. I could have fallen asleep right there if he hadn’t released me almost instantly. “But all the pies and breads are baked for tomorrow and the cookies and cakes are ready for Friday. I think I can officially take a break until early Friday morning.”
“You can’t work too long on Friday. You have to be rested to light the tree.”
I patted his chest and then walked to the kitchen. “I know. I’ll do my manager thing for a few hours and then come back here and nap before the big event.” I rattled around in the fridge until he grabbed the door.
“What are you looking for, Indie?”
I glanced up at him. “I don’t know. Fast food. I’m hungry, but have no desire to cook.”
“Good thing you live with one then. Move aside, bakery girl.”
“Bakery girl?” I asked, laughter on my lips. “Fine, kitchen boy. The fridge is yours.”
He winked before he started unloading stuff from the fridge and setting it out on the counter. “Wait until you see what this kitchen boy can do.”
