Page 28 of I’ll Be Home for Christmas

Everyone brought snacks, and Liam and Bella had whipped up a few batches of mince pies, three trays of which now cooled on racks on the kitchen table.

Aunt Cam stirred a warming Christmas punch in a cauldron on the stove, which Aunt Aggie tested frequently, suggesting additional ingredients—most of them alcoholic.

Children raced around the house, trailing tinsel and depositing festive ornaments wherever they saw fit, while Rab and Ryan strung fairy lights over, around and between the trees in the front garden.

This kind of impromptu party was not a rare occurrence at Hallow House—the snack and punch recipes were easily adapted to suit the season.

Fred had been reminded of them often when attending the contrived-but-made-to-look-effortless parties she used to attend with Tim.

They were one of many aspects of life at home that she had missed desperately and tried with all her might not to, pushing them to the far corners of her mind or viewing them through a lens of forced derision; it had been exhausting.

Now, as she plated up wonky mince pies, she allowed herself to sink into and soak up this simple coming together of friends without airs or egos.

She had taken these kinds of easy gatherings for granted when she was a kid; now, with her new sagacity, she could appreciate the value in them.

Not everybody had this—she hadn’t had this, for the longest time—and she was only now beginning to realize how much she’d needed it.

“I’ve pushed out the dents in Father Christmas’s face as best I can,” said Diggory, coming into the kitchen with the metal namesake tucked under his arm. “But he’ll never fully recover from that kind of abuse.”

“You call it abuse; I call it showing the old man a good time,” Aunt Aggie retorted.

“How’s the grotto going?” asked Fred.

“Good,” Diggory replied. “We’ll just do weekends and evenings until the kiddies break up from school, and then we’ll do a final push. I’ll be roping in helpers by then. I reckon I’ve got an elf costume with your name on it.”

“Aha, I think my elf days are over.”

“You’re never too old to get involved—and it’s all for a good cause, you know.”

People donated presents for the grotto all through the year, although Fred knew for a fact that Martha and Diggory made up any shortfall out of their own pockets. Proceeds from the grotto were split between children’s charities and shelters for rough sleepers.

“You used to love being an elf,” said Aunt Cam.

“When I was sixteen and I could make being an elf look cute and sexy. Now I’d be an old, sad elf lady; my delicate ego can’t take that kind of humiliation.”

“ Pftt , old indeed!” said Aggie. “I’ve got knickers older than you!”

“I did not need to know that, Aggie,” said Diggory, before turning back to Fred. “Sure I can’t tempt you?” he asked. “Ryan would love the company; it would be like old times.”

“Wild reindeer couldn’t get me into an elf costume,” Fred assured him.

“Fair enough,” he said, tipping an invisible cap in her direction.

Martha came in, bouncing one of her granddaughters on her hip. “Any news on the punch? The lads have got the lights up out the front, so the lawn scene is ready to set when you are.” Martha addressed the last bit to Aunt Aggie.

The Christmas decorations on the front lawn had always been a point of pride for Aunt Aggie.

Apparently, Fred’s maternal grandfather—on one of his infrequent visits to his wife’s family home—had deemed it a “repugnant display of moral wickedness,” which had caused her aunts to make the display even bigger the following year.

She couldn’t imagine a spirited personality like her mother growing up with a man like her grandfather; it probably explained a lot.

The party—wrapped up in hats and coats—moved outside.

Ryan and Benj carried the cauldron of punch through and set it down on a picnic table.

Aunt Cam followed them with a box of mugs and, behind her, Fred carried a tray full of hot chocolates for the children.

With whistles whetted, they set to work under the supervision of Aunt Aggie, who, unable to point without wincing, had taken to shouting her instructions for where she’d like things to be placed.

“I’ll have the reindeers on the right side of the path but space them naturally as though they’re grazing. Put Father Christmas next to the sleigh, that’s it, yes, on the other side in front of the biggest snowman…”

“Fred! Your expert eye is required,” Ryan called.

She turned from where she and Martha were finishing attaching a bauble garland over the front door.

The eight-foot Christmas wood spirit that Liam had carved for them with a chain saw out of a single oak trunk, a few years back, was being carried out through the back gate by Bella, Rab, Benj and Ryan. “Where do you want it?” Ryan shouted.

Fred took herself down the drive a little way, past the rows of large candy canes and candle-shaped lights pressed into the grass on either side, and faced the house, which was so abundantly strewn with fairy lights that she wondered if they’d get complaints about light pollution.

“I think on the left-hand side,” she called.

“In front of the seven fiberglass swans a-swimming and the partridge in the pear tree, there’s a space before the mistletoe arbor. ”

“You don’t think it’ll be too much, with the Nutcrackers on the opposite side?” Bella called back. “Too much wood, I mean?”

“Is too much of anything a serious consideration with this display?” Fred asked.

“Because if it is, I’d say we went way past ‘too much’ after the gingerbread house.

” Two of Rab’s children were sitting on deck chairs inside said gingerbread house, scooping gloopy marshmallows off their hot chocolate mugs with candy cane spoons.

“And the motion-activated singing Christmas tree doesn’t scream subtle either. ”

“She has a point,” said Ryan, and everyone else agreed.

As the heavy sculpture was stood up straight and secured with guy ropes and tent pegs, with Aunt Aggie barking out orders all the while, Fred took a moment to soak it all in.

It was without doubt the gaudiest, most wonderful garden display she had ever seen; it was an overcrowded mishmash of elegance and vulgarity.

Tim would have hated it, and the thought of it made her smile broader.

“What do you think?” asked her mum, brushing the dirt off her hands as she came to stand beside her. “It seems to get bigger every year.”

“It’s perfect,” said Fred, meaning it. “I love it.” There was a time when her family Christmas display used to cause her embarrassment, mostly during her teens.

But all she saw now was a whole lot of happy.

The glittery garden ornaments twinkled like rainbow jewels in the fairy lights.

And if that wasn’t enough, silver snowflakes were being projected against the house, and every tree in the garden was lit from below with a color-changing spotlight.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come home, these last few years… ”

“You have nothing to apologize for. You’re here now, and that’s all that matters,” her mum said, with her signature understanding, which Fred was learning to appreciate after so many years of it driving her nuts.

“This makes me feel like a kid again.” Fred opened her arms out toward the garden. “Tim’s house was very tastefully decorated at Christmas.”

“I remember. I recall Aunt Cam used the word ‘minimalist,’ and I don’t think it was a compliment.”

Fred laughed.

“We weren’t allowed to celebrate Christmas in my house when I was a kid,” said Bella, “not like most people celebrate it at least. It was a serious time for prayer and reflection. I may have gone a bit overboard since I moved in with the aunts.” She pressed a finger to her lips, as if thoughtful.

“Ya think?”

Bella laughed and wrapped her arms around her daughter. “It’s so good to have you home. Even if it’s only for a little while.”

“About that”—Fred rested her head on Bella’s shoulder—“I think I’d like to join the business, properly; on the books, as it were.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

She felt her mum suppress a hiccup of emotion before she said, “Fred, that’s wonderful! I’m so happy. What made you decide?”

“A few things. Realizing that the aunts are getting older was one of them. And it turns out that the grown-up version of Ryan gives good advice—”

“I always liked that boy,” Bella cut in.

“And I just thought, why am I worrying about finding another job in advertising when I could be using my skills at Hallow-Hart?”

“Exactly. We want all your skills for ourselves, don’t share them with the rest of the world.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m going to live at Hallow House forever.”

“Of course not. You can move into the cottage with the aunts. Or we’ll build you your own cabin down by the woods…”

“Mu-um!”

“I’m kidding!” Bella laughed. “I don’t care where you live, so long as you’re happy and you don’t cut yourself off again.”

“Never again. I promise.” Her phone beeped with a message. She opened it. “It’s from Warren. He’s booked us in for lunch at Smoke and Soul on Tuesday.”

“Lovely. Is this fun, or fodder for his restaurant piece?”

“The latter, but there’s no reason it can’t be fun too.” She winked at her mum.

They were quiet for a moment as they watched the hubbub playing out before them on the lawn.

“Ryan will be pleased that you’ve decided to stick around for a while,” Bella said as the man in question hoisted one of his nephews onto his shoulders so the boy could reach to hang an ornament on a rowan tree.

“Do you think?” She tried to squash the zip of pleasure it gave her.

“Don’t you?”

“I guess. It’s kind of weird how, after all these years, he still feels like my Ryan, you know? Like we just picked up where we left off. Well, not exactly where we left off—things had been strained between us for a while before I left for uni—but how we were before that.”

Bella shrugged. “True friendships are like that. If the bones are good, they can weather the storms.”

“Is that how you feel about Liam?”

Something flitted across her mum’s expression like a fast-scudding cloud passing in front of the moon, but then it was gone.

“I suppose it is,” Bella replied. “I’m proud of you, you know.”

“Why?” Fred barked out a sarcastic laugh. “Because I scuttled back home when my life turned to shit?”

“Because you didn’t let the bastards grind you down.”

Across the lawn Liam called her mum over.

Bella kissed Fred’s cheek and made her way back up the path to where he stood, holding out a mug of punch for her.

He said something to her that made her laugh, and Fred was struck anew by how beautiful her mum was.

She seemed happy. She was always happy when Liam arrived back in Pine Bluff.

He and Martha were her best friends; it must be nice for her to have them both together.

Kids ran in and out of the oversized garden ornaments, screeching with delight.

Ryan and his brothers shared a joke by one of the three wise snowmen, while Diggory settled the aunts into the sleigh and Martha covered them with blankets.

Hallow House and gardens looked like a slice of fried Vegas, and Fred couldn’t remember when she had last felt this content.