Page 63 of Christmas Treasures

They worked together, and soon the mood lifted. They began to chatter and laugh as they put the greenhouse back in order.

When they were finished, Bianca leaned heavily against Max’s side, looking suddenly very sleepy.

“Let’s go inside. There’s a little girl who has far surpassed her bedtime,” Charlie said.

Max knelt so Bianca could climb on his back. He took Charlie’s hand, and together they headed toward the house.

17

MAX

The evening of his annual Ugly Sweater Party arrived. Max and Bianca had transformed his modest apartment into a sanctuary of festive chaos. He’d always had fun putting together the food in the past, but this year was extra fun because Bianca was his little helper.

The food table was, if he did say so himself, a masterpiece of festive excess. Centered beneath a garland of twinkle lights, the spread looked as though a Vermont-themed holiday cookbook had exploded across the long table he’d brought up from storage.

A massive charcuterie board stretched nearly the entire length of the table, layered with sharp Cabot cheddar, smoky maple Gouda, creamy Brie topped with cranberry compote, and a soft wheel of herbed goat cheese. Sadly, he had no Bramblewood Ash, but there was nothing to be done. Charlie had it all. As it should be. However, he would never quit teasing her about how the missing cheese had brought them together. He fully planned to toast cheese-gate later that evening.

Piles of artisanal crackers—sprinkled with sea salt and cracked pepper—sat beside crusty slices of sourdough and maple-glazed walnuts. Folded prosciutto, salami rosettes, and tiny skewers of dill pickles and sharp cheese cubes added color and bite.

Near the window, a slow cooker of mulled cider bubbled warmly, cinnamon sticks and orange slices floating lazily beneath the steam. Max had stationed a mini chalkboard beside it reading, “Guaranteed to make your aunt spill family secrets.”

On the adjacent platter, Charlie’s balsamic-roasted root vegetables—carrots, parsnips, and sweet potatoes—gleamed beneath sprigs of rosemary. Nearby, meatballs in maple bourbon glaze sat in a warm dish. A separate side table was devoted to sweets, anchored by a towering cake stand of Santa hat cupcakes Bianca had helped frost. Powdered sugar-dusted maple fudge, peppermint bark with crushed candy canes, and a small dish of chocolate-dipped clementines. Best of all? A large pan of tiramisu, made by Max and Bianca, using Lucia’s recipe.

They’d shared a few tears as they’d put together layers of ladyfingers and mascarpone mixture, remembering Bianca’s mother and how much she’d enjoyed sharing dessert with those she loved.

His family had outdone themselves with their sweaters this year. He knew they all spent a lot of time and energy to find or make the perfect ones. He was feeling sentimental this year for obvious reasons, but each sweater touched his heart. They were symbols of the way his family went all in on whatever they did. In this case, he realized, maybe for the first time, that they did this for him. As a way to show him how much they loved his enthusiastic, over-the-top personality.

Bianca was delighted by all of the sweaters, going around the room to inspect each one carefully. Max had asked her to rate them all on a sheet of paper from one to ten, which she did with her usual earnest intent.

Charlie had helped Bianca with her sweater. Every time Max looked at the soft ivory sweater dusted with gold thread, he choked up. Across the front, two delicate embroidered angels held hands beneath a scattering of stitched stars. Above them, in elegant script, it read Always With Me. A tiny halo shimmered just above the smallest angel’s head, and a pair of golden wings were stitched gently onto the back of her shoulders. Not exactly ugly. But Max didn’t care. It gave him peace to know that she felt comfortable enough to share her past with her present. Although he and his family, and Charlie now too, were committed to fully embracing Bianca as one of the family, they also understood that she would remain Lucia’s daughter and Rosella’s granddaughter. Max would do whatever he could to make sure she could express her grief whenever and however she needed to.

Mom bustled through the crowded room delivering drinks in a bright green knit proudly displaying the words "Baking Spirits Bright" surrounded by smiling gingerbread cookies. Tiny battery-powered lights blinked cheerfully from the cookie buttons. “My ugliest yet,” she’d said when she’d arrived.

Dad, deep in conversation with Abby about dog training, wore a deep red sweater with an enormous grumpy elf scowling beneath the words "Son of a Nutcracker!" embroidered in festive script. Abby's bright red sweater featured an enormous cat hopelessly tangled in tinsel, a conversation piece that had already sparked three separate discussions.

Logan commanded attention in a stark black sweater emblazoned with Festive Enough For You? in bold lettering.Max had not known that a Christmas sweater could be sarcastic, but leave it to Logan to find one. Luke was clad in a forest-green sweater with a massive bottle of maple syrup front and center, embroidered with the words “Pour Some Syrup on Me” in sparkly gold thread. A tiny knit stack of pancakes peeked out of the kangaroo pocket like a secret snack.

Abby, embracing both her veterinary soul and the holiday spirit, wore a snow-white sweater with a chaotic Christmas scene stitched across the front: a line of cartoon animals in Santa hats causing total mayhem—a cat knocking over a tree, a dog tangled in lights, and a ferret stealing cookies. Above the chaos, in gold embroidery, it read Paws & Claus: I Work with Party Animals.

Nolan’s sweater was book-themed with a stitched open novel across the chest. The pages read Chapter One: Ugly. Chapter Two: Sweater.Laney wore a cream sweater stretched lovingly over her belly. Across the bump, bold red lettering announced The Best Plot Twist Arrives in March. A tiny felt bookmark poked out of the side seam, and the sleeves were cuffed with little printed book spines.

The kids dashed around the apartment in sweaters that perfectly matched their exuberant spirits. Sophie, taking her role as oldest cousin seriously, wore a deep teal sweater with a glittery clipboard across the front that read Official North Pole Elf Supervisor. It featured tiny knit pens in the pocket and a checklist titled “Cookies, Presents, Order!” The back read Santa Delegates. I Execute.

Lily, full of sugar and sparkle, bounced through the room in a bubblegum-pink sweater covered in dancing candy canes wearing sunglasses. Across the top it read Too Sweet to Be Naughty in bright red glitter. The sleeves had tiny jingle bells that chimed every time she spun. Which was often.

Jack had on a bright red sweater with a giant stitchedgingerbread man with a dramatic frown and a broken cookie leg. Above it, bold green letters screamed Oh Snap! He’d added his own touch with candy cane-striped suspenders clipped onto the hem.

And Max? He wore a three-dimensional reindeer monstrosity complete with protruding antlers and a blinking red nose powered by a battery pack.

Charlie was the only one who had her sweater hidden under a cashmere overcoat, saying she would reveal hers later. Max figured she had a fun surprise for them all.

The evening unfolded in moments of shared laughter over their funny sweaters, quiet exchanges of family stories, refilled glasses that never seemed to empty. Charlie's fingers remained interlaced with Max's for most of the evening. Other than the time when his mother and sisters-in-law had trapped her near the Christmas tree. Who knew what stories they were telling her?

The party was still in full swing when Charlie rang a bell to get everyone’s attention. “I’m sorry to interrupt the fun, but I have something to say. First, thank you for including me in so many of your family traditions. The holidays have been hard for me. So much so that I pretty much pretended they didn’t exist. Each person in this room, in one way or another, has helped to replace my sad memories with new, very happy ones.” She turned toward Max, who stood only feet from her, trying not to bawl like a baby. “And then there’s you, Max Hayes. Stealing my cheese and then giving it back without hesitation told me so much about you. You’ve brought incredible joy to my life by simply being yourself. Whatever imagined shortcomings you perceive in yourself, I see only a man who values family and community and loves so easily that it’s impossible not to do the same. You inspire me to be a better person. To spread love and light in everything I do, so that I can be worthy to be by your side.”

Max wiped tears from the corners of his eyes. “You inspire me too. And I love you. Very much.”

“Given that, I think it’s time I asked my question.” She shrugged off her top layer to reveal the sweater underneath.

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