Season's Greetings : Christmas Box Set

I press my forehead against her.

“I love you, James.”

“I love you, too, Faye. Ready to meet the British side of your family?”

Laughing, she nods. I wrap my hand around her waist and lead her into the airport. I used to doubt I’d ever have a family. Now I have a woman who owns my heart, a daughter I couldn’t love more if I tried, and plans to expand the Bailey family in the future. I’ve been dreaming about a Christmas baby. After all, when it comes to the holidays, ’tis the season for love when it comes to us.

The End

All I want for Christmas Is Yoon

Prologue

Hart

There are days engraved into everyone’s minds where life takes a turn you know you’ll never fully recover from. This is one of mine. They say it’s natural for a child to bury their parents because it’s the correct order of things. Maybe that’s true, but it doesn’t make things easier to handle. Seeing my mother deteriorate before my eyes was more than I could bear. So, I’d set off to make my mark on the world, returning often, but never for too long. It was cowardly. Cancer slowly stole away her energy and the one passion she lived for outside of her family—painting. When the chemo prevented her from making steady brush strokes, she withered. An artist, Mom made her living expressing herself through multiple types of media. Taking away that ability silenced her soul. Dad tried to be there for us as much as possible while working to combat the bills. But too often, it left Fiona, the youngest, fending for herself.

I skim my hands over the riot of dark curls spilling down Fiona’s back as I rest my head against her headboard. Today we laid our mother to rest. Yet, peace continues to elude us. My vivacious firecracker has been deadened. Her eyes are dull and sad, and she’d turned inward where no one could reach her.

I should’ve been around more for my baby sister. Mom insisted I chase my dreams. When I landed a position as a make-up artist for an up-and-coming singer, she forced me to take it and go on tour. Selfishly, I used her enthusiasm as justification for my absence. Guilt sits heavy in my stomach like an indigestible foreign matter. Movement in the doorway attracts my attention. My father stands there, dark eyes red-rimmed, and his tie undone, a living ghost still clad in the suit he wore to the graveyard. He looks rumpled and defeated. Seeing the man who’s always seemed larger than life laid so low cuts me at a soul-deep level.

“She finally asleep?” Dad whispers.

I nod. “Yeah. I think rest is the best thing for her.”

He rubs his face. “It’s probably what we all need.”

“You can go to sleep, Dad. I’ve got her.”

His shoulders shake, and I long to go to him and give him comfort. “I have something for you.” His voice breaks.

I frown, confused and wary. We’re reading the will with the lawyer tomorrow.

“Your mother wanted me to give it to you. After.” He reaches into the pocket of his suit and pulls out a white envelope. Walking into the room, he hands me the letter and backs out like a criminal afraid to set off an alarm. Hartley is scrawled across it in the fancy handwriting I’ve admired my entire life. “If you need anything, I’ll be in the study.” Turning, he gives me his back.

He’s aged before my eyes this last year. I hardly recognize the graying man lumbering down the hall and out of my line of vision. Careful not to wake the small being holding me hostage with her weight draped over my lap, I take a deep breath and carefully open the white rectangle in my hand. I can smell her floral fragrance. My hands shake as I hold my breath and open the letter. A purple geode broken up with gold in the corner greets me from her personalized stationery. The words blur as I begin to read.

My first-born little star,

You were the X chromosome that first made me a mother—one of my two most significant accomplishments. You’ve always marched to the beat of a different drummer. I see so much of myself in you. You’re passionate, giving, and vibrant. I admire how brightly you shine. Never let anyone dull that. It’s harder to get back than you can comprehend.

I know right now you’re second-guessing your decision to go on tour. Don’t. It was a privilege to see you living your dream. It’s all your father and I have ever really wanted. For you and Fiona to find your purpose and live to the fullest. I’ll miss that and so many other moments with Fiona. It breaks my heart. You always think you have time until you don’t.

Thank you for sharing your journey from the road. The pictures, emails, and gifts helped me through the tough days. I vowed to do everything I could to get as much time as possible with our family. I believe I did that to the best of my ability. There comes a time when one must not stop fighting but accept the inevitability of one’s situation.

Fiona is becoming a young woman who’ll need a female she can trust and look up to for guidance. I am asking you to be that person. I never wanted to clip your wings, but your father will be lost, and I cannot let Fiona get misplaced in the shuffle while he figures things out. They’ll both require your help no matter how much they protest or insist otherwise.

Be there for them since I can’t. See Fiona through her senior year. Make up for the ruin of her sixteenth birthday, do all the things you know I would’ve. Never forget how proud I am of the woman you’ve become. You were meant to bring the world beauty and compassion. Your heart is as big as the ocean. I’ll be watching over you, protecting, guiding, and loving.

Your Mother

Tears splatter onto the page as the dam holding back my volatile emotions breaks. Crying silently, I be

gin to make a mental checklist of the things I need to do to get back to town.

Chapter One

Hart