Page 55 of All in for Christmas

I’m falling, falling through an endless dark stretch.

Then I land with a springy bounce in a safe, sheltered nest. I stir under the blankets, basking in the cozy vibe.

Someone snuggles against my back, his strong arm wrapped around me, holding me tightly.

The scent of cinnamon and cloves cloaks the air—along with hints of vanilla.

Nutmeg. My heart skips a beat and then it pounds harder. Am I there, or dreaming?

My eyes fly open and I’m staring at our room.

The parted bathroom door, an unruly pile of laundry, snow falling through the windows beyond the partially raised blinds.

He leans forward and kisses my shoulder.

“Morning, tiger.” That voice . Husky, caressing, familiar.

Heat floods my eyes. Dean . I shift under the covers to face him.

A smile spreads across his lips. My exceptionally handsome husband, with his smattering of morning stubble, my soul mate and my one true love.

I reach up to touch his face, fearing he’ll disappear. “We made it.”

“I always knew we would,” he says warmly. “That’s why I asked you to marry me.”

My hand darts to my chest and my fingers comb the front of Dean’s large T-shirt, but my necklace is still gone. Maybe lost to eternity forever. “So you don’t remember?”

Dean nestles me in his arms and kisses me. “Of course I do. Every precious moment.” Of this reality. Oh no. He has no recollection of the other, but how could he? He’s been right here the whole time. But now, so have I, right? Where are my memories?

“Mommy! Daddy! Yay!” Eleanor races into the room holding her Highland cow. She jumps up onto the bed and my heart bursts with joy. “Can I ride my bike again today?” Eleanor. I’ve missed her so much.

Dean and I sit up in bed, and I tug her into my arms. Kiss the top of her head, breathe in her little girl sweetness. Hug her so tightly that she squirms and giggles. “Of course you can.” I dart a look at Dean. “So today is?”

“The day after Christmas,” he says cheerfully. “December twenty-sixth.”

Yes. I’ve returned to this world exactly when I left it—without missing a day.

And I don’t want to miss another day of being here with Dean and our precious family.

My heart aches at the hole in my past. I remember nothing before December twentieth, when I came here the first time.

But no, I won’t be sad. I’ve got the beautiful present to hang on to forever and will treasure all the new memories we make.

Henry toddles into the room with a cheery gleam.

“Merry Kissmas!” Our baby boy. My heart aches with affection.

How I’ve missed him, too. He lumbers toward the bed, his Nessie hanging by the tail, and Dean scoops him up and into his lap.

He hugs Henry close and kisses his head.

“I think ‘Kissmas’ was yesterday, buddy.”

“O-tay!” Henry croons.

My heart melts and I hug Eleanor tighter. Reach out and stroke Henry’s chubby little boy cheek. My babies. I’m here—and I’m never leaving you again.

“ Woof! Woof! ”

Scout. My heart brims over. Our sweet shaggy pup .

Scout bounds into the room, but his bark sounds more like “ Moof! Moof! ” He’s got something clenched in his teeth and it’s not our morning paper. It’s shiny and narrow, like an ultra-thin cord, dangling from his mouth and twirling. Wait.

Scout jumps up on the bed and sits down in front of me, squeezing in between me and Dean while pawing across the blankets. A delicate gold chain hangs from the dog’s mouth and my ruby heart pendant glints in the morning light. I can scarcely believe it.

Dean stares at the jewelry. “What do you know? You must have lost it somewhere in the house yesterday during all the Christmas activity.”

I hold out my hand and Scout cranes his head forward, opening his mouth and releasing the necklace. It drops into my palm, its gold chain coiling like a silky ribbon, the pretty ruby heart resting on top.

“Thanks, Scout.” I pet him, and he hops off the bed, retreating from the room. A recollection tugs at me, and I gape at the open door to the hall.

When Dean and I toured this real estate offering in the other dimension, I thought I heard Scout elsewhere in the house while we were in the kitchen.

Of course. Scout was in the other realm briefly, hunting for his family.

He must have retrieved my necklace from that world, just as surely as he brings in the morning paper.

My eyes water when I grasp the truth. Scout wanted us to come home.

He fought against nearly impossible odds, forcing his way through the fog of a realm that had gone poof .

Because our pup wanted what we did, a Christmas miracle of the heart.

I pass the necklace to Dean so he can help me put it on, and he closes his fingers around it.

“Huh.” He blinks and stares at me. “That’s weird.”

“What is?”

He furrows his brow. “I just had a sudden blast of memories, but not from here. A snowman in a park? A bunch of poinsettia plants in a coffee shop? Walton’s faculty holiday party?

But you’re there, and you’re a teacher—what?

” He reads my eyes, questioning. “Paige,” he asks cautiously, “did something happen between us in a, um”—he swallows hard—“different place?”

“ Yes .” I thank the heavens for this second chance and the opportunity to share everything I’ve learned on my travels with Dean. “I can’t wait to tell you all about it.”

“So wait.” He blows out a breath. “When you woke up after the margaritas, and said you came from another world…” He blows out a breath. “Oh wow.”

“Yes, Dean. Yes,” I whisper, so relieved he can see it. Even if it’s just a glimpse into my alternate reality, that lays a foundation for me telling him more. I grin and pivot away from him, holding up my hair. It feathers through my fingers in layers. Yay!

Dean closes the necklace clasp at the base of my neck and the pretty red ruby heart pendant rests on the front of my sleep shirt. My necklace—of course. This link between the two realms binds us, just like the love in our hearts.

“It wasn’t a bad life, was it?” Dean asks dreamily, as if he’s putting bits and pieces together. Getting little snatches here and there of what might have been, if he’d left for Puerto Rico. He peeks at the necklace then grins. “But this one’s better.”

“So much better,” I sigh, my spirit soaring like a kite. Or maybe a shooting star. No, a comet. The most spectacular kind. I lay my hand across my ruby heart pendant and memories flit through my mind, circling around and around one another.

Dean sweeps me into his arms. We’re college age.

Tears stream down his cheeks and mine.

“I’ll never leave you,” he says and kisses me.

Images flip, flip, flip.

I’m with Dean on our wedding day in his parents’ backyard. He’s so handsome in a suit and tie, and I wear a white dress. Mom holds my flowers, and my friends are all here.

Flip, flip.

“Yeow-wee!!!” Holy cow. It wrenches, but Eleanor’s born!

“It’s a girl!” the doctor says.

I beam up at Dean and hold our baby in my arms.

Eleanor.

Another memory flip in a truly dizzying fashion.

Scout’s a floppy-eared pup, dragging the paper through the door flap.

It’s nearly as big as he is.

Flip, flip.

Dean proudly cradles our newborn son. “I like Henry,” he says. “It suits him.”

Flip, flip, flip.

I barely get the button done on my too-tight white jeans.

“Do these make me look fat?”

Dean winces and says, “Hon, you just had a baby.”

I burst into tears and race into the bathroom, slamming shut the door.

Dean pounds on it from the bedroom side. “Paige? Sweetheart? I’m sorry!”

Flip, flip.

Ow! I glance over my shoulder at the tattoo artist.

“You said it wouldn’t hurt.”

“Dean.” I gasp happily. “The trimmings.”

He stares at my necklace and smirks. “We’ve got a lot to talk about, don’t we?”

I laugh with giddy delight. “Yes.”

Eleanor beams up at me in her cute pigtails, her dark eyes shining, and Henry wears his happy little grin beneath his mop of golden hair.

Dean and I move closer in our cozy warm bed and form a giant family hug with our kids.

My heart’s so full it’s bursting. I’m so glad I haven’t forgotten about that other world and what might have been.

I’ve learned so much from my experiences.

An unforgettable lesson in what I value most, love and family.

Scout trots back into the room carrying the morning paper in his mouth, his wagging tail held high. He pounces up on the bed, sits back on his haunches, and drops the newspaper roll down in front of Dean. Dean’s joyful laughter fills the room.

“Good boy!” he says and pats Scout’s head.

Mary Christmas’s words chime through my mind like tinkling holiday bells.

Everything in its place and all things in good time.

I can’t wait to see what the future brings.