Christmas Wishes and Mistletoe Kisses(86)
Before she went outside, however, she put Max in the bath to play and sneaked into Nick’s office. She pulled his music folders from the shelf. They were old and worn on the edges. She thumbed through the music and pulled out a few titles she liked, making sure to find “Dreams.” She slid the folders back onto his shelf and carried the small pile of music she’d taken to the room with her things. She pulled the new book she’d bought for Nick from the front pocket of her suitcase and blew a tiny speck of dust off the engraving. Then she opened it and put the music inside it.
Once she had it all the way she wanted it, she pulled the tea-stained sheets of music from her bag. She’d been meticulous about getting the edges of each sheet perfectly lined up, creating a large, shiny piece of Christmas carol sheet music wrapping paper. She set the book in the center of it and cut the paper to size. Then, she folded it around the book, taping the edges closed, and secured it with a wide, wine-colored ribbon, tying an oversized bow on the front. Snipping an obscure piece of holly from one of the bedroom’s arrangements she’d made, she tucked it under the bow. When it was all finished, she hid the present in the closet.
After Nick’s gift was well hidden, and Max was out of the bath, Abbey stacked the rest of the exterior wreaths that had been delivered. She’d ordered more because, in a last-minute decision, she’d decided to put one on every single window on the house, all the way around. Why not? Nick needed a little Christmas cheer. The groundsmen were putting them up using ladders that were so large they looked like scaffolding. One of them had explained that it was the way they cleaned all the windows four times a year. Max had come outside and was digging in the snow with a plastic shovel he’d brought with the rest of his outside toys.
A wheelbarrow the size of a dump truck held boxes of exterior white lighting. She’d drawn a diagram of which trees to string with them and how closely to place the lights on the branches. One of the groundsmen was already setting up a ladder next to a small maple tree, its base sinking in the pile of snow underneath it. She had two of the boxes of lights in her hands. The spruce trees flanking the front door were in need of some sprucing up themselves. She started with those—shaking the snow off their branches—and then she’d move to the greenery along the railings leading to the front door.
The exterior and the living room were the only two large areas left to complete. After that, she had to put the finishing touches on the ballroom, and then add a few decorative items in the bathrooms and hallways. Then, the house would be finished.
She pulled her new scarf up around her mouth to keep her face from freezing as she got the greenery out and laid it straight along the steps to see its length before beginning on the large iron railings lining the steps. Her breath was puffing out in front of her and she could barely feel her nose, but when she saw that black Lincoln town car, she couldn’t deny the heat in her face. Abbey tried not to stare as it rolled along the snowy drive in front of her and came to a stop.
Richard got out and opened the back door. A thin arm reached out and dropped a designer bag onto the snow. Then, a pair of boots revealed themselves, their heels so tall that it was a wonder the person in the car could walk at all in these conditions. The woman wearing those boots was finally visible, her face a feminine version of Nick’s, her skin so milky and soft that it looked like the porcelain dolls Abbey had had as a child. The woman’s dark brown hair was silky and shiny despite the weather, falling in waves along the shoulders of her perfectly tailored black trench coat with a patterned buckle that cinched the belt at the waist. Richard picked up her bags and they started walking toward Abbey.
She watched the woman out of the corner of her eye as she wound the wire around the greenery to hold it on. The task was difficult with her mittens on but it was too frigid outside to take them off. The woman wobbled on her boots, her face neutral like Nick’s had been when he’d first met Abbey, but with every little slip, the woman pursed her lips in what seemed like concentration as she tried not to fall.
Abbey’s gaze moved past the woman, back to the car, as a little boy got out. He, too, was perfectly dressed—Max had never worn anything that nice, even on picture day. She looked over at him now, his jeans soaked at the knees from playing in the snow. Max stood up, eyeing the boy with anticipation on his face. The little boy’s coat and snow boots matched, both a deep hunter green. The collar of his coat and the rims around the tops of his boots were navy. The boy’s complexion was like his mother’s, the navy of his coat bringing out the blue of his eyes. He ran up beside her and Abbey heard her warn him gently not to run on the ice.