Page 6 of Christmas Treasures (Sugarville Grove #6)

MAX

M ax had been up since before dawn. The kind of night where sleep was more of a theory than a reality—just a cycle of tossing, turning, and staring at the ceiling until the pale glow of morning finally bled through the window.

He’d gotten up and dressed for a cold morning run, then lifted weights in his space behind the store.

With Logan’s help, he’d transformed the old shed into a workout area, with weights and even a few benches he’d found at a yard sale.

Logan worked out with him on weekday mornings, but this was Saturday, and his brother slept late on the weekends.

After a shower and a cup of yogurt and granola, he called his mother and father.

Mom answered on the second ring, already knowing something was wrong just by how he said, “Hey, Mom.”

He didn’t go into it all over the phone, but asked if he could come out after he dropped the supplies at Laney’s. “I need to talk to you and Dad.”

“Of course, honey. I’ll make that Cobb salad you like. ”

Grace Hayes held a deep-seated belief that there wasn’t much a good meal couldn’t cure.

A few minutes later, he stood behind the coffee counter at the store, blissfully busy with the morning coffee crowd.

He’d made six cappuccinos in the last thirty minutes, four drip coffees, and one café au lait for a tourist who insisted it be made “the European way.” Max wasn’t sure what that meant, but he added a flourish with the foam and hoped for the best. The woman had seemed pleased, so Max considered that a win.

The bell over the front door jingled. He looked up—and stilled.

Charlie Keene. Looking as gorgeous as ever in a pair of jeans tucked into tall boots and a puffy jacket. In her hands, she held a small glass jar with a handwritten label on the lid.

Max’s first instinct was to smile. His second was to brace himself.

“Morning. If you’re here for another round of cheese negotiations, I’m out of wheels.”

Charlie let out an awkward, embarrassed-sounding chuckle. “I’m here to say sorry about yesterday. I don’t know why I came in so hot like that. It’s only cheese.”

“Ah, but it’s not only cheese. It’s a cheese you created a pizza to showcase all month. Cheese tends to bring out the fiery side of people. I totally get it.”

“That’s gracious of you, but I felt bad about how I acted.” She set the jar on the counter. “I brought these as a peace offering.”

He glanced at the label. Pickled golden beets. “I love beets. How did you know?” Total lie. He hated them with a passion.

Her face lit up. “Really? I grew these myself. In my greenhouse. And I learned how to pickle and can them from watching this YouTuber who teaches all these old-timey things like canning. It’s the best.” She abruptly stopped talking, perhaps embarrassed that she’d shown such enthusiasm.

He’d never seen her that animated. She was more beautiful than ever.

Normally, he might have tried to keep her talking, but today he was too worried and distracted.

He had to come up with a plan in three days’ time to prepare for a huge life change.

A child was coming to him, and he had no idea what to do with her.

“My family’s been canning vegetables for generations. ”

Her expression shifted. Not angry. Not quite. Just wounded. “Right. Once again, I’m a city person with no idea how you Vermont folks do things. Forgive me for acting otherwise.”

“What are you talking about?” He stared at her, baffled.

“You and the rest of this town never cease to remind me that I don’t belong here. I’m an outsider, and I’m not really fully welcomed here.”

“No, that’s not at all what I mean.” He sighed. “I was only trying to say that—it’s great you’re embracing gardening and canning.”

“How gracious of you,” Charlie said. “If not patronizing.”

He drew in a deep breath, hoping to keep his temper in check. This woman had a way of pushing his buttons. All the wrong buttons. “I didn’t mean it that way. I have a lot on my mind, so I might not be expressing myself properly.”

She seemed to soften a little. “Sorry. Again.”

This one could really change from one extreme to the other in a split second. Now she was being compassionate? Or was he misreading her again?

“It’s okay. Really.”

Charlie nodded and started backing away. “Okay, well, I should go. I hope you enjoy my beets.”

He simply didn’t have the energy to try to smooth things out between them.

She was impossible to be with friends with, even for someone like him who could win most people over.

“Thanks again for bringing these.” Could it be more awkward between them?

To think he contemplated asking her out. How misguided was that idea?

She nodded curtly, then stomped away without a backward glance.

Just as well. He had enough to deal with besides figuring out what the heck was up with her.

The Hayes family farmhouse sat at the top of a slow, rolling hill, its wraparound porch draped in twinkle lights. Max parked his SUV and sat for a minute, gripping the steering wheel.

He hadn’t told anyone in his family about the time he’d spent in Florence with Lucia and Bianca. If someone were to ask him why—which he suspected his parents would be doing in a short time— he had no idea how to answer. It had been a time in his life that almost felt like a dream now.

He’d arrived in Florence in October and had immediately known he would like to stay for an extended period.

He applied for a job at a trattoria where he’d enjoyed a ragù and glass of Chianti on his first night in the city.

Lucia had hired him to help the cook and to do whatever needed doing, whether it was serving customers or assisting in the kitchen.

The trattoria was a neighborhood favorite, with rustic decor and pasta that melted in one’s mouth.

He’d loved every minute of his time there, including a whirlwind romance in one of the most romantic cities in the world.

He’d fallen fast and hard for the brown-eyed beauty and her little daughter.

Rosella was Bianca’s paternal grandmother.

Her son had died when Bianca was only eight months old.

Rosella had come to help Lucia after the funeral and had decided to stay.

She’d taken care of Bianca while Lucia worked.

By the time Max met them, they’d been a well-oiled family unit. One they’d welcomed him into.

He and Rosella had become great friends, even though his Italian was not the best. Then, six months in, Lucia started feeling off—as she put it, tired and lethargic.

Max had convinced her to see a doctor. Two weeks later, they had a cancer diagnosis.

A rare type of blood cancer that had spread throughout her body. Three months later, she was gone.

During her illness, he and Nonna Rosella had taken turns caring for Lucia and Bianca while trying to keep the restaurant afloat.

But after Lucia passed, Rosella decided to take Bianca back to the village where she’d lived most of her life.

Max had promised to send money when he could.

He’d also promised Lucia that should anything happen to Rosella, he would take Bianca.

It had seemed like the right thing to do at the time.

But now, faced with the actual reality of a little girl he didn’t know coming to live with him, the agreement seemed foolish on all their parts.

That said, he knew how rough Rosella had had it.

At age seventy-five, raising a child had not been easy, especially given their financial difficulties.

That it hadn’t occurred to him that she might pass away before Bianca was grown seemed definitely foolish.

In hindsight, he should have helped them come up with a different solution.

Surely yanking a child out of their home and village and sending them to a strange place in America was unwise?

But it was too late now. He’d promised. And he was legally bound to keep that promise.

Now he had to tell his parents the truth and beg them for help.

His father met him on the porch with a mug of coffee in one hand, a faded baseball cap shading his silver hair .

“What brings you by?” His dad peered at him closely. “You okay?”

Max offered a tired grin. “I’m all right. But I need to talk to you and Mom about something important.”

Mom appeared behind them in the doorway, a dish towel in her hands. “Come inside where it’s warm. I’ve been worried. You didn’t sound like yourself when we talked earlier.”

Max followed them into the kitchen, the scent of bacon and fresh coffee reminding him of what home smelled like.

His mother asked if he was hungry, but he said he’d stick with coffee for now. His stomach felt like a mass of nerves, and he wasn’t sure he could keep anything down.

They sat at the kitchen table. Max didn’t bother with small talk.

“I have something to tell you—it’s going to shock you to the core, and I’m sorry for not telling you earlier.”

Grace gripped her coffee mug that said World’s Best Gigi on the side. “You’re scaring me.”

Walter leaned back in his chair. “Is this about a woman?”

Max let out a breath. “Yeah. When I was in Florence for that year before I came home, I fell in love with the woman who owned the restaurant where I worked. Her name was Lucia, and she was an angel. She had a little girl named Bianca who was five at the time. Lucia had been widowed when Bianca was a baby, but her mother-in-law, Rosella, came to live with them after he passed. They quickly became my whole world.”

He told them everything. About how Lucia got sick.

About the promises he made before she died.

“Lucia was worried about sending Bianca home with Rosella because she was seventy-two at that point. She asked me to take Bianca should anything happen to Rosella. We had the papers drawn up. But somehow, I didn’t think it would come to be.

I’ve sent money every month to make sure they had enough for rent and food.

I did it gladly, knowing how Lucia had worried about both of them.

The long and the short of it—I was wrong.

Rosella died a few days ago. Her best friend, Camilla, called to tell me and to ask if she could bring Bianca here to stay. ”

“Max, how is this possible?” His mother shook her head, clearly having trouble comprehending such a sordid tale. “How come you never told us?”

“I’ve been wondering that. I don’t know.” Max looked down at the mug of coffee, the way the cream rose to the top in the shape of a cowboy hat. “It seemed like a different lifetime. Like it happened to another me. Not the one who came back to Vermont and pretended like my heart was not broken.”

“When do they get here?” Dad asked.

Max dropped his chin, scratching the back of his neck. “They’re arriving in three days. Camilla suggested she stay for a week or so to get Bianca acclimated, but she has to get back to her own family in time for Christmas.”

His mother pressed a hand to her heart. “Oh, Max. This is such a big commitment. Your whole life’s about to change. And you don’t even know the child.”

“I did, Mom. But yeah, it’s been three years. Bianca’s eight now. Regardless, I have no idea what to do with a child, whether I know them or not. It’s one thing to be goofy Uncle Max to nieces and nephews. This is something entirely different. I’m going to be solely responsible for her.”

“Yes, all true,” Dad said. “But you’ll rise to the challenge. Most men do when faced with fatherhood, no matter how terrified we are to begin with.”

“You were terrified?” Max asked. He couldn’t imagine his strong, funny, smart father ever being scared of anything.

“Heck yes. I couldn’t believe they actually let me take your mother and Luke home, as if I could be trusted. They just handed them off to me, and I can remember praying to God to guide me. I’ve never been more afraid in my life.”

“I was too, for that matter,” Mom said. “I had similar thoughts.”

Mom reached across the table and took his hand. “This poor child. Losing her mother and now her grandmother. She will be fragile and scared. But we can help. All of us. Like we did with Lily after her mother left.”

Max’s throat tightened. “My place is so small. It’s not exactly made for a family. But there’s the extra bedroom I use as an office. I can get it cleaned out and put a bed in there. They’re used to small spaces, so hopefully it will be adequate. ”

Dad let out a slow breath. “You’re going to need a house. We can help you. But for now, we’ll make it as cozy as possible for Bianca.”

Mom blinked, tears filling her eyes. “That little girl is going to need so much love. Can you imagine?”

“I can’t,” Max said. “I was lucky to have grown up here, with both my parents and brothers—on a farm and in a town I’d always known. She doesn’t speak much English. And everything’s different here than what she’s used to. I mean, she’s going to have to go to school. How’s that going to work?”

“You don’t have to have it all figured out right away,” Mom said. “You’ll just do your best, and everything will fall into place.”

Max swallowed hard. “I just don’t want to mess her up. Lucia was the most wonderful mother. Rosella too. I won’t know at all what I’m doing.”

“That’s what Abby thought when she found out she was responsible for her cousin’s children,” Mom said. “Not so very long ago. And look at how well they’re all doing. ”

“But Abby’s exceptional,” Max said. “I’m not.”

“Untrue.” Dad placed both of his hands on the table. “You have the biggest heart of any of my kids. You take after your mother.”

“And you’re not alone,” Mom said. “We will all be here for you, just like we were when Lily was an infant and Luke was faced with life as a single father.”

“Abby and Laney will help too,” Dad said. “As will the kids. Somehow, we’ll make her feel at home.”

“That’s our superpower as a family,” Mom said. “We’ll do whatever we have to for Bianca.”

He fought tears. His parents were always so supportive and willing to deal with whatever their boys brought into their lives. “ Thank you seems inadequate. But thank you.”

“That’s what we’re here for.” Dad reached over to squeeze Max’s shoulder. “Come on. Let’s get started on making that office of yours into a bedroom. We’ll get it cleaned out today and then get a bed and whatever other furniture we need.”

“You’re going to be fine,” Mom said. “You will be a great father.”

Max really hoped she was right about his ability to take a little girl into his life. Time would tell.