The Christmas Wish (3 page)

“The movie Daddy, where the angel gets his wings.”

“Oh right.” Tyler pulled her hair into a ponytail and put a pink band around it. “
It’s a Wonderful Life
.”

“Miss Bartoli knew I was giving out angel wings.”

Tyler smiled. His fingers slid through Charlotte’s hair and he took the three sections and braided them. When would he have ever thought he’d be braiding a five-year-old girl’s hair? Never. Not even two years ago would he have believed it.

He’d failed Charlotte.

All he’d wanted was to give her the security and the type of family that he’d been lucky to grow up surrounded by, but he’d failed. He’d failed in an all-out battle with Charlotte’s mother. He’d not realized the war that was being waged in Charlize’s heart until the battle was lost, won by another man. Charlize had retreated to New York, and Tyler had nothing left to do but surrender, heal his wounded heart, and tend to his daughter.

“Daddy, look at my princess!” Charlotte picked up the doll her grandmother had given her the day she and Tyler arrived from Denver. The doll wore a pink dress with gold threads and had long blond hair that waved as Charlotte turned the doll forward and back. “I’m going to take her to see the castle tomorrow. The one that the pretty lady, Miss Bartoli, is making.”

Brinn Bartoli
was
a pretty lady. Not in the conventional sense like Charlotte’s mother. No, Brinn was pretty because of the warmth that emanated from her. The sense of sincerity and integrity that even as a kid Tyler hadn’t understood but had known existed.

He’d been in awe of Brinn with her self-contained behavior so constantly pleasant and willing to always be the support behind every event. He’d never considered dating her when they both lived in Powder Springs. Not because he didn’t notice her, but because he knew, even then, that to be with a woman like Brinn would require him to delve into parts of himself he didn’t want to see or find. Brinn deserved someone deeper than him. A guy with more soul. Now after a failed marriage, she deserved someone less damaged. A guy who wasn’t cynical or jaded about love. A man who would actually consider marriage again. Tyler would never be that man. He put a hair band at the bottom of Charlotte’s braid.

“Come on, bean, time for bed.” Tyler lifted his daughter. Her tiny hands clasped around his neck and she tucked her head under his chin. Warmth surged through him. Did he deserve her precious love? He was certainly doing everything he could to try to deserve this beautiful gift of a daughter God had given him.

He walked down the long hallway of the old Victorian to the bedroom his parents had turned into a special spot for all their granddaughters when they came to visit. In this bedroom were two sets of white bunk beds with pink floral duvets and lace trim and giant plumped pillows. Enough beds for all three granddaughters and room to grow.

Giant pictures of flowers and fairies decorated the walls as well as photos of each Emerson granddaughter. The three girls’ names were painted in white script on the pink walls in the order that they’d arrived: Ashley, Grace, and Charlotte. There were more Emerson grandchildren to come. Tyler had heard from his older brother Chuck that he and his wife were expecting their third child in the summer. There was much to celebrate in the Emerson clan, and yet Tyler felt alone and a failure for letting his marriage die.

He pulled back the fluffy duvet on the bottom bunk, knelt down, and Charlotte climbed into bed. Tyler tucked the blankets around his daughter.

“I love you, Daddy.” Charlotte leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“And I love you too, bug.” A lump grew in his throat and a heat built behind his eyes. What he wouldn’t give for Charlotte to have a complete family with two parents tucking her into bed. What he wouldn’t give to have his own news to share at Christmas dinner that Charlotte would soon have a little brother or sister.

Charlize hadn’t wanted to be a mother or to grow their family. She wanted New York. She wanted the man she’d fallen in love with and left Tyler and Charlotte for. She wanted an existence that didn’t include Denver or Powder Springs or Tyler or Charlotte.

“I miss Mommy.” Charlotte’s big round blue eyes held bits of pain. Tyler clenched his jaw. He wouldn’t cry in front of Charlotte. He wouldn’t ever tell Charlotte all the nasty things Charlize had said about being a mother in her final parting shots aimed at Tyler.

“And I’m sure Mommy misses you too.” His words, he felt certain, were a lie. In the year and a half that Charlize had been gone and rebuilt her life in New York, she’d seen Charlotte twice. Right after she moved to New York, Charlize had called nearly every night, but that had faded to once a week, and now, eighteen months later, Charlotte was lucky to hear from her mother twice a month.

“I’m going to ask Santa to bring Mommy to us for Christmas.”

Tyler’s throat tightened. He held fast to the expression on his face. What to say? He no longer loved his ex-wife. She wasn’t the woman he’d thought she was, but his heart ached for his daughter. She wanted her mama, and though Tyler was content to be without Charlize, Charlotte was not. If only his ex-wife could be a better mother to their daughter. This would be the first Christmas that Charlotte was without her mother. The first Christmas, Charlize had flown to Denver for twenty-four hours, but this year spending Christmas with Charlotte conflicted with Charlize’s already-scheduled trip to Tahiti.

“Bug, I don’t know if Santa can fit Mommy on his sleigh. We’ll see her after Christmas, when we go to New York for a couple of days.”

Charlotte’s little eyebrows creased and her eyes peered at her father with a great seriousness. “Daddy, I think you forgot that Santa is magic. He can shrink Mommy, put her in his bag, and bring her down the chimney.”

There were no words to respond to his daughter’s Christmas wish. A longing claimed his heart for what his and Charlize’s union should have been; stability, security, and family. After Charlize’s departure, the realization had sunk in that his ex-wife would never be his true love again and perhaps never was.

“Get some sleep, bug. Big day tomorrow with Grandma. You’re going to the Grande to see the castle.”

Charlotte’s wide smile lit her face even as her eyelids started to droop with the heaviness of sleep. “And I’ll take my princess,” she whispered, her eyelids slipping down over her beautiful blue eyes.

“Yes, bug. A princess with a princess.” He stayed in that spot, sitting on the floor beside Charlotte’s bunk bed until her eyes were closed and her breathing grew long and slow. Her angel’s face relaxed into the softness of sleep. When he knew she was safely in dreamland for the night, he stood, walked out of the bedroom, and quietly pulled the door shut behind him. His mother waited in the hallway. She looked up at him. She knew of Charlotte’s Christmas wish.

“I’m sorry.” Mom put her arm around his waist.

“She wanted a different life.”

“I just…” His mother shook her head. “I just can’t understand it.”

“I’ve moved on. Charlotte is the center of my life.”

They walked down the hallway toward the stairs. His mother stopped. “
Have
you moved on?”

A fair question. One that his mom asked out of concern and not judgment. In the eighteen months since Charlize’s departure, he’d tried to move on from the ruins of his marriage. He’d laid the groundwork for a life with just him and Charlotte. He’d cut back his hours at the firm. He’d hired a great nanny to be with Charlotte when he had to be at the office. He’d filled Charlotte’s life with playdates and preschool and vacations and fun events for the two of them to share. But as for him and his own life as a single man?

“What about that woman you took to dinner a couple of weeks ago?”

“Not a match.” He shoved his hands deep into his back pockets. The woman was nice, good-looking, and successful in her business as a public relations executive, but there had been no spark. Now he had another woman-friend that he had no interest in dating.

“We’re okay, Mom. We’re doing the best we can.”

“You’re doing a great job.” Mom squeezed his arm, but her smile didn’t reach her eyes. Sadness was reflected in her gaze. “I’m so proud of the man you are, the father you are. I just want…” She looked away, then her gaze met his again. “I just want what I know you want for yourself. A family, like your father and I have.”

“I have a family. I have as much family as I’m ever going to need. I have you and Dad and Charlotte, plus Chuck and Katherine and Breck and Kent. The girls. I have more family than a lot of people.”

“I want you to find someone special to be with, to share holidays and birthdays and vacations.”

Tyler shook his head. “I don’t think marriage”—he looked into his mom’s hopeful eyes—“I don’t think marriage is in my future.”

Mom’s eyes clouded. “You can’t let Charlize’s mistake prevent you from finding love.”

“It wasn’t just her mistake, Mom—”

“Tyler.” His mother’s tone hardened. “She had an affair—”

Every muscle in his body tightened with the word. “Mom.” He pulled air deep into his lungs. “Our marriage”—he shook his head—“it wasn’t right. We weren’t right for a long time before she was with someone else. I just… Mom, I didn’t see it and I don’t ever want to fail like that again.”

Mom was right. He’d wanted the same type of relationship he’d witnessed between his parents. How lucky he’d been to have that kind of security as a child. How lucky his parents had been to find each other. You didn’t get everything in life, and he had surrendered to the idea that a marriage like his parents’ marriage wasn’t going to be part of his life. But he did have a great family and an amazing daughter. He had more than most people.

“Coffee?” his mom asked.

Tyler shook his head. “I’ve got the meeting at the Grande tomorrow morning. I want to go through my notes and the ideas I have for their new addition. Then get some sleep.”

“I’ll bring Charlotte around eleven. Want to join us for lunch?”

“Sounds like a plan. She’s super excited.” He walked toward his bedroom door. “Don’t forget the princess doll tomorrow. Charlotte wants to show the Christmas castle to her doll.”

“I’m pretty certain Charlotte wouldn’t let me forget.”

“Night, Mom.” Tyler opened the door to his room.

“Good night.” There was a tiny tremble in her voice.

Tyler pretended the emotion wasn’t there, that his mother wasn’t worried about him, and closed his bedroom door.

Five a.m. was early and cold. The plows had cleared the roads, but big ever-growing drifts lined the streets of Powder Springs. Brinn curved along the two-lane highway toward the outskirts of town and the base of Thunder Ridge Mountain where the Grande Hotel had sat for closing in on one hundred and twenty-five years. A favorite of tourists, the giant white building with a wraparound porch sat high on a plateau. The back patios opened out onto the ski slopes, and guests of the Grande could walk out the back doors, gear up, and slip down the smooth hill to the quad lift at the foot of Thunder Ridge.

The hotel was decked out in its holiday finery. White lights lined every edge of the hotel and glittered in the early-morning darkness. Wreaths hung from the front doors and a giant Christmas tree decorated the outside of the hotel. Brinn pulled around to the side of the hotel to the parking lot beside the service entrance that led to the kitchen.

She opened the back door to the Grande Hotel’s kitchen. Bright light shot out of the back door and warm air blasted her nearly frozen cheeks. Knives thumped on cutting boards. The earthy scent of fresh chopped vegetables and the rich smells of cooking meat wafted around her. A kitchen felt like home, whether a small apartment kitchen with a hot plate or giant industrial kitchen with speed racks and stainless steel. She was always in the right place when she entered a kitchen.

Food was life. Food was family and friends and celebration. To be a part of those events gave her life meaning and pleasure. In this kitchen, great cooks mixed, chopped, sautéed, baked, stirred, whipped, and created brilliant concoctions that caused people to smile. Food warmed not only a person’s belly but also their soul. Memories were created around a table. From the moment of birth until the day of your death, every celebration had food. Food, bread, the kitchen, the table, they were the heartbeat of life.

The Grande’s kitchen bustled with activity. Prep cooks chopped, washed, and set up for the hundreds of meals they would serve over the next twenty-four hours. Brinn wore her black-and-white checkered pants and kitchen whites with Bea & Barbara’s Bakery logo embroidered over her heart. She passed the prep area and said hello to all the line cooks she knew.

“Hey, Brinn!” Chef Edgar called from behind the line. He ducked his head so she could see him between the stainless steel shelves where the cooks placed the dishes once they were ready for the expeditor to send them out of the kitchen.

“Hi, Edgar.”

“Try this.” He plated a piece of meat. Brinn’s stomach growled at the aroma. He pushed the plate toward her through the open space, and she grabbed a fork from the tray of utensils on the counter. Edgar walked from behind the line, wiping his hands on his apron.

Brinn sniffed. The
jus
lined the plate around the edges of the meat. “Smells amazing.” She cut into the piece of beef with her fork, the meat so tender she didn’t even need a knife. She put a bite in her mouth and closed her eyes. What spices had he placed on the meat? What flavors grabbed her interest?

“Riley’s rub. Garlic. A touch of… is that chili pepper and… cinnamon?”

“Nice palate you got there. You like?”

“Like?” Brinn took another bite of the meat, this time keeping her eyes open. “More like love. This is phenomenal.”

“Limited beef from right here in Powder Springs. Grass fed. We’ve got about two hundred pounds.”

“That’s not much.”

“Thinking a Christmas Eve special. You and your family still coming this year?”

“Of course.”

Christmas Eve dinner at the Grande was a Bartoli family tradition. Once the bakery closed on Christmas Eve, the Bartolis went home, cleaned up, had dinner at the Grande, and then made their way to Midnight Mass. As a little girl, Brinn held fast every day between Thanksgiving and Christmas Eve to the knowledge that she would not only get gifts from Santa on Christmas Eve, but she would also get her parents back from the holiday rush at the bakery. During the Christmas season, she and her sister went days without seeing Ma and Pop because they were so busy filling orders at the bakery. During the month of December, Nonna had always made the parental absence bearable for both the Bartoli girls.