Holiday Wishes Read Online Free PDF

himself grinning like a ten-year-old.
    â€œIt’s about time,” she said as she let him in. “Wipe your feet.”
    â€œYes, ma’am.” Jason scrubbed his boots against the rough mat before he set down the poinsettia on her kitchen table.
    No more than five feet tall, the widow stood with her hands on her hips. She was bent a bit with age, and her face was a melody of lines and wrinkles. The bib apron she wore was covered with flour. Jason smelled cookies in the oven and heard the majestic sound of classical music from the living room speakers. The widow nodded at the flowers.
    â€œYou always went for the big statement.” When she turned to look him up and down, Jason found himself automatically standing tall. “Put on a few pounds, I see, but more wouldn’t hurt. Come, give me a kiss.”
    He bent to peck her cheek dutifully, then found himself gathering her close. She felt frail; he hadn’t realized it by looking at her, but she still smelled of all the good things he remembered—soap and powder and warm sugar.
    â€œYou don’t seem surprised to see me,” he murmured as he straightened up.
    â€œI knew you were here.” She turned to fuss at the oven because her eyes had filled. “I knew before the ink dried where you signed the registration at the inn. Sit down and take off your coat. I have to get these cookies out.”
    He sat quietly while she worked and absorbed the feeling of home. It was here he’d always been able to come as a child and feel safe. While he watched, she began to heat chocolate in a dented little pan on the stove.
    â€œHow long are you staying?”
    â€œI don’t know. I’m supposed to be in Hong Kong in a couple of weeks.”
    â€œHong Kong.” The widow pursed her lips as she arranged cookies on a plate. “You’ve been to all your places, Jason. Were they as exciting as you thought?”
    â€œSome were.” He stretched out his legs. He’d forgotten what it was to relax, body, soul and mind. “Some weren’t.”
    â€œNow you’ve come home.” She walked over to put the cookies on the table. “Why?”
    He could be evasive with anyone else. He could even lie to himself. But with her there could only be the truth. “Faith.”
    â€œIt always was.” Back at the stove, she stirred the chocolate. He’d been a troubled boy, now he was a troubled man. “You heard she married Tom.”
    And with her, he didn’t have to hide the bitterness. “Six months after I left, I called. I’d landed a job with
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. They were sending me to a hole-in-the-wall in Chicago, but it was something. I called Faith, but I got her mother. She was very kind, even sympathetic when she told me that Faith was married, had been married for three months and was going to have a baby. I hung up, I got drunk. In the morning I went to Chicago.” He plucked a cookie from the plate and shrugged. “Life goes on, right?”
    â€œIt does, whether it tows us along with it or rolls right over us. And now that you know she’s divorced?”
    â€œWe promised each other something. She married someone else.”
    She made a sound like steam escaping from a kettle. “You’re a man now, from the looks of you, not a bull-headed boy. Faith Kirkpatrick—”
    â€œFaith Monroe,” he reminded her.
    â€œAll right then.” Patiently, she poured heated chocolate into mugs. After she set them on the table, she seated herself with a quiet wheeze. “Faith is a strong, beautiful woman inside and out. She’s raising that little girl all alone and doing a good job of it. She’s started a business and she’s making it work. Alone. I know something about being alone.”
    â€œIf she’d waited—”
    â€œWell, she didn’t. Whatever thoughts I have about her reasons, I’m keeping to myself.”
    â€œWhy did