Page 4 of Once Upon a Christmas Carol

“I meant I was sorry that your parents split up,” Victor clarified as they came into a small town.

Like everything else, the quiet-looking main street was covered in snow.

As she took in what little she could see, she wondered how much farther they had to go or how long this storm would last. But the flag flapping by the post office was fully extended and whipping so hard, she had no doubt it was still blowing out there.

Forcing herself to remember what their conversation was about, she thanked him for his empathy. “My parents were really better off after the divorce. Their fights were less toxic, although I still found myself in the middle a good bit.” She sighed.

“Kids usually pay the highest price. A lot of my college friends had divorced parents. Even as adults, it’s not easy. And yet about half of marriages fail.”

“I sometimes think that’s why so many people our age aren’t marrying. It’s too risky.”

“I suppose it is. For some folks, anyway.”

“I’m guessing your parents have been together a long time.”

“For sure. They’ll hit the big fifty next year.” He slowly shook his head “Well, if Dad makes it that long.”

“Oh, dear. Is he ill?”

“Alzheimer’s. He’s had it for a while, but the past year has been a little touch and go so you never know.” He explained a bit more about his dad’s medical issues.

“I’m sorry. Your poor mom. That must be hard on her.” Carol was having serious regrets visiting her aunt and uncle now. Maybe it really was bad timing.

“That’s why I moved home,” he said. “I’ve been back a few years now to help out. Our farm isn’t big, and we cut way back on livestock, but it still takes a fair amount of maintenance.”

“Maybe this was a bad time for me to pop in unexpected.” She suddenly imagined how overwhelmed her aunt could be feeling right now.

Ailing husband, blizzard blowing, farm responsibilities, holidays .

.. Why hadn’t Carol thought this through better?

She blamed it on a lack of sleep and cold feet.

“Maria assured me she has room, but it sounds like she might have enough on her plate right—”

“Don’t worry about Maria. She sounded excited to see you when she called.

” He frowned slightly. “Although she did mention bad timing. But I figured she meant with Christmas next week. Her decorations are always way over the top ... and she’s usually in charge of the town’s Christmas Cotillion.

It’s a fundraiser for Habitat for Humanity.

Anyway, the cotillion happens this weekend so maybe she’s feeling overwhelmed.

” He shook his head. “Plus, she’s been a little blue this Christmas, which is understandable. ”

“You mean because of your father’s condition?”

“Huh?” His brow creased. “Well, sure, we’ve always been close. We spend holidays together, along with a few other neighbors. That’s always a good time.”

Now Carol was confused. Why wouldn’t they spend holidays together as a family? Then she thought about her Christmas plans—wasn’t she running away from her family just now?

“And, man, the food we cook up for our Christmas Eve party,” Victor continued.

“We spend most of the day fixing an Italian feast at our house, then we take it all over to Maria’s in the late afternoon.

” He smacked his lips. “We eat and celebrate all night—and the next day too. And take it from me, it’s good eatin’ in the neighborhood.

” He chuckled. “I’m a serious foodie. Especially when it comes to Italian dishes.

And I’m a pretty decent chef too, if I do say so.

I used to own my own restaurant in the city.

I sold it to come home and help my parents, but I hope to open another someday .

.. when the time is right.” Now he began to list some of the Sicilian dishes he and his mom would be preparing for Christmas Eve.

Carol suddenly felt her stomach rumbling. “Wow, that all sounds delicious.”

“Well, trust me, if you’re still here at Christmastime, you won’t find better food in all of Michigan.” He grinned.

“Oh, I’ll be in the Bahamas by then.” She still felt a little confused about the way he was describing his family.

“You say you cook and then take the food over to Maria’s.

I thought you lived with your parents.” She didn’t want to sound too nosy.

“But maybe your parents don’t live in the same house?

Or is your dad in some kind of memory care place? ”

“No, Dad’s still at home. But my mom’s worried it might be his last year there. I’ll admit he’s a handful. Trying to help her with Dad, plus get all the farm chores done, keeps me running.”

“Maybe I can help you out while I’m here.”

His brows arched as if her offer was surprising. “Thanks, but your time’s limited. You should probably focus your attention on Maria.”

Wouldn’t that be helping him? She felt even more puzzled, but the more questions she asked, the foggier things got.

“So when was the last time you saw Maria?” he asked as he turned down another rural road.

This one hadn’t been plowed yet so it was extra slow going.

She wondered how much farther it would be.

She was starting to feel slightly dazed by all the swirling white, and lost, as if they were in the middle of nowhere.

“Never,” she replied.

“Really?” He paused at a stop sign and turned toward her. “But you stay in touch?”

“I’ve never spoken with her before today. Maria and my mother have been estranged since before I was born. I’m not really sure why. But then my mom baffles me in a lot of ways.” She shook her head. “She’s, uh, kind of a character.” That was an understatement!

“So you don’t know about Don then?”

“You mean about his Alzheimer’s?” she asked. Was he as zoned out as he sounded? Maybe the snow was making him dizzy too. “I know what you’ve told me just now.”

“Huh?” He waved at a pickup plowing a long driveway.

“About your dad?” she reminded him.

“Huh?” he said again. “What do you mean?”

“Didn’t you just tell me Uncle Don is sick?”

“I never said that.”

“You said your dad has Alzheimer’s.” She could hear the sharp edge in her voice. “I’ll admit I’m tired, but the way you describe your family is really confusing me.”

“My dad does have Alzheimer’s.” He sounded defensive. “But your uncle Don was never sick. He was perfectly healthy until the tractor rolled over while he was plowing the south hill last spring.”

“What?” She shook her head, trying to make sense of this. “Was that what started his Alzheimer’s?”

“No. That’s what killed him.” Victor actually laughed now. “I’m sorry. It’s not funny. It was actually quite tragic. I’m just laughing at how mixed-up this conversation has gotten. Did you think your uncle Don was my dad?”

“Well, isn’t Maria your mom?” Now Carol wasn’t just confused, she was irritated.

“Of course not. Sure, she’s been like a second mom to me, and she and my mom are as close as sisters.” He laughed even harder now. “So this whole time, you thought your aunt was my mom? That would make me your cousin!”

“Hey, give me a break. I haven’t slept in a couple days so I’m a space case. Please, forgive me my confusion.” She knew her tone was snarky but couldn’t help it.

“That’s okay. It’s probably my fault. Sorry.”

“Well, you gotta admit, it was pretty confusing.”

“For you maybe.” He grinned. “I’m actually relieved we’re not related.”

“I’m sure.” She rolled her eyes. “I wouldn’t want to be an embarrassment to your family.” She pointed at him. “And it was an honest mistake. I mean, we even look a little alike. Wavy hair, dark eyes ... must be our Italian roots.”

His expression softened. “Yeah, I noticed that too.” He paused to let another snowplow go by, then made a turn onto a road with deep snowdrifts.

He slowly plowed his way through. “This is O’Harneys’ property.

” After a bit of maneuvering, he pulled up to a structure hidden behind a thick curtain of blizzarding snow.

“I’ll get as close to the porch as I can to let you out. ”

“Thanks. And thanks for the ride too.” She reached for the door handle. “Sorry I was so mixed up about everything.”

“No problem. It was pretty entertaining.” He opened his door, then hurried to the rear of the truck to dig out her bag from the snow.

She trudged through the knee-deep snow and winced at the sharp cold on her bare skin.

By the time she got onto the covered porch, he was setting her bag by the front door and pointing to her now snow-covered sandals “I bet your feet are frozen. Anyway, if I don’t see you before you leave for the Bahamas, it was nice to meet ya.

” He tipped his hat and knocked on the door for her.

“Tell Maria I had to get moving if I’m going to clear her driveway and our other neighbors’ today. ”

She thanked him as he bounded back down the steps.

And suddenly the front door swung open to reveal a white-haired woman with a youthful face.

She was wearing faded jeans and a gray sweatshirt.

One of her arms was wrapped in a dish towel and was being supported by her other arm.

“Come in, come in,” she said loud enough to be heard above the howling wind.

“Close the door to keep the heat inside.”

Carol wheeled her bag in and closed the door. “Whew, that storm is wild.”

“I’ll say.” The woman smiled. “Welcome, Carol. As you probably guessed, I’m your aunt Maria.” She nodded toward her wrapped arm. “I’d help with your bag, but I fell early this morning—right before you called. It’s probably a sprain, so I’m icing it.”

“Oh, dear. I’m sorry.”

“It was my own dumb fault. I miscalculated a step on my ladder and took a tumble. Bad move on my part.”

“Sounds like my visit is bad timing on my part.” Carol grimaced. Hadn’t Victor mentioned something like that?