“Aren’t you going to open your present, Brayden?” Whitney asked as the boy put his large box on his lap without tearing the wrapping.
“I thought we had to wait till morning,” he said, as if he were afraid of what might be in the box.
“I think that since Santa brought these, it’s okay to open them,” she told him. “We’ll save the rest until morning.”
Her nephew finally began taking off the wrapping. When he pulled out the quilt inside, Whitney’s eyes overflowed with tears. And for once Brayden didn’t hold back his own tears. Whitney had no idea how this gift had been pulled off.
Last year her sister had been trying desperately to get a quilt finished for each of the children before Christmas. She’d finished Ally’s, but she’d only gotten halfway through with Brayden’s. Whitney didn’t know how to sew, and when she’d found the project Brayden had been with her. She’d offered to take it to a seamstress to have it finished, but he’d grown angry and insisted that he didn’t need it — didn’t want it.
So the unfinished project had been tucked away. Who had found it? Who had completed it? Did they really have a Christmas angel? The quilt was sewn with pieces from his first baby blanket and his first outfits. And there were pictures of Brayden and his parents on some of the squares, and quotes from his mother. This truly was a piece of his mom that would comfort him for the rest of his life.
But who had found it? Who had completed it?
Whitney again looked at Frederick, but there was nothing in his expression that showed he was behind it. And Liam looked as in awe of the quilt as she was.
“It’s wonderful, Brayden,” Whitney finally said, moving over to her nephew and pulling him to her side. The lovely quilt fell over them both now.
“It is,” he choked out. “I miss her so much.”
“So do I, darling,” Whitney told him.
“But I don’t want to be sad anymore. I don’t want to be angry. I just want to remember the good, like in this picture — last baseball season when we won the championships. Mom and Dad rushed out on the field and you took the picture.” It was a photo with Vincent holding Brayden high in the air, and Maxine hugging them both. All of them were wreathed in smiles.
“I think nothing would make them happier than that,” his aunt said to the boy.
There was a moment of silence as the entire family came to terms with their loss, and then Frederick stood up and moved toward the piano.
“How about some Christmas songs before we turn in for the night?”
Liam stood up and joined his father. He sat down at the piano and started playing, and everyone joined in on a mesmerizing version of “Silent Night.” Frederick moved back over to the couch to sit between Ally and Brayden when Whitney walked over to sit on the piano bench beside her lover.
After a few rounds of Christmas carols, though, she noticed that her niece was nodding off. It was time for bed. The early morning light was starting to slip through the curtains, and they’d all be lucky to get a few hours of sleep before excitement got them out of bed again for a holiday breakfast and, yes, more gifts.
“I think we’ll get you tucked in now,” she told Ally. “When you wake up, it will officially be Christmas morning and we’ll have a lot more to do.”
“But I’m not tired, Auntie,” Ally said. A loud yawn belied those brave words.
“I know you’re not, but we’ll try to get some sleep anyway. I’ll read you another bedtime story.”
Ally rubbed her eyes and reluctantly agreed. Liam walked with them to Ally’s room. Before the story was even halfway finished, the little girl was sound asleep.
“You’ve done an amazing job with these children,” Liam told her as they paused together at her bedroom door.
“I love them more than anything. I wish my sister and Vincent could be around to watch them through the years, but I’m so grateful that at least I can help them grow since their parents can’t.”
“Don’t you see that their parents are here?” Liam told her. “They’re here each time the children laugh, each time something good happens, and even each time a tear falls. I know my brother would want no one to raise them but you. You’re incredible.”
“Thank you for giving us this healing Christmas,” Whitney said.
Liam reached down to brush his lips against hers.
“Thank you for showing me that there’s more to life than just work. And for helping me to heal the anger that’s been eating away at me for so long. That’s all because of you.”
“Do you really mean that, Liam, or did you just say it because you think it’s what I want or need to hear?” She’d never felt more vulnerable than she did now.