Dear Santa(39)
“Sure.” Lindy didn’t have any other plans, and Peter had asked her several times already when they would be going. “That sounds great. Are you sure you can get away?”
“I’ll make it work,” he said.
Lindy knew Billy had been putting in a lot of extra hours because of the holidays. He needed the break. “If it doesn’t work that you can get the time off, I’ll understand. What’s important is you and the Wine Press.” She meant that from her heart. “We have all next week,” she reminded him.
“Seven days doesn’t seem near long enough,” he said. “I’m already dreading the thought of you returning to Seattle.”
No matter what her decision was, Lindy realized, she would need to go back.
Billy closed his eyes as if the news was unwelcome. “I guess it’s wrong of me to want you to stay.”
“Not wrong, Billy. It makes me happy you feel that way. It’s just that Seattle is where I live.”
He lowered his head. “I don’t know how often I’ll be able to get away, especially on a weekend.”
“I know.” She was well aware of the limitation with him owning and operating the Wine Press. He needed to be available to his staff and customers on the two busiest days and nights of the week. His day off was Wednesday, and it was highly unlikely he would be able to drive to Seattle and back on the same day.
Lindy knew it would be a mistake to mention Peggy’s idea. If she chose to not start her own small business, he might consider this her way of saying she wasn’t interested in them as a couple. That couldn’t be further from the truth.
Lindy left the restaurant and then drove home, her thoughts heavy. She shook them off, determined to make the most of Christmas Eve. How could she not, seeing she was with her family for the biggest celebration of the year: the birth of baby Jesus.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Her mother served a light dinner of sliced meats and cheeses so they would be ready for the Christmas Eve church service. Traditionally, her parents invited their Sunday school class over, following the church service, for cookies and hot cider. Her mother had been baking cookies for weeks, storing them in the freezer so she could send a plate heaping with an assortment of cookies home with each guest.
Chad, Ashley, and Peter were set to meet them at the church before heading over to Ashley’s parents’ house for her family’s celebration. Ashley had four siblings, and it was sure to be chaotic and fun.
Even before entering the church building, Lindy could hear the choir singing. The steepled church was brightly lit, both inside and out. The manger scene was arranged in the snow outside the building, and a light dusting started to fall in lazy, wind-tossed flakes, floating down from the heavens.
Glancing up, she marveled at how perfect the night was. The burden of the future seemed far removed. She knew that whatever her decision, it didn’t need to be made that night, or tomorrow. As she looked toward the babe in the manager, she knew He would guide her.
Christmas Eve was a time of joy and celebration. A time for family. A time to count her blessings, of which there were many. It hadn’t been an easy year, and she was just as glad to put it behind her, and yet there was much for which to be grateful. It had just taken her awhile to see and appreciate it.
The service started with the singing of long-familiar Christmas carols. “O Holy Night,” “Away in a Manger,” and “We Three Kings” were some of Lindy’s favorites. She noticed some of the children were already dressed in their pajamas and slippers. She remembered coming to the evening service in her own nightclothes, in what seemed another lifetime ago.
After the Christmas Eve service, she and Chad would be eager for bed, knowing that if they went to sleep right away, the morning would come quicker, and they would be able to open their presents from Santa. Chad had still been young enough to believe in Santa, and for his sake, Lindy pretended to believe, too. She wanted her little brother to have the same wonderful Christmas experiences she’d had.
The church service was everything she knew it would be. As she walked out of the church, her gaze once again went to the life-sized Nativity scene on the snow-covered lawn. There, kneeling next to the manger, was the man she readily recognized as the Santa she’d met earlier that day. She turned to tell her mother, but when she looked back, he was gone.
“Lindy, did you need something?” her mother asked.
She shook her head. “I thought I saw someone I knew. Guess not.”
From the church, several families headed to the Carmichaels’ house. It wasn’t long before every spot in both the living and family rooms were taken. Lindy helped serve, enjoying the myriad conversations as she went about the room, refilling cups and passing around a plate of cookies.
“It’s so good to see you, Lindy.” She heard that again and again, and it never grew old. Most of these friends of her parents were ones Lindy had known nearly her entire life. They were as close to family as one could get without a blood connection.
It was after eleven before the house was quiet once again. Lindy sent her parents to bed, as they were overly tired from the day’s activities. She cleared the plates and cups, filled the dishwasher and set it to wash, then headed toward her bedroom, too. Sitting up in bed, she looked over at her nightstand and saw the letter she’d written to Santa just a week earlier.