After they finished eating, they all piled into his SUV and headed out to the Christmas tree lot. This was going to be fun. Though, looking at Claire’s pale, expressionless face, one would think they were headed to a funeral.

  He wanted to reach over and grasp her hand, but the girls were in the back seat, so he didn’t. Hopefully her spirits would be lifted by the lights, the music, and the smell of pine.

  Once in the lot, they got out and the girls ran off to inspect the trees. Surprisingly, there were still quite a few trees to choose from. While he had a minute, he took her hand.

  “Are you okay?”

  She lifted her gaze to his and managed a half smile. “I’m fine. Let’s do this.”

  He wanted her to have fun, to enjoy this, so he was going to make sure she did.

  * * *

  Claire did not want to do this, but for Brooke, she’d suck it up. After all, it was just a stupid Christmas tree. And why should Brooke have to suffer just because Claire was grumbly about Christmas? They’d pick one out, drag it back to the house, and that would be it. They’d be done, and in a few days, Christmas would be over and she wouldn’t have to think about it again for another year.

  They caught up with the girls and she vaguely listened as Sullivan talked with them about needles and freshness and whatnot. When she came upon a tall Douglas fir, she was reminded of one night in the distant past when she stood in a similar lot with her ex-husband Ed.

  She’d been so excited about the upcoming holidays and couldn’t wait to pick out their tree. Things had been rough between them lately, but it was Christmas, and she knew it was going to bring them closer again.

  Until Ed stood in the middle of the lot and told her Jennifer was pregnant and he was going to need a divorce. At first she’d thought she’d misheard him, but the look of utter shame on his face told her otherwise.

  He’d shattered her world that night, and all those bitter, unhappy memories came rushing back, squeezing her chest. She turned and walked swiftly from the lot, fighting for breath. She laid her hand against the door of Sullivan’s car, tears filling her eyes, desperately fighting for air and wishing she could be anywhere but here right now. She wanted to crawl in a hole and forget that Christmas existed, because the holiday hurt her heart.

  Arms came up around her and she was drawn against a warm chest.

  “Okay, try to breathe normally. You’re going to be all right.”

  Sullivan was there, and he talked her through the worst of the panic attack until she could breathe normally again. She laid her head against his chest, feeling ashamed and embarrassed.

  She turned to face him. “I’m sorry.”

  “You have nothing to feel sorry for. Now tell me what upset you.”

  She closed her eyes for a few seconds then said, “My ex asked me for a divorce at the Christmas tree lot, told me about his girlfriend being pregnant that night.”

  “He…he did what?”

  She nodded.

  “That had to have hurt you so much. I’m so sorry, Claire.” He pulled her into his arms and held her, ran his hands over her back, and gave her the comfort she so desperately needed. That tightness around her chest abated.

  “Where are the girls?” she asked.

  “They’re having hot chocolate.”

  “Okay, good.” She would have been mortified if Brooke had seen her fall apart like this. She should be past this by now. Why wasn’t she past this?

  He pulled her back. “So this is why you hate Christmas.”

  She nodded. “Pretty much, yeah.”

  “Okay. Tell me your favorite Christmas memory.”

  She tilted her head to the side. “What?”

  “Tell me something you loved about Christmas.”

  She leaned against the car. “I don’t know.”

  “Think. There has to be something. How about when Brooke was little?”

  Every good memory she associated with Christmas had evaporated the night that Ed told her he’d cheated, that he’d gotten his office manager pregnant, and that he wanted a divorce. It was as if no other Christmas other than that one existed in her mind. But there had been others—many others. She just had to recall them.

  “Brooke’s third Christmas. She was finally old enough to know what was going on. She was so excited about Santa, the lights, the music—everything. And her eyes got so wide when she saw all the gifts under the tree on Christmas morning. She just ripped through them and squealed every time she opened a present. I just laughed and laughed that day. I took so many pictures, it was ridiculous.”

  “So it was a good Christmas memory,” he said.

  “Yes, it was.”

  “I’ll bet you’ve had so many others besides that one.”

  “Yes, of course I have.” She’d just forgotten all of them, buried them all deep because that one devastating night was the only Christmas memory that had remained stuck in her head.

  “Maybe you can push aside that one bad memory and fill it with all the good ones. Because the good ones far outweigh the bad, don’t they?”

  She realized he was right. She had so much to be grateful for and so many good memories she’d shoved away because she’d been holding on tight to this one awful memory of Christmas.

  She stepped toward him and rose to press a kiss to his lips. “Thank you. Really, thank you. I desperately needed to be reminded of that.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “I think I’ve stayed in my head about the divorce and my anger about it for so long that it was hard to let it go.”

  “Understandable. He did you wrong in the worst way.”

  “Yes, he did.” But that one moment shouldn’t define her forever. Or define this holiday. “Anyway, let’s go find the girls and pick out a tree.”

  “Let’s do that.”

  By the time they got back to the lot, they found Brooke and Maddy standing by a tree that they proclaimed was “the one.” It looked in good shape and was a decent size for the living room without being hideously large, so Claire bought that one and they took it home. She even managed to dig out the box of ornaments she’d hidden away after the divorce. Brooke seemed so happy to see them again that Claire felt guilty about not doing this sooner.

  She felt guilty about a lot of things.

  They made hot chocolate and decorated the tree, and when Brooke asked if they could play Christmas music, she said yes. It was time to put the pain and bitterness to rest and focus on good memories.

  She looked over at Sullivan, who gave her a smile as he hung an ornament on the tree.

  Rather than being upset, she realized she had a lot to be thankful for, including this gorgeous man in her living room. Rather than freaking out over her meltdown, he calmly listened to her and understood. Even sympathized.

  She felt the pang in her heart and knew right then she was falling in love with Sullivan.

  But she was such a mess. He didn’t deserve that.

  They hung out for a while, then Sullivan and Maddy left. She saw his wistful smile as he closed the door behind him and wished she could have hugged him, kissed him goodnight.

  Instead, she gave him a smile and a wave.

  “Mom.”

  She turned to Brooke. “Yes?”

  “We need to talk.”

  Uh-oh. That was never a good place to start. “Okay.”

  Brooke had curled up on the sofa, so Claire sat next to her. “What’s up?”

  “I saw how upset you were at the Christmas tree lot tonight.”

  She was hoping Brooke had missed that. “I’m sorry. It was just…a momentary thing.”

  “Look, I know what happened at Christmas. Dad told me.”

  Her eyes widened. “He did?”

  “Yeah. He messed up. He knows he did. But he’s changed, Mom. He’s trying really hard to be a good husband now, and he’s a great dad to me and to George.”

  “I’m glad to hear that.”

  “Also, everything terrible doesn’t happen at Christmas. And I know what Dad did was awful. I told him what he did was shitty—”

  “Brooke…”

  She shrugged. “Well, it was. I told him I didn’t respect him for the choices he made. And he acknowledged it and apologized. He said he told you over and over again how sorry he was.”

  “He did.” Which at the time meant nothing to her since he’d obliterated their lives. But now, after her meltdown at the tree lot and talking it out with Sullivan, she realized that one Christmas was frozen in time, the only thing she’d allowed herself to think about.

  She’d been so unfair to Brooke, making her pay for her father’s sins.

  “But you’re still living in that past, making yourself unhappy. Don’t you think it’s time you let it go?”

  Apparently this was the year for people to shed light on the way she’d been living her life. First, Sullivan, now her own daughter. And they were both right.

  “Yes, it is time to let it go. And I’m sorry if I’ve been dragging you down with me, ruining your Christmases ever since. That’s on me and I’m so very sorry for doing that to you.” She reached out and cupped her daughter’s cheek.

  Brooke’s lips lifted. “You haven’t ruined anything. You’re my mom. I love you. All I want for Christmas is for my parents to get along. You don’t have to be besties or anything, but to not feel as if I’m in the middle of some great war between the two of you would be awesome.”

  Ouch. That one stung hard. “I didn’t realize that you felt this way.”

  “When was the last time you actually spoke to Dad?”

  “I—” She realized they communicated via text message for matters related to Brooke. “I don’t know.”

  “He’s not the enemy. He’s my dad. And I get why you don’t like him anymore. But the thing is, I love him. And I love Jennifer, too. She’s a great stepmom. She loves me, she loves George, and she loves Dad. They’re not evil people, you know? They’re just two people who love each other. And yeah, they screwed up how they got there, but they’re trying to be the best people they can be together. And if we can’t forgive people who make mistakes, who does that make us?”

  Her heart ached for her daughter. She hadn’t realized all the mistakes she’d made, thinking only of herself, punishing Ed over and over again for hurting her. And in doing that, she was punishing Brooke.

  “I’m sorry.” She pulled Brooke into her arms for a hug. “I’ll fix this.”

  Brooke pulled back. “I don’t need you to fix everything, Mom. Just…get along peacefully with Dad.”

  “I will.” She pushed a strand of Brooke’s hair behind her ear. Her daughter had grown up so much in the past year. Before long, she’d be an adult and off to college. The years had gone by so fast. It was time to embrace every second. “How did I get so lucky to get a daughter like you?”

  “I don’t know. Genetics?”

  Claire laughed and felt like this year might be the best Christmas she’d had in a very long time.

  But before that could happen, she had to take a very important step.

  Chapter Eleven

  Claire felt as if a giant boulder had taken up permanent residence on her shoulders as she stood on the front porch of her ex-husband’s house.

  She’d been here before but only in the driveway to drop off and pick up Brooke. Typically, Ed’s wife, Jennifer, stood at the door and waved. Claire never waved back.

  She’d texted Ed yesterday and asked if she could come by for a chat. It had taken an hour for him to answer, which didn’t surprise her. But he’d said yes. So here she stood, trying to tamp down the rising panic. She hadn’t stood face-to-face with her ex since their divorce. Oh, sure, they’d both show up for Brooke’s sporting and school events, but never in close proximity.

  But this was for Brooke, and she damn well was going to suck it up and do it.

  The door opened, with Jennifer on the other side. She was beautiful, about ten years younger than Claire, with long, brown, shoulder-length hair and striking blue eyes.

  “Claire,” she said. “I’m so glad to see you. Come on in.”

  “Thanks.”

  The house was lovely. Huge, modern, with a lot of open space—nothing like her old house. Then again, Ed had always hated that house and they’d often argued about it. He’d wanted to move to a new place and she loved the old Craftsman. So after they separated, he’d moved out and she got to keep the house.

  Head in the present, not in the past, Claire, she reminded herself.

  “Ed’s on his way home right now and he apologizes for not being here,” she said as she led Claire into the living room. “He should be home any minute.”

  “It’s not a problem.”

  “Let me take your coat.”

  “Thanks.” She shrugged off her coat and handed it to Jennifer.

  “Would you like some coffee?”

  “I’d love some, thanks. With cream.”

  “Coming right up.”

  “Can I help?”

  Jennifer shook her head. “Oh, it’s no problem. I’ll be right back. Make yourself comfortable.”

  Claire took a seat on the sofa and looked around. Big tree, lots of lights, and tons of decorations. There were four stockings hung above the fireplace. Ed, Jennifer, Brooke, and George. She smiled at that.

  “Who are you?”

  She snapped her head around to see a brown-haired toddler staring at her. He had blue eyes like Jennifer and otherwise looked a lot like Ed.

  “Hi. I’m Claire. Who are you?”

  “George. I’m three. You like trucks?” He held out a small, blue plastic truck with yellow wheels.

  “I love trucks. That’s a nice-looking one, George.”

  “I have lots of trucks. And cars. Wanna see some?”

  “I’d love to see them.”

  “Be right back. Don’t go.”

  “I’m not going anywhere.”

  George dashed up the stairs.

  “I see you met George.”

  “I have. He’s adorable, Jennifer.”

  She smiled, that kind of warm, loving smile that only a mother could give. “Thank you. We love him very much.”

  She handed Claire a cup and saucer.

  “Thanks.”

  Jennifer sat next to her, holding her own cup. “I know this is awkward and I appreciate you coming here. Before Ed gets here, I’d like to say I’m so sorry for how it all happened. I didn’t…we didn’t plan for it to…” She paused and blew out a breath. “There aren’t good excuses, or any excuses, really. I’m just so sorry, Claire.”

  She appreciated Jennifer’s attempt at an apology, and she was right, there just wasn’t much to say on the matter. “It’s in the past and what’s done is done. Don’t beat yourself up over it. You’re happy?”

  She exhaled. “Very much so.”

  “Then let’s not look back. We’ll all move forward and keep it that way.”

  “Thanks. Your daughter—she’s very special. We love her a lot and I feel lucky to have her as a part of our family.”

  Now Claire smiled. “Yeah, she’s a great kid.”

  “And she’s so smart and so talented. I played on the volleyball team in high school, too. And was in the drama club. I’ve been encouraging her to try out for the lead in the spring play.”

  Claire had no idea that Brooke was even considering it. “Really. What did she say?”

  “She’s nervous, of course. She doesn’t think she has a shot at it because she’s just a sophomore. But she’s so good, Claire. She has that natural ability to morph herself into any character. I’m in awe of her.”

  Listening to Jennifer sing the praises of her daughter dissolved any animosity she might have felt about the woman. “Thank you. She thinks very highly of you as well.”

  “Really? That means a lot. Thank you.”

  The door opened and Ed walked in, and once again that boulder settled itself on her shoulders. Jennifer stood and so did Claire, while a lightning flash came tumbling down the stairs.

  “Daddy!”

  “Hey, buddy.” The way Ed wrapped his arms around George, tucking his nose in his son’s neck to breathe him in then giving him kisses, reminded Claire that despite his faults as a husband, Ed had always been an exceptionally good father to Brooke. And, obviously, to George as well.

  George took Ed’s hand. “Daddy, this is Claire. She likes trucks, too.”

  “She does, huh? Hey, Claire.”

  “Hi, Ed.”

  “George, did you know that Claire is Brooke’s mommy?” Jennifer asked.

  George’s eyes widened. “You’re Brookie’s mommy?”

  “I am.”

  “I love Brookie.”

  Claire bent down to look at George. “And she loves you, too.”

  “Is she coming over today? I miss her.”

  Her heart squeezed. “I think she’s coming over tomorrow. But I’ll tell her to call you, okay?”

  “Okay!”

  Jennifer held out her hand. “Come on, George. Let’s go play in your room. Daddy and Claire have things to talk about.”

  “Okay.” George waved. “Bye, Claire.”

  “Bye, George.”

  And now they were alone. Claire took her spot on the sofa and Ed pulled up a seat in the nearby chair.

  “I’m glad you came over,” Ed said. “I should have reached out a long time ago.”

  “It’s okay. I think maybe we both needed some space and time.”

  “You’re probably right.”

  “Your son is adorable. He looks just like you.”

  “Thanks. He’s a handful, for sure.”

  “But fun, I’ll bet.”

  He smiled. “Like you wouldn’t believe.”

  “And probably a lot harder now that you’re older.”

  He laughed. “Also like you wouldn’t believe.”

  “Brooke had a Christmas wish,” she said.

  “Yeah? What’s that?”

  “That you and I have a better relationship. I think that starts with me.”

  He sighed. “No, that should start with me. God, I’m so sorry, Claire. If I could, I’d do everything different. Not Jennifer, of course. I’m sorry, but I can’t take that back.”