Page 36 of Christmas Treasures

“It’s my honor to be here,” Charlie said. “Max is a special man. He’ll take good care of her.”

“Yes, I am sure of it too,” Camilla said.

As they stepped outside into the pale winter light, Charlie felt an unexpected rush of emotion. How had so much happened to change her life in such a small amount of time? For once, however, she didn’t overthink it. She just enjoyed being part of something important.

Bianca’s nosewas practically pressed against the cold glass of the window as they pulled around the bend toward Max’s store.

Charlie followed her gaze, trying to imagine seeing it all for the first time. Sugarville Grove’s familiar Christmas village, set up beside Max’s store, sparkled in the fading daylight. The place had been overtaken by families waiting to see Santa. A jolly Santa sat greeting bundled-up children. High school students dressed as elves helped with crowd control.

Bianca’s small hand touched the window gently, as ifreaching out to confirm it was real. She turned toward Charlie, eyes wide and curious.

“Cos’è questo posto?”What is this place?

Charlie leaned toward her, answering in Italian. “Questo è il negozio di Max. Vende cibo buono, dolci e tante cose speciali per Natale.”This is Max’s store. He sells good food, sweets, and many special things for Christmas.

Bianca’s eyes drifted toward the cheerful crowd around Santa. She looked confused, fascinated, and a bit overwhelmed. “E lui? Babbo Natale? Vive qui?”And him? Santa Claus? Does he live here?

Charlie smiled gently, explaining, “No, lui visita ogni giorno per salutare i bambini. E ascolta quello che vorrebbero ricevere per Natale.”No, he visits every day to greet children and hear what they’d like for Christmas.

Bianca’s lips parted in awe. Then she pointed toward the large greenhouse at the back of the property. “E quello? Cos’è quella casetta di vetro?”And that? What’s that little glass house?

“È una serra,” Charlie explained. “Lì crescono piante, verdure ed erbe che Max vende nel negozio.” It’s a greenhouse. Plants, vegetables, and herbs grow there, and Max sells them in his store.

“Posso vederla da vicino?”Can I see it up close?

Charlie squeezed her hand reassuringly. “Certo. Domani te la facciamo vedere.”Of course. Tomorrow we’ll show it to you.

"La mia nonna faceva crescere le verdure nella terra e poi le mangiavamo."My grandma grew vegetables in the ground and then we ate them.

"Le verdure fanno bene. Ti faranno crescere forte e sana."Vegetables are good for you. They will make you grow strong and healthy.

Max parked behind the store, shutting off the engine. For a moment, no one moved, as if everyone needed to catch their breath. Charlie glanced at Max, saw the hope andanxiety tangled in his eyes, and gave him a nod of encouragement.

He exhaled quietly and opened the door. “Bianca, we are home.”

Bianca hesitated only a second before climbing out, clutching the stuffed tuxedo cat tightly to her chest, her little backpack over her shoulders. She tilted her head back, taking in the tall, rustic building with its warmly lit windows. She turned back to Charlie, clearly uncertain.

“Ma dove dormiamo?”But where do we sleep?Bianca asked, her voice barely audible above the festive hum drifting from the Christmas village nearby.

Charlie smiled softly and pointed upward. “C’è un appartamento sopra il negozio. È lì che abiterai tu, con Max.”There’s an apartment above the store. That’s where you’ll live, with Max.

Bianca studied the building carefully, her expression thoughtful. Then she reached for Max’s hand. Max’s face softened instantly, visibly moved by her quiet gesture of trust.

A painful lump developed in the back of her throat as she watched the two of them take their first steps toward home together. Max held the door open, stepping aside to let Bianca and Camilla go first. The little girl hesitated on the threshold. Charlie could almost hear the questions in her mind, the whirlwind of fear and displacement.Where am I? Who are these people? What happens now?

Inside, the apartment was warm and softly lit. Again, she wondered what it would look like to Bianca. Above the mantel hung a large photograph of snow-capped mountains, the sky behind them a brilliant blue. Built-in wooden shelves lined one wall, filled with artifacts she guessed Max had picked up during his travels. Although small, it held an essence of Max—reassuring yet interesting.

Bianca stood quietly, her gaze traveling around the living room, her expression unreadable, reserved, taking in the unfamiliar space.

“Benvenute a casa,” Max said.

Camilla gave him a reassuring nod, slipping her coat off and setting their bags aside. “It’s lovely, Max. Inviting.”

Bianca moved toward the fireplace, studying the photos arranged on the mantel, carefully touching a wooden bird figurine, curiosity softening her anxious expression. Then she wandered to the couch, her hand running over the arm, trailing along the nubby fabric as though she was memorizing its feel. Her attention drifted to Max, questioning.

Max stepped forward, kneeling beside her. “Vuoi vedere la tua stanza, Bianca?”Do you want to see your room, Bianca?

She nodded, biting her bottom lip.

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