Page 21 of Christmas Treasures (Sugarville Grove #6)

“All right, ladies, bear with me while I figure out the light situation.” Max untangled the strands, fingers working through knots formed from hasty packing the previous January.

He really should be better organized. His mother’s Christmas decorations were stacked neatly and labeled in plastic bins.

Maybe this year he would do the same. If he were going to be Bianca’s father then he had to step up and be a full adult instead of the nomadic, fun-seeking man he’d been before he met Lucia in Italy.

He strung the lights all through the branches as evenly as possible. When the feeble tree had as many lights as it could handle, he stood back, ready to turn them on, but paused for a dramatic moment. “Are we ready?”

“Yes, yes,” Bianca said in English, bouncing on her toes.

He flipped the switch, hoping there were no bulbs that needed replacing. They were in luck. The lights shimmered in the dim room.

Bianca clapped. “Guarda come brilla!” Look how it sparkles!

Charlie had started to pull ornaments from the tub, exclaiming over a glass icon he’d picked up during his travel to Greece. “Max, you have some gorgeous pieces in here.” She held up a glass candy ornament he’d gotten when he visited Murano.

“That’s from my time in Venice,” Max said.

“Murano?” Charlie asked. “Where they make all the hand-blown glass?”

“That’s right. Every city I went to, I chose an ornament to come home with.”

He told them where each of his precious trinkets had come from.

There was a ceramic windmill from the Netherlands and a small Eiffel Tower from Paris.

A cuckoo clock from Switzerland and a miniature matryoshka, or nesting doll as it was known here, from Eastern Europe.

Bianca loved the woolen sheep ornament from Ireland, holding it against her cheek before putting it on the tree .

When the bin was empty, Bianca pulled out her two new ornaments from their little brown bag. She held them up to admire them before asking if she could add them to the tree.

Max nodded and swallowed against the sudden tightness in his throat, fighting the familiar burn behind his eyes. “Please do.”

Next, Charlie looped ribbon around the branches. When she was done, they all agreed the tree was properly trimmed.

Not the perfect tree by any stretch, but he loved it anyway. Bianca had been right to choose this one. The tree was like the three of them. A little battered. Some broken parts. But here just the same, fighting for a new life.

Bianca stood back, hands on her hips in a posture so like her mother that it made his chest constrict. Then she stepped closer again and gently adjusted the angel, speaking in Italian to Charlie.

“She says now it’s ready,” Charlie said. “And that she would like to set up the Nativity scene.”

Max nodded, looking around the room for the perfect location. “Here, we’ll put it on this shelf. I’ll take out the books.” He cleared a spot on a low shelf so that Bianca could arrange the biblical scene herself. “There. All set.”

Bianca knelt in front of the low bookshelf, her small hands carefully unwrapping each figure from tissue paper.

She placed them one by one, a smile tugging at her lips.

She held the last angel the longest, her thumb tracing the curve of its wire halo before setting it just behind the stable roof.

When she finally placed the tiny cradle in the center, her fingers lingered on the smooth wood.

She looked up at Max and said in English, “Home now.”

Tears pricked his eyes, but he managed to keep it together, even when Bianca got to her feet and slipped her hand into his. Charlie took his other hand, and the three of them gazed down at the Nativity scene. This was the true meaning of Christmas. Family. Faith. Hope. And peace.

“Tomorrow is my mom’s annual cookie decorating party,” Max said to Charlie. “Will you come with us?”

Charlie met his gaze, and for a second he thought she would decline. Instead, she nodded. “I’m this far into Christmas. I might as well go all the way.”

“That’s the spirit,” Max said.

On his parents’ porch, Max shifted the cookie tins in his arms as he held his parents’ front door open for Bianca and Charlie to step inside.

Grace’s voice called out from the kitchen, clear and commanding. “Max, is that you? We’re in the kitchen.”

“Their whereabouts aren’t exactly a mystery,” Max said. Charlie looked slightly pale. “Don’t worry. My family won’t bite.”

“I’m nervous for some silly reason,” Charlie whispered.

“No need to be nervous. It’s chaos in there,” Max said, helping Bianca out of her puffy red coat. “You’ll be lucky to get a word in.”

“Yes, it does seem loud,” Charlie said as Bianca moved closer to her.

“It often is when the Hayes family is involved.” Max hung their jackets in the closet and gestured toward the kitchen. “You two ready for this?”

Bianca nodded, looking anxious but excited at the same time. Charlie simply looked anxious.

He led them through the overly decorated front room past the towering twelve-foot tree, its branches weighed down with decades of ornaments, each with its own story. His mother didn’t understand the concept of restraint when it came to decorating for the holidays.

“Let’s do this, ladies.” Max held his breath as he entered the kitchen, quickly followed by Charlie and Bianca.

“Uncle Max!” Lily shrieked from a wooden stool near the granite counter, a cookie in each hand. Her ponytail was coming loose, honey-blond wisps framing her face.

“Hi, Lily.” Max planted a kiss on the top of her head. “Did you save any for us?”

She nodded proudly and held out a half-decorated snowman. “Do you want to eat him?” The cookie’s gumdrop buttons were slightly askew, giving it a drunken appearance.

Max laughed. “Maybe later.”

Bianca clung to his leg, her small fingers gripping the fabric of his jeans. He crouched beside her, bringing himself to her eye level. “It’s okay. I’m going to introduce you to your new cousins.”

Bianca nodded, her eyes big. “Okay.”

Max stood, taking Bianca’s hand. “Everyone, this is Bianca.”

Lily launched herself off her stool and ran toward them with open arms, wrapping herself around Bianca in a full-body hug.

Bianca froze for a second, searching Max’s face for answers. He nodded, which seemed to give her permission to hug Lily back.

Charlie jumped in to translate as the children introduced themselves.

“I’m Lily. I’m the baby. Until Aunt Laney has her baby, and then I’ll be a big girl.”

Jack followed right behind, his shirt and face carrying evidence of his overuse of frosting. “I’m Jack.” He held out a sugar cookie shaped like a star. “I made this for you. You can sit by me. I saved a spot. ”

Sophie stepped down last, brushing her hands on one of her grandmother’s aprons, and smoothed her ponytail with the authority of an eleven-year-old big sister. “Hi, Bianca. I’m Sophie. If you need help with the frosting bags, just ask. It’s not hard once you get the hang of it.”

Bianca nodded, clearly enamored with her older cousin already.

Max’s mother stepped toward them, wiping her hands on a red-and-white apron with “Head Elf” embroidered across the front.

“Hello, Bianca. I’m Gigi. Max is my son. We’re so glad you’re here.”

Bianca hesitated only a second before stepping forward into Grace’s hug, nearly disappearing in the folds of the flour-dusted apron. A lump formed in Max’s throat as his mother’s arms encircled the little girl. His little girl. He still couldn’t quite wrap his head around the idea.

His father was right behind her, kneeling as well to say hello to the newest member of the family.

“Hey there. I’m Pop.” He didn’t pull her into a hug, but he did place a hand on her shoulder for a second or two.

He gestured toward the counter behind him where dozens of cookies waited on cooling racks. “Do you want to try one?”

Bianca looked up at Max, uncertainty and eagerness battling in her expression. “Posso davvero aiutare?” Can I really help?

Max grinned. “Absolutely.”

Max realized he hadn’t introduced anyone to Charlie. “Also, this is Charlie.”

“We know Charlie. She’s the pizza lady,” Jack said. “The Maple Islander is my favorite.”

Charlie’s face lit up. “I’m so glad to hear that.”

“I like the barbecue chicken one,” Lily said. “But Sophie likes the Veggie Delight best. Because she’s a naturally healthy eater.”

Sophie rolled her eyes. “That’s what our mom says about me.”

“Where are your parents?” Max asked.

“They went on a date,” Jack said, making a face. “Probably to kiss and stuff.”

Lily made kissing noises, which caused Jack to giggle. Bianca giggled too, although Max doubted she understood much of what was being said. But apparently, kissing noises were funny in any language.

Max guided Bianca to the island where an assortment of sugar cookies, icing bags, and sprinkles covered nearly every inch of space. Sophie handed Bianca a frosting bag and a blank snowflake cookie, its edges perfectly golden.

Sophie took Bianca under her wing, showing her how to decorate with icing and sprinkles.

Max and Charlie migrated to the other end of the kitchen with his parents.

Mom was already asking Charlie questions about herself, drawing her out as only his mother could do.

How was she liking Sugarville Grove? Was business good this time of year?

Somehow, the discussion migrated to gardening, with his parents and Charlie sharing tips about how to grow the sweetest tomatoes.

Max only half listened, keeping a close watch on Bianca. But he shouldn’t have worried. His nieces and nephew treated Bianca like one of the crew. Sophie even had her learning the English words for whatever tool or shape of cookie they used.

She repeated after Sophie. “Star. Sled. Santa. Gingerbread boy. Bell.”

This kid would know English soon, especially once she went to school.

School. He hadn’t really thought about that.

But with holiday break, he wouldn’t have to get her enrolled until the first of the year.

How was he going to handle all of that? Lunches and bus times and science projects?

The thought of school made him feel anxious, but that was because of how hard it had been for him. She would do fine.

Sophie leaned over, her blonde head close to Bianca’s dark one, and whispered something that made Bianca laugh. Their shoulders touched as they bent over their creations, two little artists at work.

He always felt grateful for his family, but no more so than now.

Bianca giggled again, the sound mingling with Christmas music and the clatter of cookie sheets.

That was surely the best sound in the world.