Chapter 27
Molly
“Liam! My favorite seven year old in the world,” Mr. Carmichael exclaimed, embracing Liam as soon as he stepped through the front door of the Carmichael home.
“What about me?” Molly asked, feigning hurt.
“And Molly! My favorite twenty-five year old in the world,” Molly’s dad exclaimed, using the same intonation. He pulled her into the shared hug with Liam.
“You don’t always have to announce our ages, Dad,” Molly said with a laugh as she shimmed her way out of her father’s bear hug.
“Yes, I do. It’s how I keep track of my favorite people. What? You think you’re the only Molly I know? I know thousands.”
She rolled her eyes at her father, but secretly enjoyed it just the same.
“So, no work today?” Mr. Carmichael asked.
“Christmas Wishes is closed for the day,” Molly replied. “As per tradition.”
“You do like your traditions,” her father agreed. “How was your new tradition of managing the store without the bosses around? Did you like being by yourself?”
“She wasn’t by herself! She had me!” Liam pointed out, looking hurt at being forgotten.
Mr. Carmichael gave him a grin. “That’s right! How could I forget the world’s best helper? You know what helpers get, don’t you?”
“Presents?” Liam suggested.
“Something better than pres
ents.” Mr. Carmichael kept his voice at a whisper while he guided Liam back towards the family’s kitchen. “Come with me, kid, but you have to stay quiet. Emma just finished making a fresh batch of gingerbread cookies, and no one’s supposed to have any until dinnertime, but you and I are going to have some for lunch.”
“Yes!” Liam shouted. He looked around and in a much quieter voice, said it again. “Yes!”
Molly chuckled at her father’s shenanigans. Her mother had never truly kept any baked goods off limits, but Mr. Carmichael made it seem like he and Liam were getting away with something. Molly recalled when he’d do the same with her on Christmas Eve. Her father would say that although Santa’s milk and cookies were only for Santa, he was “willing to get in trouble” for Molly’s sake and sneak her a few cookies in the middle of the night.
As her sweet childhood memories had finished replaying in her head, Molly took a few seconds to glance around her parents' home, noting the festive decorations. There were lights and a tree. Her mother had added some new poinsettias and greenery.
A bright smile came to Molly’s face when she saw her favorite Christmas fixture in the Carmichael household. It was a large plastic candy cane that reached from the floor all the way to the ceiling. This year, the Carmichaels chose to rest the candy cane against the living room wall right beside their glowing Christmas tree.
The candy cane had been in their family for as long as Molly could remember, even being displayed in their home in New York. Although, since their home there was much smaller, the candy cane was always laid on its side. Molly remembered being so happy the first time she got to see the candy cane in its proper upright position.
“Is your dad off with Liam?” Mrs. Carmichael asked, appearing beside Molly and resting a hand on her daughter’s shoulder. “They’re already eating my cookies, aren’t they?”
“You know it,” Molly replied with a smile for her mom. “Thanks for letting Liam have lunch with us.”
“Oh, please. Liam is never a problem for me. He’s the sweetest child I’ve ever known, and yes, that includes you too,” Mrs. Carmichael teased. “But I suppose it’s always a little harder to wrangle your own child.”
“That's what I'm told,” Molly replied. “Sorry for running out on dinner last night. I had to do something.”
“Something to do with Christmas Wishes? Or something to do with Nicholas Kerstman?” Mrs. Carmichael asked calmly. She looked over at her daughter and winked. “Or perhaps something to do with both?”
“Wait, what? How did you know?” Molly was taken aback by her mom’s insight. She didn't try to deny it, though.
“You’re my baby, Molly. I’ve always been able to read you like an open book,” Mrs. Carmichael told her. “And even though I didn’t have all the tiny details fleshed out, I knew that there was something different going on with you. Something different, but good. And when Nicholas ran out the door right after you left, well, I figured there was something going on between you two.”
“I'm not sure...” Molly mumbled, but her mother didn't seem to hear her.
“Although, I’d never imagined you with a man like Nicholas. He seems so serious about everything,” Mrs. Carmichael continued. “But maybe that isn’t such a bad thing. Your father hasn’t taken anything seriously since the day I met him.”